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I gulp. This isn’t good.

A pair of sunglasses slip down her nose, showing off her big, bright, emerald-green eyes.

She sees me staring and tilts her head. A small smile pulls at her ruby lips, and she nods once at Ello. “Mr. Molinaro, a pleasure.”

My guard ducks his head. “Mrs. De Luca, it’s nice to see you.”

“What are you doing here?” She glances at me. “Who’s this?”

“We’re shopping,” he explains. “We were only headed out.”

I realize too late that we’re in De Luca’s territory.

Mrs. De Luca steps closer, peering up at me. I’m taller than she is, even in the spiked monstrosities on her feet, but she’s as intimidating as the Sistine Chapel. I know her father, her husband—who her sister is. She left a body on my porch just days ago.

I don’t doubt she’s as scary as them.

“Valentina?” she whispers.

I nod once.

“I’m Sloane,” she greets, holding out her hand. I hesitate to take it and she laughs. It’s as light as wind chimes in the air. “It’s okay. I’m not Maeve. I don’t bite.”

Carefully, I shake her hand. Her skin is so soft.

“I know your brother.”

I raise a brow. “Roman?”

She scoffs. “Him, against my will. No, Hayes.” She grins beautifully. “He talks about you all the time.”

My throat clogs up, and I blink back tears. “Is he okay?”

Gently, she pats my shoulder. “He’s doing just fine. He’ll be getting married soon. If my sister Collins can ever pick a date.” She rolls her eyes skyward. “I swear, Maeve should’ve forced them to get hitched like she did to me. Things would be much simpler.”

Ello chuckles next to me, covering it with a dry cough.

“Anyway,” she drawls, pulling a card from her small bag. “If you need anything, call me.” The stamped card has a number, but no name. At my confusion, she winks. “You have friends, even if you don’t know it. Thought I should let you know if you need… help.”

With one last parting look, she walks to the back of the store, and Ello pulls me outside. The fresh summer air blows my hair back as we exit, and I trip, crushing the card in my hand.

What was that? She was nice to me. I never expect an enemy to be friendly.

Ello takes the card and slides it into the bag. He taps his lips, then signs, “Tell no one what happened.”

I sign back. “Why did she give me that?”

“There are many moving parts around us,” he explains. “Things that involve other parties. Some good, and some not so good. They all have their eyes on a goal, and if you know too much, you risk everything. For now, you need to remain ignorant of their dealings.”

“Does it include De Luca?”

He gives me a look. “Not now, Valentina.”

“O’Brien—”

“Drop it.” He gives me a stern look; a fatherly firmness that closes my mouth. “Now, let’s go home.”

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