Chapter 8 Vows And Revenge

LENA POV

Lena pulled into the parking lot and parked. As she headed towards her apartment, she noticed someone trailing her.

She took out her dagger from her bag and slowed her walk. When the person almost caught up with her she stopped walking and spun to face him.

He almost collided with her but caught himself. She held the dagger in front of her, her grip on it strong.

"Why are you following me?" she demanded, her voice hard.

The person reached up and Lena took a step closer, pressing the dagger in his chest but not hard enough to break skin.

"Keep your hands where they are and answer the damn question," she gritted.

The stranger didn't move again and answered, "It's Carlo, Selene."

She narrowed her eyes. "Your hood. Take it off."

He raised his hand slowly and pulled the hood blocking his face back. Indeed it was Carlo.

A little tension left her body but she still didn't lower the dagger. "What are you doing here, Carlo? We have never met outside the bar before."

Carlo was one of her informants, someone she almost trusted. Almost. In this world, trust wasn't given out easily. Carlo supplied her with information while she gave him files. The two of them were almost alike, each driven by revenge and each out of the world.

"I came to warn you, Selene," he answered, his expression grim. "You're fucking with Moretti now?"

Ah.

Lena lowered the dagger and took a step back. "That's my business, Carlo. I don't see how that concerns you."

"No, it doesn't. But eyes are on you now, Selene. Eyes you shouldn't have attracted to you. If something should happen to you my supplies of flies will be cut off. I need those files."

Ah, so it was just what she does for him, her use that was making him worried. He wasn't worried about her well-being.

Lena didn't know why that hurt. This was the world she lived in. There was no love, only benefits.

She placed her dagger back in her purse and straightened. "Thank you for your concern, Carlo. Nothing will happen to me. Good night to you."

She turned and walked into her apartment, leaving Carlo standing there.

Lena was immediately deep into her work when she got into her apartment to rid herself of that tension that had gripped her all evening with Rafe and the confrontation with Carlo.

Working didn't work. And so she decided to cook.

When that didn't work either she became frustrated and decided to take a walk. Perhaps the cold night air could soothe her.

She picked a shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders, her nightgown clinging to her body, and left her apartment.

The estate was large enough that she could walk without coming across anybody, and it also had a garden. So that was the path she took.

The air was crisp and the night was still. It did soothe her nerves and she could finally sort out her thoughts. Beginning with Rafe Moretti.

The man was not what Lena had expected.

Moretti's reputation was dirty and drenched in blood. He was known to be involved in all the crimes known to humanity: murder, gambling, money laundering, and on and on.

For a man with that kind of reputation, Lene had expected him to be upright, harsh, and easily irritated. But the man was anything but.

Lene knew he was teasing her with that kiss to her knuckles, trying to get a reaction out of her and she had given him one.

He unnerved her. Deeply.

If he was playing a role she recognized, she knew how to handle him, to anticipate his moves. But his constant smirking, his teasing, threw her off. She couldn't decipher his motives.

And she hated that. She needed to be able to understand her opponent if she wanted to survive whatever they dealt her with.

And there was the matter of eyes on her. She was no longer in the shadows. Just barely a week with Moretti and someone now knows her identity, eyes were now on her.

She sighed deeply, the scent of flowers filling her nose. That was when she knew she was in the garden. She was so locked up in her head that she hadn't known. What if an enemy had–

A cold metal was pressed to Lena's neck from behind and she gasped.

"Move an inch, tesoro, and this blade goes into that pretty neck of yours," a man's voice grunts, his Italian accent thick, the smell of alcohol heavy on his breath.

Lena reached for her dagger but came up empty. She had left her at her apartment.

Goddammit!

This was what happened when she let her guard down. The man pressed his body to hers and Lena swallowed down bile.

He pressed the cold blade harder against Lena's neck, and she gritted her teeth, forcing herself to remain calm.

"You think you're safe, huh?" he growled. "You're playing with fire, tesoro. You're going with the bad dogs now, and that's a damn mistake."

He pushed the blade a little more, a thin line of cold seeping into her skin, but she didn't flinch. "Moretti? That man's nothing but trouble. You don't want to be involved in that crossfire. Trust me."

Lena's mind raced, but she kept her voice steady, even though the tension gnawed at her insides. This wasn't just some random thug. Whoever sent him was serious. He was here to warn her, or maybe intimidate her-either way, it wasn't the kind of message she was used to receiving.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, her voice low but clear. "What's it to you?"

The man's grip on the knife tightened, and she could hear him shift behind her. He was trying to control the situation, to remind her of the power he held in this moment. But Lena wasn't giving him the satisfaction of fear.

"Because they have been watching, Selene Costa," he muttered. "They have seen you with Moretti. And trust me, there are eyes on you now-eyes you don't want on you."

He was saying the same thing Carlo had said only a few hours ago. Lena didn't like any of this.

The man's voice dropped to a more serious tone, his breath warm against her ear. "You go any further with him, and you're marked. You'll be in the middle of something you can't control. And when the blood starts spilling, you'll wish you had listened."

Lena kept silent for a moment, digesting his words. There were no guarantees in this world, no guarantees that she would survive whatever game she had chosen to play. But she wasn't one to back down, not now. The warnings didn't scare her-they only fueled her determination.

The man pressed the knife into her neck once more. "You don't want to be caught between the dogs, cara. Walk away now, while you still can. Before you're out of options."

Lena swallowed down the frustration welling up in her chest. She wasn't going to show weakness. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her rattled.

After a long pause, she spoke, her tone unwavering. "Message received. If you're done here, leave."

The man didn't move at first, his knife still pressed against her skin. But after a moment, he pulled it back just slightly.

Without another word, he finally backed away, disappearing into the shadows of the garden.

She stood still for a few seconds, her heart still racing from the close encounter. The warning hung in the air, the weight of it pressing down on her shoulders. But she wasn't going to let it control her.

Rafe Moretti might be dangerous. But so was she.

She took a deep breath and retraced her step back to her apartment. Once she was there she locked all the doors and prepared to sleep.

That was until a crash from her hallway startled her out of her bed. She was on her feet and reaching for her pistol and dagger. She held them tightly in each hand and went out to investigate.

She didn't bother to turn on the light but could see her hallway window was shattered. Whoever broke into her house was as stupid as a cow.

She went down the hallway and paused when she saw shadows moving downstairs. She turned on the light-because she needed to see if she was going to kill-and froze.

Standing in her sitting room was Marco, holding a gun that was pointed at her, and a smile on his face. "Hello, beautiful."