20

Chapter 20
Arin
“Amazing! Beautiful! Gorgeous!”
I’m pretty sure I’m in love with Miriam, and we’re only two drinks into our casual meeting. She continues to browse through the pictures in my phone, zooming in to admire all the small details of my work. I can tell she has an eye for fashion because she pays attention to things regular folks wouldn’t even know to look for.
“Your stitch work is wonderful,” she compliments. “And look at this intricate beading!”
“Oh, stop,” I say, blushing profusely. “You’re too kind.”
“You know, I can think of a couple of A-listers who’d absolutely love your work.” Miriam smiles at me. “I want to take you on as a client.”
A thrill shoots through me. “Are you serious?”
“You’ve got talent, Arin. And I really like what your brand is all about. Sustainability, inclusivity, confidence… And to think you’re doing all this while being a single mom? It’s inspiring. I can definitely use that to market you to the masses. Everybody loves an underdog.”
“Thank you so much,” I say softly. I can barely sit still. It’s not every day that my work is praised like this. The fact that it’s all coming from an industry professional is the cherry on top.
“So, what do you say?” Miriam asks me. “I can forward you all the paperwork later tonight, if you’re interested.”
“I’m definitely interested. Absolutely, yes!”
“Wonderful.” She takes a sip of her cocktail before reaching into her purse to pull out her own phone. “Now, I really like that you want to launch during fashion week, but have you thought about where you want your venue to be? Do you have a guest list in mind? The sooner we send out invitations, the better. Oh, and we’re also going to have to host a casting session to find models for the catwalk. Do you have a list of make-up and hair stylists you
want to work with? I’ll have to reach out to the press, too. The more photographers we have at the event, the higher the chances you’ll be featured in upcoming magazine spreads.”
My head spins. “God, that’s so much to think about. I’ve been so focused on making the clothes that I haven’t given it much thought.”
Miriam chuckles lightly. “That’s okay. We’ve got plenty of time. And now that I’m your agent, I’ll take care of most of the heavy lifting.”
I breathe a little easier. “Thank you, Miriam. Seriously. This has been a dream of mine since I was a little girl.” I smile down at my drink. “I really want to make my daughter proud. I’ve always had this silly dream of bringing her into a big store on Fifth Avenue and telling her Mommy owns that.”
“Then let’s make it happen,” Miriam says with a big smile. She clinks her glass against mine. “To our partnership and your guaranteed success.”
“Cheers to that.”
Miriam checks her phone. “Oh, I have to go. I’ve got to run a few things by my clients at Gucci. I’ll forward you those documents to sign, okay? Give it a look over and let me know if you have any questions.”
“Will do.”
She gives me a friendly hug before leaving, tossing a quick wave over her shoulder as she steps out of the bar.
I settle into my seat, smiling like a madwoman. My skin is buzzing, and it isn’t even because of the white wine I’ve been sipping. I can’t believe I’m working with a woman who works with people at Gucci. I’m really playing in the big leagues now.
I quickly glance at the time on my phone. It’s almost three, which means I have to pick Felicia up from daycare very soon. Looking around, I try to find Elio so I can flag him down. He told me he’d grab a spot by the bar, but I don’t see him anywhere. Maybe he went to the bathroom or something?
Five minutes pass. Elio doesn’t return. I’m starting to think he might have left, but that doesn’t make sense. As ridiculous as I thought it was, he seemed pretty committed to his role as my bodyguard.
I slip out of my seat and wander over to the bar, catching the bartender’s attention.
“How can I help you, miss?”
“Um, the man who was sitting here… Dirty blonde in the black suit? Do you happen to know where he went? He’s kind of my ride.”
The bartender shrugs. “I’m pretty sure he left twenty minutes ago.”
I frown. Something isn’t adding up. Dominic gave him orders to escort me everywhere. He wouldn’t just leave me here.
“Oh, well,” I mumble. “Would you mind telling me where the nearest station is?”
“Sure, it’s—” “Marina!”
I turn just in time to see Dominic barreling in through the front doors. His hair is a windswept mess, his chest rising and falling quickly with labored breaths.
“Dom? What happened? Did you… run here?”
It takes him seven long strides to close the distance between us. He takes my hand and pulls me toward him, wrapping a protective arm around my waist.
“Where’s Elio?” he pants.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I was in the middle of my meeting, so I wasn’t paying too much attention. The bartender said he left a little while ago.”
“He left you alone?” Dominic’s nostrils flare. He sounds downright furious.
