defection of his soldiers, the physical violence perpetrated against his men. Alone, the incidents could have been chalked up to the kind of random interruptions that occurred in every business. Together the problems pointed to an obvious threat against Nico and his interests.
Not too long ago, her father would have been the first suspect. But he was dead and buried, and Angel had no idea who would have both the motive and the resources to launch such an aggressive attack. She didn’t love being back in close proximity to the Syndicate, but she meant what she said to Nico—she couldn’t return to her safe, quiet life while he was in danger. She would try to help, and then she would retreat from this world for good.
She’d never felt an attachment to Boston—she and David had been exiled to boarding school almost immediately following their mother’s death and had rarely returned home afterward—but the sight of it rising up near the water brought an unexpected wave of grief. This had been home once, and whenever she’d thought of her father, she had imagined him here. She and David had only been back a couple of times since the funeral, but she’d been too preoccupied with the work of going through the house to dwell on any residual affection she might have for the city. Now she realized there was nothing keeping her tied to it. She could go anywhere, start over, do anything. She wondered why the thought didn’t bring her the relief she expected.
They pulled into a parking garage near the business district. Nico’s brow was furrowed with worry as they exited onto Boylston Street, and Angel took his hand, pulling him out of the stream of suited men and women traversing the sidewalks.
She reached up, put her hands on either side of his face. “Hey.”
He looked down at her without saying anything, his face stony.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “This isn’t enemy territory for me.” She tried for a lighthearted grin. “I kind of own the place, you know.”
He didn’t smile. Instead, he pointed to a sandwich shop across the street. “I’ll be right there,” he said. “If you’re not back in an hour, I’m coming in after you.”
She had to resist the urge to shudder. The day Nico stepped into the enemy territory of Rossi Development was the day all hell would break loose. Because Nico wouldn’t come in politely asking for her. He’d come in shooting, and he wouldn’t leave until he had her.
“Don’t do that,” she said, even though she knew it wouldn’t do any good. “I’ll do my best to be back in an hour, but I don’t want it to seem like I just stopped in to pump Frank for information. Just… trust me, Nico. I’ve got this.”
She touched her lips to his and turned for the glass and steel skyscraper that was headquarters to her father’s legitimate—and unbeknownst to most people, illegitimate—business interests. She felt Nico’s eyes on her, but she didn’t look back. It would only make things worse for him.
She entered the marble lobby of the Prudential Tower and showed her ID to the security guard at the front desk. After they confirmed with someone upstairs that she had permission to be there, she took the elevator to the forty-eighth floor. Frank was waiting for her, a wide smile plastered on his face, when she stepped into the company lobby.
“Angelica!” he said, his voice an octave too loud. “What a nice surprise.”
“Hi, Uncle Frank.”
The words almost got stuck in her throat, and her smile felt painted on. Frank Morra had been a fixture in her life since birth, but she’d had no idea that he was part of the Boston Syndicate until Nico had kidnapped her. Seeing him spun a complex web of emotion in her brain—nostalgia and memory and disgust and bitterness all intertwined into something she couldn’t begin to sort.
She caught the scent of his imported cigarettes as he put an arm around her shoulders. “To what do we owe this honor? Are you in town with
Not too long ago, her father would have been the first suspect. But he was dead and buried, and Angel had no idea who would have both the motive and the resources to launch such an aggressive attack. She didn’t love being back in close proximity to the Syndicate, but she meant what she said to Nico—she couldn’t return to her safe, quiet life while he was in danger. She would try to help, and then she would retreat from this world for good.
She’d never felt an attachment to Boston—she and David had been exiled to boarding school almost immediately following their mother’s death and had rarely returned home afterward—but the sight of it rising up near the water brought an unexpected wave of grief. This had been home once, and whenever she’d thought of her father, she had imagined him here. She and David had only been back a couple of times since the funeral, but she’d been too preoccupied with the work of going through the house to dwell on any residual affection she might have for the city. Now she realized there was nothing keeping her tied to it. She could go anywhere, start over, do anything. She wondered why the thought didn’t bring her the relief she expected.
They pulled into a parking garage near the business district. Nico’s brow was furrowed with worry as they exited onto Boylston Street, and Angel took his hand, pulling him out of the stream of suited men and women traversing the sidewalks.
She reached up, put her hands on either side of his face. “Hey.”
He looked down at her without saying anything, his face stony.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “This isn’t enemy territory for me.” She tried for a lighthearted grin. “I kind of own the place, you know.”
He didn’t smile. Instead, he pointed to a sandwich shop across the street. “I’ll be right there,” he said. “If you’re not back in an hour, I’m coming in after you.”
She had to resist the urge to shudder. The day Nico stepped into the enemy territory of Rossi Development was the day all hell would break loose. Because Nico wouldn’t come in politely asking for her. He’d come in shooting, and he wouldn’t leave until he had her.
“Don’t do that,” she said, even though she knew it wouldn’t do any good. “I’ll do my best to be back in an hour, but I don’t want it to seem like I just stopped in to pump Frank for information. Just… trust me, Nico. I’ve got this.”
She touched her lips to his and turned for the glass and steel skyscraper that was headquarters to her father’s legitimate—and unbeknownst to most people, illegitimate—business interests. She felt Nico’s eyes on her, but she didn’t look back. It would only make things worse for him.
She entered the marble lobby of the Prudential Tower and showed her ID to the security guard at the front desk. After they confirmed with someone upstairs that she had permission to be there, she took the elevator to the forty-eighth floor. Frank was waiting for her, a wide smile plastered on his face, when she stepped into the company lobby.
“Angelica!” he said, his voice an octave too loud. “What a nice surprise.”
“Hi, Uncle Frank.”
The words almost got stuck in her throat, and her smile felt painted on. Frank Morra had been a fixture in her life since birth, but she’d had no idea that he was part of the Boston Syndicate until Nico had kidnapped her. Seeing him spun a complex web of emotion in her brain—nostalgia and memory and disgust and bitterness all intertwined into something she couldn’t begin to sort.
She caught the scent of his imported cigarettes as he put an arm around her shoulders. “To what do we owe this honor? Are you in town with
Similar Books
