Page 22 of Queen of Misfortune (Shadows of Redemption)
Her gaze moves around the area, and I know she’s looking for Niko or one of his men.
“It’s okay. I promise,” I tell her. “Or if you’d rather act like you never saw me, that’s okay too.” After all, I don’t want to get her in trouble.
I exit and head to the elevator. With each step, a growing sense of freedom builds. I anticipate being in the city as just another person. Not Lucia Fiori Conti, Mafia widow or pawn depending on whom you ask. I’m just a regular woman.
The elevator dings, and a giddiness bubbles in my chest as I wait for the doors to open. I’m sure I’m smiling like a loon.
The doors slide open, and I step forward, only to be met by a wall of man. His hands grip my arms, probably because I’m about to walk into him, but maybe to manhandle me. Either way, it sends undesired tingles up my arms. I jerk out of his grasp and step into the elevator.
One dark brow arches. “Where are you going?”
"Out," I say it with authority. Like there’s no question.
He stands in the open door of the elevator, preventing it from closing as he looks up and down the hall. "By yourself?"
“It’s none of your business.”
He rolls his eyes and steps into the elevator, pressing the button for the garage.
"I don’t need a bodyguard. Elena’s inside. Go babysit her." My shoulders square. Can’t he see that I don’t need him?
"Rules are rules." He steps away from the panel, closer to me. His scent surrounds me as the doors slide shut, sealing us together. His scent surrounds me, making my blood heat. It’s out of anger, right?
"I'm not made of glass."
"Never said you were. But the streets aren't safe." His voice is low but insistent. It says there will be no discussion.
“Who is watching Elena? I’m sure Niko would rather have you…”
There’s a flicker in his eyes that makes me think he recognizes what I’m saying is true. But when we get to the garage, he talks to one of the men on guard, who nods.
“Come on, Princess.” He guides me to a vehicle with a waiting driver.
“I’m not a princess,” I snap.
“Right. You’re a Don’s wife. Should I call you queen?”
I like the idea of being a queen, but queens are rulers, right? I have no authority. No freedoms.
“I’m perfectly capable of shopping on my own.”
He stops by the car and leans in, nearly nose to nose. His heat and his scent assail me this time. “No.”
It takes a minute for his word to get through the fog being near him often brings. “You’re insufferable.”
“That’s why I get paid the big bucks.”
Ugh! "Fine," I relent, moving to get into the SUV. "You can come."
"Thought you'd never ask." The words are light, like he’s laughing at me as he scoots in beside me. I want to punch him, but I’m not convinced that he wouldn’t strangle me.
I let the driver know where I want to go, and then I sit back, my gaze out the window, pretending Donovan isn’t there. It’s not easy to do. The man is the size of a linebacker. The intensity of him rolls off him, snap, crackling along my nerve endings.
When we get to Madison Avenue, the driver lets us out. I step onto the sidewalk, the city's pulse instantly wrapping around me. Donovan falls into stride beside me. Growing up, my protection detail always stayed several steps away from me. Close enough to intervene, but far enough that I could breathe.
“You’re too close, Toady.” I move laterally to create space.
He moves with me. “Too bad, Brat.”