Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

Elizabeth

Some part of me was begging me to take Elian’s advice, to pack everything valuable, stick it in a moving van, and just… drive somewhere.

Objectively, there were better places than Brooklyn to work on political campaigns.

Washington D.C. was the most obvious choice.

The thing was, it wasn’t like I was super passionate about politics. I’d kind of stumbled into campaign management when I’d been looking for jobs with good benefits. I’d been working since college on marketing and public relations jobs, but doing it all freelance. So I’d been paying for my own insurance. And, yeah, that got expensive as hell.

But I didn’t care about the game of politics. The parties and their platforms. Because the more you worked inside of politics, the more you knew that these people would say whatever they needed to say to secure a vote, even if they didn’t believe it, or intend to make good on it.

And, sure, that was all of public relations and marketing. Getting people to believe something, to buy into, or buy, something.

It just felt a lot more slimy when it came to public servants who were supposed to represent the people who voted for them.

I didn’t imagine I was going to manage another campaign again once I was done with this job.

Which meant I could literally move anywhere. There were big cities in so many different states, each having different vibes to offer.

And I had no connections here.

But the other voice in my head, growing louder with each passing moment, knew I couldn’t give up. Not yet. Michael couldn’t get away with this. He had to face justice.

I was the only one who could make that happen.

I could leave after.

“I could—“ I started.

But Elian cut me off.

“You could come stay with me.”

“What?” I asked, sure I misheard him.

He almost looked as surprised as I did for a second before, suddenly, he was nodding. “Yeah. You could come stay with me. I have room. You will be safe there. You could continue to go to work, so long as you leave before you’re alone in the office, and then come back to my place until you get the recording you need. Then… you can decide from there what to do.”

“I couldn’t ask—“

“You’re not asking,” he cut me off. “I’m offering. I understand you don’t exactly know me, either. And I know this might sound cocky as fuck, but I’m probably the only person who could keep you safe right now if you’re insisting on staying in Brooklyn.”

He was right, I didn’t know him.

Save for knowing he was a literal member of the Italian mafia.

But he’d saved me, a complete stranger, from being gunned down on the sidewalk. He’d taken me to get medical care. He’d come running when I called upset about the break-in.

Maybe, objectively, this man was closer to these Bratva guys than he was to a normal person like me. But wasn’t that what made him the right kind of guy to protect me? At least for a day or two? Hopefully that was all I needed to be able to get the recording and turn it over to the proper authorities. And maybe some news stations, just to keep the police accountable as well.

Was it taking a risk to trust a stranger? Yes. But it was just as risky to stay here, wasn’t it?

“Kevin…” I said.

“Can come,” he said, nodding. “You can even bring that hideous tower if you want,” he said, making my lips curve up for the first time in what felt like days as we both turned to look at the stand in question where Kevin was sitting licking his paws.

“It will only be for a day or two,” I insisted.

“It can be as long as it needs to be,” he said, shrugging. “So pack heavier than you hope you’re going to need, just in case. Is there anything you want me to get together?”

“Would it be insane of me to ask you to bring the espresso maker?” I asked, glancing over at it. I wasn’t sure I could motivate myself to go into the office without my usual morning treat.

“Probably,” he agreed, eyes bright. “But I’ll grab it while you get everything else ready. Do you want the tree stand?”

“It’s his favorite thing in the world,” I said, tone apologetic.

“Then we’ll bring it. Go get packed.”

With that, I did, rushing into my closet to grab my biggest rolling suitcase, a duffle bag, and a weekender, then throwing a bunch of clothes in before going to get necessary things from my bathroom.

I even stopped to grab my fireproof bag full of my essential documents and tucked that in as well. Just in case someone came back into my apartment while I was gone and took my things.

Finally, I made my way out to the kitchen to find that Elian had located one of the delivery boxes I hadn’t broken down, and had stuffed my espresso machine, my beans, and my syrup into it.

I rushed around to grab a bunch of things for Kevin—food, bowls, and one of his beds—before locating his soft carrier and wrangling the unhappy cat into it.

“Your meds,” Elian reminded me, gesturing toward the cabinet where I kept them.

“Right,” I agreed, emptying them into my purse.

“We’re going to need to do several trips,” I said, looking at all the stuff I’d accumulated.

“No. We’re gonna do this in one,” he said, starting to grab my duffle and weekender bags, throwing them up his shoulders, then walking over to grab the tree stand with one hand and then coming back for the box with the other.

“Oh, I forgot his litter box.”

“Is it a special one?” he asked.

“Ah, no…”

“Then we’ll just grab a new one as soon as you’re safe at my place,” he said.

I didn’t want to argue with that logic, so I grabbed my purse, my rolling suitcase, and Kevin’s carrier, and we were heading out.

My heartbeat was hammering in my chest as we rode down to the lobby, sure some men all in black would come charging out of the shadows or around the corner and shoot me.

In the end, though, it was an uneventful trip into the lobby where he instructed me to stand with the group of concerned neighbors who wanted to ask about my ordeal while he stuffed everything into the car.

And then, finally, he was shuffling me into the car, positioning his body in such a way as to try to block me from view.

