Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Gio

He moved so quietly, I almost missed him. If I hadn't seen the very slight change in light at one of the exterior doors, I would have missed him. Jack hadn't visited tonight, so Tomas and I were more focused since he wasn't much of a talker. I nudged him in the side, but when I glanced at him, he was already looking at the same place.

When Tomas turned his attention to me, I tilted my head, indicating which direction he should go in. We weren't sure which door the thief would come in through. That he'd gotten in at all was due to the lax security outside. Martin and Jerry had been warned to let him through.

Our thief would be easier to trap deeper in the warehouse, away from the exit, where it was harder to run.

Moving as quickly and quietly as I could, though warehouses were often creaky, I tried not to flinch when the metal stair made a groaning noise under my weight. I flitted through the warehouse, following the thief's path. He seemed like he was looking for something—he was also smaller than I'd thought. Perhaps a boy rather than a man?

He was very good at what he did. If he was a boy, maybe I could talk my uncle into recruiting him… after he received a bit of justice for his thievery from us. Skills like this used for us… but I'd have to see how my uncle felt first.

The thief paused, looking at a crate that was on top of a short stack. A crate he could easily reach. I was only now realizing how many things had been taken from storage that was lower to the ground, though I had a feeling the thief would be an adept climber if he needed to. He was very light on his feet.

I was proven right almost a moment later when I moved and accidentally stepped on something that cracked. The sound wasn't that loud, but the thief reacted as if I'd shot at him.

He didn't run—he jumped up, climbing up on the crate, vaulting to the taller one beside it, then dropping down on the other side—putting the crates between me and him. I cursed under my breath and started running in the same direction I heard his footsteps going on the other side. My long legs put on a burst of speed before I realized I couldn't hear him anymore.

I rounded the bend and saw the thief—his face was completely obscured by some kind of black fabric—between me and Tomas, who was looming at the end of the aisle. The thief turned back in the direction he'd been going and saw me.

This time, I was prepared for the vertical leap, and it didn't catch me off guard. I was already moving as he left the ground, getting to him just in time to grab his ankle before he could pull himself up on top of the crates beside him. I yanked hard, pulling him down, and heard the ominous creak of wood.

Tomas saved me from being crushed under tumbling crates, appearing beside us, hands up to keep the stack in place. The thief, however, tumbled against me, and I automatically gripped him around his torso to hold him in place… and felt something soft.

His chest was soft, pressing against the top of my arm.

It took me a moment to realize what I was feeling.

To realize that he wasn't a he at all.

She made a noise like a scalded cat, twisting and elbowing me in the gut, knocking the air right out of my lungs with the sharp point. All it took was a moment of my hold loosening, just a bit, and she managed to tear herself up and away.

If Tomas hadn't been there, I would have lost her right then.

He vaulted over me, catching her by the arm.

And if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it.

The moment he grabbed her, she twisted in his grip, her foot already going out, aimed straight at his groin. He bent at the waist, jerking his lower body back and out of her reach. It didn't matter. Even as she kicked, the rest of her was moving as well, continuing to twist and her other leg came up as she threw herself into a spin in the air, nailing him right in the head.

My jaw dropped open as Tomas hit the ground.

She just kept surprising me.

But it also meant I was more prepared.

If there had been just one of us—if it had been anyone other than myself and Tomas—I'm not sure we would have caught her.

As I was moving past him, he was already getting up, shaking off the kick to the head. I ran up behind her, but this time, I didn't try to grab her arm. I tackled her instead. We went rolling. Being bigger and heavier, I managed to get on top of her, but almost the second I straddled her waist, she was grabbing onto my shirt and pulling me forward. Her hips lifted, and I found myself rolling forward, off of her.

Tomas was on her before she could get onto her feet, his face a grim mask. Getting into a sitting position behind her, he pulled her arms back hard enough that she cried out, and a shiver went through my body. Straddling her legs, pinning her lower body down, I reached up to rip the thin fabric—the veil—from her face.

And found myself staring into Clara's furious, tear-filled blue eyes.

"Fuck."

We'd captured my cousin-in-law's best friend.

Clara is our thief?

A multitude of thoughts tumbled through my head, but there was one that rose to the top above all the rest—I was going to spank the hell out of her.

* * *

Clara

Caught.

There was no point in continuing to fight once my face had been revealed, so I didn't. I needed to save my energy for escaping. Eventually. Not that Gio was going to make it easy on me.

I at least had some satisfaction about how difficult I'd made it for them to catch me, slim satisfaction though it was. I couldn't stop mentally kicking myself. Especially when they literally rolled me up in a rug to carry me out of the warehouse. I could hardly breathe, squished between the fabric, and the inability to move was making me feel panicked, but there wasn't anything I could do.

If only I hadn't been so distracted by that stupid note.

Trying to keep my breathing even and steady because it already felt like I was running out of air, I felt tears start to slide down my cheeks. My breath hitched.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

I would run out of air if I did. I was sure of it.

All of my focus was on trying not to cry, even as more tears leaked down my face and snot clogged my nose, making my breathing situation even more precarious. I was going to die here in this carpet.

They put me down. I tried to listen, but if they were talking, I couldn't hear them. But I felt the vibration of the car as it started. I was in a car. Probably the trunk. It had already been so dark, I couldn't tell from the light but what I could feel of the surface was too flat to be a seat.

