Chapter 4

Leon had told me to be ready at ten in the morning.

Afraid I'd miss him, I had my mother wheel me out to the alley entrance just after half past nine.

By noon, he still hadn't come.

I even worked up the nerve to call him twice. Both times, he hung up.

My mother tried several times to take me back inside.

I gripped the wheels and refused to move.

That one trip outside had drained every bit of strength from my failing body.

Next time, I might be too weak ever to get out of bed again.

Finally, at one in the afternoon, Leon arrived.

My mother was furious. She only kept from drawing her gun because I'd threatened to kill myself if she did.

As soon as my mother lifted me into the SUV's back seat, Sofia turned with a smug smile. "Sorry, Elena. Leon kept me up so late last night I couldn't get out of bed this morning. I hope you weren't waiting long."

I clenched my hand beneath my trench coat.

From the driver's seat, Leon glanced coldly at me in the rearview mirror, then turned to Sofia and said flatly, "Why waste your breath on her?"

A dull, bitter ache rose in my chest.

I pretended I hadn't heard. I rolled down the window and waved to my mother, who stood outside looking worried.

Leon floored it.

He drove so fast that every bump turned my stomach. Blood rose in my throat along with the nausea.

I clenched my jaw and swallowed it down.

It brought back memories of five years ago.

Back then, Leon knew how frail I was and how easily I got carsick. Even with bullets flying behind us, he'd kept the ride smooth and steady.

I used to get sick in anyone else's car.

Only in Leon's passenger seat had I felt fine.

I was still lost in the memory when Leon slammed on the brakes without warning.

My weak body pitched forward into the hard back of the front seat, and pain shot through me.

I couldn't hold back a groan.

Leon's cold laugh filled the car.

I quietly wiped away the tears the pain had squeezed out of me.

"Don Moretti, your first priority should be Sofia. She's your future Donna."

Leon gave another sneering laugh.

"You're right. I should take care of my own."

The words were barely out of his mouth when he floored it again.

My back hit the seat so hard I thought my bones would break.

Yet through the pain, I felt myself smile.

It was good that he hated me so much.

At least in my final days, traitor or not, I still had a place in his heart.

At last, the SUV stopped outside a Moretti family hotel.

Leon opened the door and, forcing down his disgust, lifted me out.

For those few seconds, the familiar smell of tobacco on him almost made me cry.

The moment he'd dumped me into the wheelchair, he had Sofia hand him disinfectant wipes and scrubbed the hands that had held me.

Standing beside him, Sofia explained with condescending pity.

"I'm sorry, Elena. Leon's a germaphobe. He can't stand it when any woman but me touches him."

I lowered my head and stared at my numb legs.

I pretended I hadn't seen how repulsed he was or heard Sofia gloating.