Zadie’s POV
The SUV was quiet, but my heart wasn’t. Lazaro sat beside me like nothing just happened, like we didn’t get ambushed in broad daylight, like I didn’t nearly get my head blown off.
His jaw was set, eyes forward, focused like he already knew who sent those bullets and didn’t give a damn.
Kendall, his personal assistant, drove like she’d done this a hundred times. This is my first time meeting her and I think we will never get along. Something annoys me that I want to pull that blonde bitch hair off. She didn’t look back at me once. Until she slipped.
“Is it An-”
“Later,” Lazaro cut her off fast, his tone sharp.
Kendall’s eyes flicked to mine in the rearview. She knew I heard. And now she was watching me closer. I kept my face blank, not too curious, not too distant. Just enough to keep playing the role.
We pulled into an underground garage. Blacked-out cameras, reinforced doors. No signs, and no guards. He stepped out, didn’t wait, didn’t ask if I was okay. Just walked, and I followed.
The lounge upstairs was low-lit, expensive, and empty. One glass wall faced the city skyline. Lazaro poured two glasses of water, handed one to me without a word. I took it with steady hands even if my insides were screaming.
“You’ve had a day,” he said, finally.
“I have,” I answered, taking a sip. I eyed him discreetly as he walked towards a hallway, from then on I heard their voices. “What are you doing with her?” It was Kendall.
“She’s no threat,” Lazaro replied.
“I don’t trust her.”
“I know. Go home. Find out who did this.” Moments later, I hear her leave. I acted like I wasn’t listening and just drank the water, sat still, and played Marina. But my ears were ringing. Lazaro returned and sat across me, then stared for a second too long. I stayed cool. This was part of the job. Stick to the cover. Don’t fold.
“Keep this between us,” he said.
“It’s not my story to tell, sir,” I answered, calm and polite.
“Good. I hate traitors.” He didn’t say it out loud. Didn’t say it with emotion. Just a cold, final line that settled into the space between us and made the air feel heavier.
I didn’t flinch, but something twisted in my chest. I knew what men like him did to traitors, and he didn’t look like the kind of guy who forgave shit. He leaned back, still watching me. Like he was waiting for something else to slip. Like he already knew something was off.
I needed a reason to stay, he could’ve sent me home by now. Most bosses would. But this wasn’t most jobs. This was a shot, maybe the only one I’d get this close to him.
“If it’s alright,” I said, voice steady, “I’d like to stay a little longer. Help out. Maybe cook you something. I know the kitchen here is stocked.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You cook?”
“Well enough,” I said. “I figured it’s the least I can do, after today.”
He didn’t answer right away. Just studied me again, weighing every word I said like it might be a lie. Which, of course, it was. “Alright,” he said eventually. “One hour.”
I nodded. “I’ll make something simple.”
“You stay focused like this with everyone?” he asked, not smiling.
“Only when they get shot at with me.” He didn’t respond, but he didn’t ask more questions either.
That was enough. This was it. I was in. Now I can slowly know this Mafia’s secret.