“I’m sure it was a misunderstanding—”
He throws a cautious look over his shoulder, glaring at everyone who dares to make eye contact. His body is rigid, hard as stone and just as immovable.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “You’re freaking me out.” “We’re leaving. Now.”
“Actually, you’re not going anywhere,” the bartender says gruffly.
My heart twists in my chest when I feel the press of cold, hard metal against my exposed throat. I don’t have time to register being yanked from Dominic’s arms. The bartender grips my hair painfully, knife biting into my skin. In a flash, several of the bar’s patrons make their move, ganging up on Dominic like an army of ants taking down a threat three times their size. They swarm him, pinning him to the bar floor.
“Dominic,” I plead, voice breaking. “Dominic, what’s going on?” “Quiet,” the bartender hisses in my ear. “Do as we say, and nobody gets
hurt, alright?”
“Let her go!” Dominic roars, fighting his captors. They have his arms twisted behind his back, two of the men kneeling on the backs of his calves to
pin him in place.
“Signor Renato would like a word with you,” the bartender continues. “If you resist, I’ll be forced to kill you just like I did your man.”
I gasp, trembling so hard I think my legs might give out. “What did you do to Elio?”
“Nothing much. Slipped a little something into his drink before dragging him out back. The idiot put up a good fight, I’ll give him that much. I wouldn’t have slit his throat if he’d cooperated.”
I sob, terror shredding through me. “Elio’s dead?”
“You bastard!” Dominic shouts. “You’re going to pay for this. For all of
it!”
“Our capo just wants to talk, Signor Costello. All I ask for is your
compliance. I’d rather not kill this woman.”
I’m so consumed with fear that my brain blanks. My body is numb. Right now, pain is the least of my worries. I don’t know what’s going on, but there’s no way I’m going to forgive these people for what they’ve done. Killing Elio, hurting Dominic…
I’ve reached my limit.
Tapping into a rage I didn’t know I was capable of, I move quickly, driving my elbow back into the man’s gut. He reels back, wincing in pain. I use this brief window of distraction to pry the knife out of his hand, mercilessly driving my knee into his groin. No matter how helpless I feel, I refuse to give up without a fight. If I do nothing, this man might hurt me or worse. So, I might as well give him everything I’ve got.
Behind me, Dominic releases a mighty bellow. With power I didn’t think possible to possess, he throws his enemies to the ground with haymaker kicks and punches. We act so suddenly, so brazenly, that none of our foes realize what’s going on before we’re racing out the door.
“After them!” someone shouts.
Dominic holds my hand tight as we run together, escaping into the busy New York Streets.
“What about Elio?” I ask frantically. “We can’t just leave him there. We have to make sure he’s okay!”
I receive no response as we keep on running. We run until my lungs are on fire and my legs start to cramp, but we don’t stop until we’re officially out of SoHo and in the middle of the West Village.
The coast is clear.
For now.
Dominic reaches for his phone and dials a number. “Come on, Johnny. Pick up, pick up, pick up.” I take it as a bad sign when he pulls the device away with a sneer.
I study his back, a dark wet patch seeping through his jacket. I dare to reach out, carefully grazing my fingers over his shoulder. There’s a sticky lump lodged in the back of my throat. When my fingertips come away soaked in red, I know without a shadow of a doubt that his stitches have popped.
“You need to tell me what’s going on, Dominic,” I demand. “Who are these people who keep attacking us? Did that man really kill Elio?”
Dominic turns, his anger apparent in the tightness of his shoulders and the hard line of his lips. “What the hell were you thinking? Why would you go there?”
“I had a meeting with Miriam. She wanted to get drinks and talk business.”
“And Elio didn’t stop you?” “Why would he?”
Dominic grits his teeth. “Nothing.”
“No,” I snap. “Not nothing. Don’t you dare say it’s nothing. This is officially the second time in as many days that someone’s attempted to kill me. You owe me an explanation.”
“I can’t tell you, Arin.”
“Fuck your code!” I exclaim. “I don’t give a damn if you’re some bigshot Mafia man—”
“Jesus Christ, lower your voice.”
“Like hell I will! You dragged me into this mess. I refuse to be kept in the dark. If you don’t start telling me what the hell’s going on, I’m leaving with my daughter and never coming back.”
Dominic’s face falls at this, his discomfort palpable. He’s silent for a long time before he finally says, “Fine. I’ll tell you. But not here. Let’s pick up Felicia and take you both home.”
“And then you’ll tell me everything?”
He nods, though he looks pained. “Everything.”