“Slump down into the seat until we’re moving,” he told me as he tried to turn out into traffic.

It was a surprisingly short drive from my apartment building to his. He lived in a smaller building than mine. Older. With a classic limestone exterior, complete with ornate details that made me a little envious.

“He’s not a fan of that thing, huh?” Elian asked as we climbed out of the car as Kevin hissed and shrieked as I accidentally jostled him around.

“I think the only time he was ever in a carrier when my grandfather had him was to take him to the vet. He’s making his objections to getting his temperature taken known,” I told him.

The lobby of Elian’s apartment building was a lot less assuming than mine was, but I figured that had a lot to do with the fact that it was a much older building.

We rode up silently, save for Kevin’s incessant shrieking, to the top floor, then exited into a hallway that bisected through the two apartments that took up the entire floor.

“Wow,” I said, looking between the two. “Only one neighbor.”

“No neighbor,” Elian said, shaking his head. “When that went up, I bought it too,” he said, waving to the door opposite of where he was sticking a key in a lock.

I think I was gaping at that when he turned because he gave me a little smile. “I want a family one day,” he explained. “I’m gonna need the space. And I like this building. It seemed like a no-brainer.”

I wouldn’t pretend to know everything about real estate prices in this area, but given the neighborhood and the sizes of these condos, he had to have spent at least a couple million to own both of them.

“I figure I can hire someone to connect the condos when the time comes,” he told me as he pushed open his door, and reached inside to flick on a light. “Let that poor guy out before he has a stroke,” he said when I stood there in the hallway, still a little in shock over the idea of him having millions on hand to spend.

I moved in the door.

And went ahead and did some more gaping.

I guess some part of me was expecting more of the usual hyper-modern, all white and marble everything. It was the design of every apartment I’d checked out when I’d been ready to move into my own place after college.

And while a part of me had really grown to like the clean, bright feel of it since moving in, I had to admit that Elian’s place had a little more, I don’t know, charm.

The gray lime wash walls, wooden kitchen cabinets and floors, and concrete countertops seemed like they should feel cold and industrial, but it somehow managed to feel welcoming and warm.

There were floor-to-ceiling windows along one wall that must have let a lot of gorgeous light in during the day.

Elian’s decor was almost nonexistent, save for the charcoal gray sectional, a wooden console table under a large TV, and a dining room table that felt almost comically large for a condo in Brooklyn.

“I have my family over on occasion,” Elian explained, catching me looking at it. “And I plan to have a wife and kids one day.”

I had to admit it was kind of refreshing to hear a man talk so openly about wanting a wife and family one day. While I still had a few years of plugging away at my career ahead of me, I liked the idea of having a family myself. Though maybe not as many kids as it seemed like Elian was looking forward to.

I put Kevin up on the island, unzipping the bag, and waiting for him to peek his head out, dubious about his surroundings. Then, spotting his tree stand, he was off.

“I’ll show you to your room, then go grab the box and litter for Kevin,” he said, leading me through the living room and into the hallway that featured two bedrooms and a hall bath.

If I thought my bedroom was reasonably roomy, given the average square space of apartments in Brooklyn, then this guest bedroom was absolutely massive.

The same warm wooden floors carried on into the bedroom, but the walls were painted a cream color. The bed was queen-sized and covered in a linen cream and white striped comforter.

“Do you want me to move Kevin’s tree in here, or do you think he’d rather have it in the living room?” Elian asked, placing my luggage near the closet.

“I think it might be best to leave it where it is, since he’s used to it being in the living room. Unless you’d rather I keep it in here. I know it’s hideous.”

“Living room it is,” he said. “I’m gonna pick up some dinner before I head back too. Any restrictions?” he asked.

“You don’t need to feed—“ I started to object, getting a raised brow out of him, and changing tack. “No, I like just about everything. Thanks.”

With that, he was heading out, and I was left to hang up my clothes so they didn’t wrinkle before heading out to the kitchen to set up my espresso machine and Kevin’s bowls.

He seemed happy at the change of venue, walking around the back of the sectional until he found his new favorite spot, and sat down to clean himself.

“Nice digs, right, bud?” I asked, taking a deep breath as I looked around, feeling the way tension was slowly seeping out of my body at finally feeling safe.

The exhale ended on a laugh, though, as I realized the one place in Brooklyn I felt safe… was in the home of a member of the Italian mafia.

It was right about then that there was the click of a key in the lock, making me move out of the kitchen.

“Did you forget—“ I started, then trailed off when two women were moving into the apartment.

“Elian,” the first one called out, a short, slight woman with dark hair pulled into a French braid, and big-golden brown eyes in her young, pretty face.

“Who are you?” the second woman asked. She was taller with a lot more presence, looking fierce and strong in jeans and a black tank top, her sleek dark hair pulled into a ponytail.

“Oh,” the first woman said, golden eyes going wide as she looked at me. “Hi,” she said, seeming to shrink into herself in the presence of a stranger.

“Hi. Um, I’m Elizabeth,” I explained. “I’m a friend of Elian’s,” I said, not knowing how else to describe what I was.

