hip, took off the safety and aimed it at his forehead.
His lips twitched on one side. “What if I said to you right now that you had to kill her? That this gun would be pointed at you until you put a bullet between her eyes? And if you didn't, I'd put one between yours?”
“I'd shoot you first.” My grip on the gun, like my gaze, was steady. “Because I'd rather kill you and have her hate me, than die and offer her up to her father on a silver platter.”
Darien's eyes flitted across my face, intense in their scrutiny of me. I didn't move a muscle as he studied my expression. I refused to. He didn't trust me as far as he could throw me, I could see it, and I'd bet he couldn't throw me very fucking far.
He raised his thumb and replaced the safety. He slowly lowered the gun and replaced it in the drawer, slamming it shut. “Put it down, Carlo. No one is shooting anyone today. Unless that motherfucker sends his lackeys over here.”
“He already did,” I remarked smartly, putting the safety on my gun before settling it back in my holster. “Why'd you put it back?”
“Because you're a killer, but you're no liar.” He dipped his head slightly. “I believe you. The Pontarellis are a different matter, but much to Armo's annoyance, he does what Addy says.”
“When she decides she's a princess, right?”
His lips tugged up on one side. “You got it. Sometimes she's princess, sometimes she's queen, sometimes she's nothing more than a twenty-three year old girl, but she's always in control. She assumed that role the day her mamma walked into the hospital for chemotherapy.” His smile dropped. “She used her against me, you know that? Spun me the guilt trip, and I'm not even mad, because everything she said was fucking true.”
“Sounds about right.” I perched on the edge of the sofa. “She guilt-tripped me into baking brownies once, not long before you left. I was told to look after her, and in her mind, that meant chocolate brownies because she was on her period.” I sighed, but my lips fought to smile. “Two trays later and she finally gave up the trip.”
“Like I said, always in control.” Darien's smile returned briefly and he sat back down. “Now I'm worried about her. Her plan is crazy, Carlo. She can't take Enzio down.”
“Unfortunately, if she doesn't, he's going to send someone else here to get her. I bought a couple more days, but I wouldn't be shocked if he already had someone in the air to come keep an eye on me.”
“Who would he send?”
“Isaiah, probably. He's the only one he trusts.”
“This could work in our favor.” Darien touched his fingertips together in front of him.
I cocked an eyebrow. “Really? Because I can't see any situation in which Enzio's consigliere coming to Los Angeles, where Adriana is, working in our favor. Unless we're trying to get her killed, which defies the whole point of this conversation.”
He laughed. Loudly. Even threw his head back for a moment before he sobered. His amusement still shone in his eyes, though. “Isaiah is my cousin.”
“Does he know his cousin didn't crash a car because he was lovesick over Alexandria? Because that's Enzio's story.”
“Of course it is. Enzio Romano has a God-like complex with a terrifying need to be the innocent party. I expected nothing less. But yes, to answer your question.” Darien stands and opens his office window. “He knows I'm alive. You don't honestly think that the Pontarellis alone protected Adriana for this long, do you?” He turned, his eyebrows raised. “Come on, Carlo. You're smarter than that. Enzio may trust Isaiah, but trust is easily misplaced.”
“Wait. Are you telling me Isaiah's been hiding Adriana?” I couldn't wrap my head around that. “Then why did he allow Enzio to send me here? Did you know I was coming?”
“I don't know, and no. I had no idea you were coming. Neither did she.” He sighed. “I guess Isaia trusted you not to kill her.”
I'm glad someone did. Fuck knows I didn't trust myself not to.
Sometimes I wonder if I even do now.
“Darien, where's the—oh.” Adriana stops dead in the doorway. “Crap. Sorry.”
“Don't worry.” Darien laughs quietly. “Where's the what, bambina?”
My eyes slid toward her and I smiled at the nickname. Baby girl. Of course.
“I... Shit. I forgot,” she muttered, her cheeks flushing pink. “Never mind.” She turned around and walked out the door.
I felt Darien's eyes