The Pact Book 2

ALEXANDRIA

“Were you planning to tell me before or after you left Beth’s place?” Christian’s voice comes through the phone, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

For the past two years, Noah and I have been staying with Beth, a friend of Frankie’s, and her husband.

“Easy on the attitude, cousin.”

“I mean it, Allie. Two years ago, you begged me to come get you, saying you’d found Noah’s dad, and now you’re suddenly moving to Vegas?”

“I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me, but I need a change. I’ve found a job, a good one, and I’m building a life for Noah and me.”

“He hasn’t stopped searching for you,” Christian warns, and I feel a knot in my stomach. “Every day I’ve been throwing him off your trail. If you start working, he’ll find you.”

“Sylvester wasn’t the Ferraro I was running from.”

I know I didn’t handle the situation well, but I didn’t know what else to do.

Running away might not have been the smartest decision, but then again, neither was hooking up with a stranger on New Year’s Eve in a foreign country.

I miss Sylvester like crazy. For the first six months, I cried every night. He was real, a real love, and I let him go. I left him.

“Promise me you’re safe.”

“I’m safe, Chris. I’ve dropped off Noah and our stuff at our new apartment, and now I’m on my way to present a tasting menu to my new boss.”

“You’re back to cooking?”

“Head chef at the Carmichael Grand in Las Vegas.”

“I’m proud of you, Allie. I don’t agree with your choices, and I still think you should have faced Jonathan Ferraro, but I love you, and I’m proud of you.”

“Love you too.”

I end the call as I walk through the doors of the air-conditioned five-star Vegas hotel and resort.

“Ms. Romano?” A man in a suit, sporting an earpiece, checks my identity before leading me to the kitchen.

I’m in awe as I step into the stainless-steel paradise and get to work.

Completely in my zone, I whip up a six-course tasting menu.

“Mr. Carmichael was called away. He sent his daughter,” the man with the earpiece informs me just as a stunning redhead strides into the kitchen.

“Damn, it smells good in here!” She grins, and I feel myself relax. “Thanks, Carter, I’ve got it from here.”

Carter, the man with the earpiece, leaves, and she turns to me, extending her hand. “I’m Anna, nice to meet you.”

“Allie. Nice to meet you too.”

Anna doesn’t waste any time. She tries every plate and then collapses onto a stool with a satisfied moan.

“That was seriously amazing. Now, down to business. Are you sure you want to work for my dad?

“I’ll pay you triple just to cook for me all the time. I’m a mediocre cook, and my husband would love the change.” She laughs.

“You’re married?”

“Three years and counting.” She smiles. “You?”

“Not married, just me and my son. He’s nine.”

“Oh, nice! Marc wants a bunch of kids, but I’m holding onto our relaxed adult lifestyle for a bit longer. It’s not my fault he’s an old man.”

“Do you need any other samples of my work or anything else?” I ask, and she smiles.

“Just promise that you’ll be my new best friend.”

“Sure.” I can’t help but laugh.

“You won’t regret it. I may not be a great cook, but I’m useful. Want to disappear? I can erase you from existence. No one would find you.”

She says it with a smile, but I’m seriously considering her offer. Although, it might not be smart to tell my new boss’s daughter that I’m hiding from the Italian Mafia.

“Okay, Allie, let’s grab a drink.” She pulls me out of the kitchen and leads me to an old-fashioned bar in the center of the hotel floor. “What’s your drink?”

“Scotch,” I answer without hesitation.

“Did you hear that, Lou? Make it two.” Anna addresses the bartender. “So, you really are Italian, right? Your accent reminds me of home.”

“Home?”

“My mom is Italian. You wouldn’t know it with my hair. Got that from my dad. My mom is old-school Italian, though. I’m just lucky Marc is Italian, otherwise I might have had a war on my hands.”

I laugh, thinking of my own parents and their hopes of me settling down with a nice Italian boy.

“Do you speak Italian?”

“Only when I have to. My cousins make fun of me.”

“You can practice on me. I miss home.”

“No chance you’ll go back?”

“Not anytime soon.”

“Anastasia!” A loud male voice echoes across the hotel, and I look up to see an older man, his hair sprinkled with red, approaching us.

“Allie, meet Jacob Carmichael,” Anna introduces with a smile and a casual wave towards her father.

I stand up out of respect.

“Mr. Carmichael, it’s such a pleasure. Thank you so much for this opportunity.”

“Please, call me Jacob, and you’re welcome, my dear.” He shakes my hand warmly before turning to his daughter. “Marcello is looking for you.”

“Oh, shoot.” Anna checks her watch. “He probably wants to leave. We live in Boston mostly. Here, it was really nice to meet you.” Anna hands me her business card, which I accept with a smile.

“You too, thanks for the chat.”

Anna kisses her father’s cheek before heading for the door.

“Thanks for the food,” she calls out over her shoulder.