“A friend?” the taller woman asked, tone dubious before her keen gaze landed on the bruise on my face. “What the fuck is that?” she asked, moving away from the younger woman toward me, her heels clicking on the wood floor as she approached. “Did Elian—“

“My brother would never hit a woman,” the younger one insisted, outraged on behalf of her brother.

“Elian didn’t hit me,” I was quick to explain, wanting to defend him too. The man had been nothing but good to me in the short time I’d known him. “He’s… trying to protect me from the people who did,” I added.

“No shit,” the taller woman said. “You’re the one who got shot,” she said, gaze going to my arm.

“I, ah, yeah,” I agreed.

“Is she the reason I have to have a bodyguard?” the younger woman asked.

“No,” the taller one was quick to say. “But I think she’s proof of why you need me, don’t you?” she asked, waving again at my face.

“That bad, huh?” I asked, not having seen it since right after it happened.

“It’s not pretty,” the tall one said. “I’m Cinna, by the way. This one’s bodyguard for the time being,” she said, waving at the younger one.

“And you’re Elian’s sister?” I asked, not seeing much of a resemblance save for the dark hair and golden eyes.

“Islah,” she said, giving me a small smile.

“Is Elian here?” Cinna asked, glancing around.

“He ran out to get a litter box,” I said, waving over toward Kevin.

“Oh, hey!” Islah said, immediately melting as she went over toward Kevin, kneeling on the couch to pet his silky black fur.

“How strong of coffee does that thing make?” Cinna asked, waving to the espresso machine.”

“About as dark as you can handle,” I said.

“Make me a cup?” she asked, looking tired.

“Sure,” I agreed, looking through the cabinets to find mugs, then getting to work on that. “So, you’re a bodyguard?” I asked, turning back to find her leaning against the counter watching me.

“I’m a capo. Same as Elian,” she explained.

“Oh, wow. I didn’t think…”

“That women could be capos?” she finished for me. “They can’t in any of the other families. This one is progressive like that. I’m playing bodyguard because of the Bratva. Elian is protective over his baby sister. And she’s not very comfortable around men, so she’s stuck with me for the time being.”

“They seem busy, huh?” I asked, loading up the machine for another shot. “The Bratva,” I clarified.

“They’re making big moves, that’s for sure,” she agreed. “What happened to your face? That looks fresh.”

“Someone was in my apartment when I came home tonight,” I told her.

“And you called Elian,” she said, shaking her head. “Should I be planning on a spring wedding?” she asked.

“Wedding? No. No, it’s not like that. He’s just… being nice.”

“Sure, sure,” Cinna agreed, a strange smile tugging at her lips that I didn’t understand, and didn’t know her well enough to interpret.

I finished making her coffee and handed it over before asking if Islah wanted one too.

“Tea, please,” she said sweetly as Kevin climbed up on her lap, then onto her chest, nuzzling his face against hers.

“Ah, tea,” I said, looking around at the cabinets.

“He has it somewhere,” Cinna said. “He dotes on Islah, so anything she likes has to be in stock somewhere.”

Cinna was right about that. I found a kettle in the cabinet and tea in a cupboard, then got to work making cups for the both of us.

I was a coffee girl through and through, but I figured that tea would be a lot more soothing after the day I’d had.

Islah and I made small talk about Kevin until fifteen or so minutes later, I heard the rustle of bags in the hallway before the door pushed open.

“I got… oh,” he said, gaze landing on his sister, then Cinna, before they found me.

“You have company,” I declared, cradling my hot mug as he put down the box of litter and moved further into the apartment.

“Your sweet little sister wanted to come here to chew you out for sticking me on her watchdog duty,” Cinna explained. “We didn’t know you had a… guest.”

Again, there was something strange in Cinna’s tone and face as she said that, and the way Elian glared at her told me he heard and saw it too, but I felt out of the loop about it.

“Islah, you gotta work with me here,” he said as he brought the bag of food over to the counter and set it down. “It’s for your protection. And I’m sure Cinna isn’t getting in your way. The other option is for you to get out of Brooklyn for a while,” he said, seeming to know he was going to strike a nerve because his lips were twitching.

“It’s fine,” Islah said, jumping up, not even bothering to try to swipe the cat hair off of her shirt. “We should get going, though. Thanks for the tea, Elizabeth.”

“I feel another tour around a bookstore in my immediate future,” Cinna said, exhaling a bit, then downing the rest of her coffee. “Nice to meet you,” she said, then shot a strange smile at Elian before following Islah out.

“I can’t imagine your sister chewing you out.”

“She’s shy around strangers, but has no problem… asserting herself around family,” he told me, fishing plates out of the cabinets, and setting our meals on top of them.

The conversation over dinner was light, mostly involving talk about his family and Cinna. Who, apparently, was now involved with a fellow capo, and while everyone supported it, Elian admitted it still felt strange to see them together after so many years.

Then, after cleaning up, and setting up Kevin’s litter box, we both went to our separate rooms. Where I fell almost immediately asleep, lulled by the feeling of safety I hadn’t known in several nights.

Everything was fine.

Going to plan.

Until the next morning while running across the hall in only a towel because I’d forgotten my clothes, I slammed right into an equally undressed Elian.