Chapter Eighteen
Savannah put down the last two crates filled with soda bottles, turned off the light in the repository and shut the doors, locking them. It was already after midnight and she was getting ready to leave. She was tired and Kate probably was, too, after the whole afternoon and evening she’d had to babysit Aiden.
Going through the hall, she heard shuffling coming from the main area where Hunter was taking care of the cash register, counting the turnover as usual. However, this time it wasn't just him she heard. There was someone else and at the thought that it might be the Russian she shivered. Looking back, she wondered whether to go into her boss' office and give them time alone. She'd already interfered enough. Quite frankly, it was surprising that after a few days no one had showed up from the Las Vegas Famiglia to dish out the punishment.
At the same time, she was glad. No matter what, she was not the girl to get involved in such cruelty. She knew what Hunter had done was wrong on so many levels, bringing danger upon not only him but also his employees and family. But the mere thought of him getting killed was making her panic.
She felt guilty.
She was guilty.
And now, if there, in fact, was a member of Bratva, he was going against the Famiglia again.
Her heart started pounding. She didn't know what to do. Her choices were extremely limited, however, she knew that whether she listened in on them or not, if the men caught her there, it would be bad.
So with a tight pressure in her chest, she moved towards the exit to the main dining area. A bright light blinded her for a seconds before she could get used to it. Once she did, her expression changed. Although she should’ve been glad that she didn't have to face the Russian who terrified her to the very core, seeing Elio Conte in one of the booths, watching Hunter close all windows and slide the black metal curtains was even worse.
He was forcing him to prepare the place for his own death. And he complied. Probably hoping for mercy. Something that a single look at Elio should have ruled out. He was excited and didn't even try to cover it up. If that wasn't the most fucked up thing, Savannah didn't know what was.
A soft whimper escaped her lips, bringing the Enforcer's attention to her. Immediately, he regarded her with fascination before gesturing for her to come closer. Her brain wanted to object yet her feet moved of their own accord despite the intense feeling that something bad was about to happen.
Worse than Elio beating Hunter before.
Much worse.
Elio's green eyes were more ferocious than a tiger’s. A thin paper cigarette hung from his bottom lip, a small trail of smoke escaping from the corner of his mouth dancing its way to the ceiling. In one hand a gun lied loosely, adding to the worry coiling in her stomach. His eyebrow raised in amusement at her reaction; nothing, not a flinch, not a single damn thing.
Whatever fear there was within her, she refused to let it show.
Stopping a few feet from him, she glanced at her boss once more. He was shaking and close to crying. No one had touched him, Elio wasn't even interested in him at that very moment, but he knew what was coming.
"Why am I not surprised that you're still here?" he asked rhetorically. Yet Savannah felt the need to say something to that. Letting Elio believe that her putting additional time into her job wasn't wise. It could only bring additional suffering to Hunter if the Enforcer was to think that it was his doing.
She shook her head slightly. "It just took more time to clean up after closing."
Elio didn't seem to believe the words but didn't comment. He pointed to the empty spot on the other side of the table. "Sit, Savannah."
Nothing. She was standing paralyzed. The man wasn't annoyed by her presence. And he sure as hell wasn't sending her home like last time.
"I'm not going to repeat myself, baby girl. If you refuse me, there will be hell to pay," he hissed. "Sit down."
She complied. Right now she wasn't even certain if her legs wouldn’t give in under her, anyway. The order was loud and clear. The tone of his voice dangerous. Terrifying.
Savannah took a seat, digging her nails in the leather material, trying keep at bay the looming panic attack. Her lips pursed as she turned her head towards the already closed windows. No one would be able to see anything that was happening inside.
That had probably been Elio’s intention from the start.
Elio sighed and got up. "Take the chair from the corner and, you too, sit down, Hunter."
Unlike Savannah, her boss obeyed at once while Elio closed the doors to the diner and rolled down the curtain himself. He then turned on the light under the cabinet by the counter and turned off the one on the ceiling. Everything went darker and an irresistible feeling that she wasn't going to leave this place settled in.
She curled her legs under the seat, hugging it as tightly as possible.
The mafioso walked up to Hunter, took his own chair and sat in front of him. The back of it pressed to his chest, his legs on both sides. The gun was still in his palm, however, his finger now rested on the trigger. He didn't squeeze yet, but surely believed that there might come a point when he’d have to do it.
"It's come to my attention that you have been in contact with the wrong people, Hunter," he said, smirking. Then he took the cigarette in between his fingers and blew the smoke in