SYLVESTER

I can feel my grip tightening around the guy’s throat. I know I’m crossing a line, but that’s been me lately—the guy who always crosses the line.

The man in front of me gasps, his eyes wide with fear. I can hear my brothers’ voices in the background, but they’re just a distant echo. I’m too far gone.

“No way I thought to myself.” Jonathan’s voice cuts through the haze as he and Max pull me off the guy, who crumples to the ground, gasping for air.

Jonathan hauls me outside while Max stays behind to deal with the guy.

“Calm down,” Jonathan snaps at me.

It’s not the first time he’s said that to me in the past two years. Hell, he probably says it to me at least ten times a day.

“We need him to talk.”

“Exactly. He can’t do that if he’s dead.”

“I’m just doing my job, brother.”

“Barely. We get it, she’s gone.” A flicker of regret crosses his face, but he quickly pushes it aside. “It’s been two years, Sly. If she wanted you, don’t you think she would have reached out?”

“You don’t know—”

“No, I don’t know her, but I do know when someone doesn’t want to be found.”

“This isn’t about Alexandria.”

“Isn’t it? Sure, this job isn’t directly related, but she’s always there, in the back of your mind, influencing your every move.”

Before I can respond, Max comes out of the room, locking the door behind him.

“He gave us a location.”

I shoot Jonathan an “I told you so” look, and he just rolls his eyes.

“Let’s get this done then.” I clap my hands together, but both of my brothers just look at me.

“You’re not coming,” Jonathan says.

“You need to get your head straight,” Max adds.

“What I need is to do my job.”

“Don sent new instructions,” Max says, avoiding my gaze.

“What did Marc say?”

“He wants you in Vegas. With Annie.”

“Why?”

“He has business back in Boston and doesn’t want to leave her alone. You know how he is.”

Yes, I do.

Ever since the Irish kidnapped her, Marcello has been keeping a close eye on our cousin. Not that she’s complaining about the extra attention.

“Why can’t one of you babysit?”

“Because we didn’t just try to kill a witness.”

I argue with them for a while longer, but it’s pointless. Two hours later, I’m on a Sparrow Industries jet headed for Las Vegas.

***

The first thing I see when I get off the plane is a man holding a sign that reads Ferraro. His face is expressionless. I walk over to him, and his expression doesn’t change.

“Mr. Ferraro?” His voice has a slight accent. Definitely Italian.

“Yes.”

“Don sent me to make sure you get to the hotel safely,” he says, gesturing toward the exit. “The car is waiting.”

“Where’s Marcello?”

“With Donna Anastasia,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And it should be.

But my idea of love and romance died two years ago.

Love is messy, and it hurts. I prefer sex, plain and simple.

I’m driven to the Carmichael Grand Hotel, which is owned by my aunt and uncle. Once inside, Marcello’s lackey leads me to the restaurant.

“Sly!” Anna rushes over and wraps her arms around my neck.

“I’m not happy,” I grumble, and she laughs. Anna pulls me over to the table where she and Marcello are sitting.

“I know, but this way you’re not bothering your brothers or accidentally killing people,” she says softly.

“I don’t accidentally kill anyone. They deserve it.”

“Your methods aren’t helping our organization,” Anna says, emphasizing the last word.

“My apologies, Donna.”

Marcello growls at my sarcasm, but Anna puts a hand on his, and he calms down.

“You need a change of scenery, Sly. We love you, and we’re worried. Now, you can either suck it up and put on a smile or I’ll make your life hell.”

Anna smirks, and I know she means it. I nod, and she signals for a waiter.

“Yes, Mrs. Morretti?”

“Tell the chef to go all out. Anything she wants to cook. The more Italian, the better.”

“New chef?” Marc asks.

“Yeah, Dad had me do the tasting a few days ago. She’s from Italy, and her food is amazing. You’re in for a treat.”

Anna is right. The food is incredible, and it takes the edge off my anger about this whole situation.

Marc explains my new role—babysitter to his wife, my cousin.

Most of Anna’s work is done in the hotel’s security room. She’s been doing surveillance for them as well as IT maintenance for Sparrow.

“She’s in good hands, Don.” I shake Marc’s hand before he kisses Anna’s forehead, gives her a tight hug, and heads to the helicopter pad.

“Dessert?” she asks as we sit back down.

“Annie, you’re killing me.”

She orders tiramisu, and for a moment, I’m transported back to a restaurant in Sicily that I haven’t set foot in for two years.

“You okay?”

“Just thinking.”

Anna smiles softly, and I turn my attention back to my dessert.

“Anna, they told me to tell you we’re closed. Apparently, the waitstaff are scared of the boss’s daugh—Sylvester?”

I look up, and there she is.

The girl I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with.

The fiery Italian who made me believe in love.

I’m swamped with feelings, but I latch onto the simplest one. Anger.