“Fuck.” Big Joe muttered. “This is why we shouldn’t take women prisoners.” And then loud enough for her to hear, he yelled. “I’ll get Cherry. You stay put or I’m not gonna care that you’re a girl, and I’ll treat you the same as I would any dude who tried to escape.”
“It’s not like there’s anywhere I can go, especially not in my condition,” she retorted as she quickly hefted the rock. When she heard his footsteps fade away, she turned on both taps and flushed the toilet for maximum noise, then threw the rock through the window. The glass cracked and splintered, shards clattering over the toilet tank and onto the floor. Mia froze, certain that someone might have heard, but when the footsteps didn’t return, she untied her boot and put her hand inside, using it to clear the small shards of glass from around the window frame. Slipping it back on, she climbed on the tank and pushed herself through the window.
“Cherry’s coming.” Big Joe knocked on the door. “She’s got your … girl stuff.”
“Great! Boy do I need it.” Mia yelled over her shoulder, realizing as she hung half in and half out of the window, that the forward approach wasn’t the best idea. But now she was stuck, and her ass clearly was bigger than she’d thought because no matter how much she wiggled, she couldn’t get through. She scrambled, kicking the wall and the toilet tank as she tried to shake herself free. Her undone boot came loose and tumbled to the floor. No time to retrieve it. With one last shove she pushed herself through and tumbled headlong into the garbage bags piled below.
“Open up, honey.” A female voice called out. “I got what you need right here.”
Mia pushed herself up and limped for the road, her booted foot thudding on the sidewalk. She heard a shout, the splinter of wood, and the slam of a door. She sprinted away from the garage, her heart pounding so hard she thought she might break a rib.
Run. Run. Run.
She turned the corner and raced down the empty street, the thrill of escape tempered by the loss of her boot and the reality of being on the run from three crime families who all thought she was responsible for the massacre. If she didn’t make it home …
No. Defeat wasn’t an option. Tonight, she wasn’t a victim. She was free.
And she intended to stay that way.
SEVEN
“Are you sure you need me there?” Mia folded her arms and leaned against the wall in the bedroom of her brother’s lavish penthouse, all cool marble and floor-to-ceiling windows with incredible east to west views of Las Vegas. Three days after her dramatic escape from the Toscani mob, life was back to the crazy kind of normal that was Mafia life.
“It’s a matter of respect.” Dante adjusted his tie, his gaze on Mia in the mirror. They shared the same dark eyes and olive skin, but his hair was fair where hers was dark, and his face was sharp and angular where hers was smooth. “With Papà in the hospital, I’m the acting boss, and I want the whole family to be at Don Falzone’s funeral to show our support. We aren’t enemies with the Falzones like we are with the Toscanis,” he continued. “And in this time of upheaval we need to keep our allies close.”
Mia rarely participated in mob-related events, and then only under duress. In her mind, the day she walked out of the family home was the day she was done with the mob, and with their father now in the hospital, there was no one to force her to go.
“It’s not safe,” she protested. “The Toscanis will be there.” And in particular, the dangerously handsome, Nico Toscani, who made her feel the kinds of things she shouldn’t feel for a family enemy who had kidnapped her and tied her up, albeit for a very short time. “What if they told everyone I was responsible for the massacre?”
“No one would dare pull a trigger on holy ground. And the police found the murder weapon over a mile away. I’ve made sure all the families know you weren’t responsible. They wouldn’t have believed it anyway. You’re a woman. And it’s been three days since it happened—long enough for the message to be passed along.” His voice rose to a pleading tone. “Please, Mia. I need you. It shows my strength to have the entire family with me. I’m asking, but you know Papà would make you come.”
She couldn’t refuse her brother. Although he’d never been there for her in the way she’d always thought a big brother should be, he was still family and he had saved Kat from Tony. “I’ll come for you, not for him. You know how I feel about Papà.”
Dante’s lips tightened. “He may be hard on us, but he cares about the family.”
“Hard on us?” She stared at him aghast. “He beats me. He killed Danny right in front of me. He tricked you into shooting Don Toscani by telling you the don had pulled a gun. And he got away with the lie.”