I couldn't move enough to escape. I wriggled, trying to work my way up through the roll, but I wasn't getting anywhere. I tried to roll back and forth, but they'd wedged me against something. My breath was coming faster in short, little pants that I couldn't stop as my emotions welled up.

Stay calm. Just stay calm and wait for the right opportunity.

If any opportunity came. Maybe they'd just toss me in the river, still rolled up in the carpet. Or dump me in a barrel of cement. Or use me for target practice.

They wouldn't do that; Hailey would go berserk.

Hailey wouldn't know.

I wanted to wail, but I managed to hold it back, just barely.

I don't know how long I was in the carpet. I think I started blacking out as I struggled for air. I wanted to black out. I didn't want to spend one single more moment aware of how helpless I was, of feeling the crush of fabric tightening around me.

I was aware when the car stopped. When they picked me up again. I stifled a sob as they began to move me, every muscle tensing in my body as I waited for my inevitable death.

But they kept walking.

And walking.

It was pure torture.

Maybe that's all they were going to do. Carry me around until I wanted to die just to make it end.

I'm already there, boys. Just get it over with!

I had never thought I'd be the type of person to lay down and accept death, but I'd never imagined I'd be in this type of situation, either. Every time I'd thought about getting caught, I'd always imagined how I'd get away.

I'd almost done it.

But almost didn't count.

Dizziness rushed through me as I suddenly went rolling, hitting something on the floor hard. My vision swam, blurry and fuzzy, but I was no longer in the carpet. I automatically tried to get to my feet but immediately fell back down again, my limbs not working correctly.

"What the hell is this?" The voice was deep, angry, and vaguely familiar. Rather than trying to get up again, I blinked rapidly, attempting to get my bearings as I finally sucked in as much air as my lungs could take. It felt so good to breathe, tears sprang to my eyes all over again in relief.

I'm not dead yet.

"That's Hailey's friend." That voice I recognized—Hailey's husband, Jack, clearly shocked and disbelieving. "Clara."

Blinking away the tears, I tilted my head back and looked up to see Jack and his father, Don DiNardo, standing over me.

"What is going on? You were supposed to catch the thief!"

I was a little insulted he immediately jumped to the conclusion that I couldn't possibly be a thief, but on the other hand, I was more than prepared to use that to my advantage.

"What's going on?" I wailed, letting all the pent-up tears that I'd been holding back finally burst forward. I made sure Jack and his father got a good look before I reached up to cover my face. I got a good glimpse of the room we were in, too—it looked like an office with a big desk and several bookshelves. "What's happening?"

Letting loose my emotions was easier, all the tears entirely authentic, as were my heaving sobs. I was so relieved to be here rather than at the bottom of the Hudson, it was easy to play the part of a distraught damsel.

"That's the thief," Gio said, speaking loudly over my sobbing. I pretended not to hear him. The best thing I could do was play… well, not possum exactly, but innocent, helpless prey.

Definitely not someone who would be stealing from them and just about every other person of wealth in the city.

"You're saying Clara is the thief?" Yup, Jack was buying my sobbing act so far, and I was going to sell it hard. I kept crying, letting myself spend all my tears because, at some point, I was probably going to have to make a run for it, so I needed to vent the emotions while I could. The more I got out, the easier it would be to shut them off when it was time to make my move.

"Yes." Gio said it definitively, then sighed, as if frustrated by the lack of belief from his uncle and cousin. "Look at her! Look at what she's wearing! Tomas… tell them."

"She's the thief." He said it plainly, baldly, and also uncaringly, as if it was no matter to him if they believed him or not. Unfortunately, that made him all the more convincing.

I sniffled and looked up at Jack as his father as pitifully as I could. Underestimate me, underestimate me, underestimate me…

Jack sighed. Closing his eyes, he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, as though he was trying to stave back a headache or some really unpleasant thoughts.

"You and Hailey are quite the pair," he said finally, shaking his head, then looked at his dad, who was still staring at me with a stony expression. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. "We can't kill her. Hailey might actually murder me if we kill her."

"Well, we can't let her keep stealing from us. She needs to be kept under control. An example needs to be made." The lack of emotion in his voice sent chills up my spine, and I felt my lower lip wobbling. The way he looked at me, like I was a bug in the rug, easily crushed beneath his heel, made me wonder how much he cared about Hailey's feelings.

"I'll take her," Gio said suddenly.

Take me? Take me where? I didn't like how they were all talking about me and my future as if I wasn't there.

"I'm not going anywhere with him," I said automatically. Then I squealed as a hand suddenly gripped the back of my neck, fingers pressing into the delicate flesh, making me reel. I tried to jerk forward, but his other hand tugged off my hat and grabbed onto my hair, holding me in place by my curls and the back of my neck.

"If she's my wife, she can't testify against me, and I can keep her in line." He spoke as if I hadn't said a word, and now I couldn't. Not just because of his fingers pressing into my throat but because his declaration sent me reeling.

Had he just said I'd be his wife?

As I stared ahead in shock, my lips parted, eyes bulging, Don DiNardo nodded.

"Good. Then she's your problem to handle."

Good? Good? There was nothing good about this. Yet, when he looked at me again, calling me a problem, I felt another chill go down his spine. Because if I wasn't Gio's problem, then I was the don's… and I really didn't want to know what the don would do to solve a problem like me.

Obviously, I wanted to live, but I didn't want to be married to Gio. Right? I was pretty sure I didn't want to be married to Gio.

But I didn't think I was being given a choice.