A Mafia Boss Ignored Every Beautiful Woman At His Gala — Then Chose The Woman Who Had Enough Evidence To Send Him To Prison.

PART 2

“The same way you know mine.”

“Your name appears in newspapers.”

“Not in the sections you read.”

“I read the financial section.”

A hint of amusement appeared in his eyes. “Of course you do.”

Behind him stood a broad-shouldered man with a scar along his jaw. Emma recognized him from police photographs as Damian’s second-in-command, Mateo Cruz. Mateo watched her as if deciding whether she was dangerous.

Emma almost laughed at the absurdity. She owned three cardigans, drove an eight-year-old sedan, and spent Sunday mornings doing her mother’s grocery shopping. The most dangerous object in her apartment was a treadmill she occasionally tripped over.

But the drive in her purse could collapse an empire.

Damian looked at the folder.

“You found South Shore Hospitality.”

Emma’s mouth went dry.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You found the duplicate invoices, the false vendor addresses, and the transfers into Calder Freight.”

She forced herself not to look toward her purse.

“You’ve been monitoring my computer.”

“I monitor threats.”

“I’m an accountant.”

“Tonight, those are the same thing.”

His answer chilled her more than an open threat would have. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t defensive. He was simply stating a fact, as if the world operated on rules she had never been taught.

Emma glanced at the crowd. Hundreds of people were watching, but no one would intervene. Some were afraid of Damian. Others owed him money. A few probably owed him their careers.

“Are you going to kill me in front of all these witnesses?” she asked.

A murmur passed through the guests. Mateo’s expression changed slightly, as though no one had ever asked Damian that question so directly.

Damian leaned closer. The scent of cedar and winter air surrounded her.

“If I intended to kill you, Miss Hayes, you would not have seen me coming.”

“Comforting.”

“I came because the person who told me about your audit also sold the information to someone else.”

Emma’s fear sharpened. “Who?”

Valerie approached them, laughing nervously. “Mr. Moretti, perhaps Miss Hayes can return to her work. Isabella has been asking for you all evening.”

Damian turned his head. A single look silenced Valerie.

He faced Emma again and extended his arm.

“You’re coming with me.”

“No.”

The word came out before Emma could consider the consequences.

Someone dropped a champagne glass. It shattered near the dance floor, and still no one moved.

Damian’s gaze became colder. “No?”

“I’m working. I don’t drink with subjects of an active financial review.”

“You think this is an invitation?”

“I think you’re accustomed to people obeying because they’re frightened.”

“They usually have good instincts.”

“I’m frightened,” Emma admitted. “I’m simply not obedient.”

Mateo lowered his eyes to hide what might have been a smile.

Damian stepped closer, surrounding her with the scent of cedar, winter air, and expensive tobacco.

“You have two choices,” he said. “You can sit beside me, where my men can keep you alive, or you can remain beside a kitchen door while the people who purchased your name decide how to remove you.”

“You expect me to believe you want to protect me?”

“No. I expect you to be intelligent enough to protect yourself.”

Emma searched his face. She saw arrogance and danger. She also saw something that did not fit the legend surrounding him. Urgency. Damian was not only concerned about the ledger. He was concerned about her.

Emma lowered the folder.

“If I come with you, you answer my questions.”

“I’ll answer the ones that won’t get us both killed.”

“That is not reassuring.”

“It wasn’t intended to be.”

She did not take his arm. She walked beside him on her own.

Damian noticed. So did everyone else.

As they crossed the ballroom, the models watched in open disbelief. Isabella, the woman who had called Damian’s name, stared at Emma’s body with undisguised contempt. Emma kept her head high. For once, she refused to apologize for the space she occupied.

Damian led her to a raised booth in the rear of the ballroom. Instead of directing her toward the side, he pulled out the chair beside his own.

“You put me between you and the exit,” Emma observed.

“I put you between me and Mateo.”

Mateo stood behind them. “She’s safer there.”

“Why?”

“Because anyone shooting at the boss has to get through me first.”

Emma looked at Damian. “That happens often?”

“Less often than people claim.”

“More often than normal people experience?”

“Considerably.”

A server placed champagne on the table. Emma did not touch it.

Damian sat close enough that she felt the heat from his shoulder.

“Where is the audit file?” he asked.

“Somewhere you cannot reach.”

“Everything can be reached.”

“Not without consequences.”

His eyes rested on her face. They were almost black, but not empty. There was intelligence behind them, controlled and relentless.

“You aren’t what I expected,” he said.

“What did you expect?”