Chapter 3

Jace still had my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"You want to get yourself killed? Fine. But you're not taking my family down with you."

He kept his voice low, but I could hear the fear in it.

"A fake Santangelo crest? Saying the Don's name out loud like you know him? Are you trying to get all of us killed?"

His guys, who'd been having the time of their lives a minute ago, went pale.

Everyone in this life knew what happened to people who pretended to be a Santangelo.

They took a one-way trip to the bottom of Lake Michigan inside a barrel full of concrete.

A couple of the jumpier ones even took a step back, staring at me like I had something contagious.

"Damn it, Nina, are you out of your mind? We begged for this job today!" One of them pointed at me, his finger shaking.

"Boss, she's doing this on purpose! She wants the Santangelos to think we're disrespecting them!"

"It's payback! I can't believe she'd pull something this low!"

Jace shoved me away and wiped his hand on his jacket, like touching me had left something on him.

"Crazy bitch."

"Four years out there and you didn't learn a damn thing."

I lifted my head. My jaw throbbed where he'd gripped it, but I just looked at him, calm and still.

I guess he'd never seen me look at him like that, because he froze. Whatever he was about to say died in his throat.

One of the guys, the one Gianna had slipped into Jace's crew to keep an eye on him, saw his chance.

"Boss, don't fall for it. She's just bitter. She wants to blow up your deal with the Ferraros."

"Classic jealous ex. She's miserable, so she wants everybody else to be miserable too."

Jace seemed to like that answer.

Maybe the word jealous made him feel better about himself.

He was quiet for a few seconds. Then he pulled a thick stack of cash out of his jacket and pushed it into my hands, like he was dropping change in a homeless guy's cup.

"Okay. For old times' sake, I'll help you out one last time."

"That's ten grand. Go get a decent hotel downtown, take a shower, buy yourself something nice to wear. Try not to look so desperate."

"I'll talk to Gianna. If you can keep your pride in check, there's a spot for you in the kitchen."

He brushed off his lapel. "Don't worry about the money. I run half the North Side now. This is nothing to me."

I looked at the cash and almost laughed.

Back in Naples, Rafe had given me a card with no limit just for fun money.

Ten grand?

That wouldn't even cover one of the silk scarves he bought me by the dozen without thinking about it.

But Jace thought this was it. The moment I'd fall at his feet crying and thanking him, trading what was left of my pride for a stack of bills.

I yanked my wrist out of the last of his grip.

The cash hit the tarmac. The wind caught the bills and sent them flying across the runway.

"Keep it, Mr. Mancini." My voice was cold.

"I don't take money from strangers. Yours is dirty."