“That’s the plan.” Davit was far more intelligent than most people gave him credit for. Not Serendipity. She was fully aware, which was why she hadn’t ever considered escaping.
Until now.
“Why are you telling me this?” Nina asked.
“Let’s just say you inspire me.”
Nina cocked an eyebrow.
Serendipity sighed. “I want out. I’m sick of fucking Davit, sick of helping with all his petty little plans. I want to get the hell away from his entire family.”
She shuddered. She could tell Nina noticed, but the other woman did not ask questions. Good, because Serendipity wasn’t about to answer them. Her goodwill only went so far. And telling a former Italian mafia princess about her long and complicated relationship with the Armenian mob was way too far.
“You escaped,” Serendipity continued. “You were stupid to come back, but the point is, you escaped in the first place. I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time, but I was afraid. And then I met you, and once we figured out who you were, I kept thinking, if a six-year-old kid can do it, why can’t I?”
“You’re the queen of combined insults and compliments, you know that?”
Serendipity pretended to inspect her nails. And waited.
It didn’t take long for Nina to realize she was trapped. She, too, was a smart one, although returning to Detroit seventeen years after she escaped the first time really was reckless as hell.
Gritting her teeth, Nina said, “What do I have to do?”
“That’s a good girl,” Serendipity said with a smile she knew did not reach her eyes. She hadn’t smiled genuinely in years. Probably a decade. Certainly not since she became intimately tied to the Grigoryan family.
An elderly woman shuffled over to a nearby sink. A young lady clutching the hand of a child with a pained look on his face, grasping his own groin, rushed straight for the nearest stall.
Serendipity lowered her voice and leaned closer to Nina, who she could tell was holding her breath.
“When you walk out of here, there is an exit almost immediately to your left. You need to get yourselves lost in a crowd and get out of this airport. Hail a cab or go down to the shuttles or whatever you need to do, but you need to leave this airport. If I were you, I would not fly to wherever you came from. You need to drive, and not a rental car in your own name. I’m sure Luca is planning to go with you.”
Nina gasped and her eyes widened. Did she really have no idea how hard the man had fallen for her? Serendipity had known that first night Nina had walked into the strip club. Luca had zoned in on her as if she wore a homing device.
“Anyway, get out of Detroit in a way that leaves no trail. Electronic or paper. No way to track you. And this time, stay the hell away. For good.”
“What about you?” Nina asked, taking Serendipity by surprise. Everyone insisted they loved her, from her parents to the Grigoryan patriarch down to Davit, but Serendipity knew better.
No one could love her. They could only ever control her, use her for their own gain. All they actually cared about was themselves.
“I’ve survived this long. I know how to take care of myself.”
Nina reached out and squeezed Serendipity’s bicep. “Thank you.”
Serendipity turned away from the mirror, breaking eye contact. “Just go. Hurry up. I’m ready to get the hell out of here too.”
She listened to her own heart, beating like a drum, for several long seconds, then Nina abruptly fled. Serendipity looked into the mirror and pulled up her scarf, securing it around her hair and ensuring not a single strand could be seen. She placed the glasses back onto her face, sucked in another fortifying breath, and left the restroom.
Calm. Cool. Collected.
Ready to start her life over.
Mob free.
Chapter Two
One Year Later
Her latest client walked her to the door of his hotel room and paused to tuck an extra cash tip into the cleavage spilling out of her severely low-cut dress.
“Thank you, Star. That was probably the best time I’ve ever had in my life. I’m in Chicago at least once a month for business. Can I reach out again next time I’m here?”
Shannon Williams kept her smile schooled, refusing to let her lips curl into a smirk. God, she hated the name Star. It was worse even than Serendipity, but her fear of anyone discovering who she really was overrode that dislike. Besides, Star was the perfect name for a stripper-turned-escort.
“I’d like that,” she assured the man, which he probably thought meant she’d had a good time too. All she saw were dollar signs. Shannon, long before she’d become Serendipity and then Star, had become an expert at faking it.
He held open the door and she stepped out into the hall, where he thanked her again, profusely.
How considerate.
Financially, being an escort was certainly a step up from stripping, although in truth, it had never occurred to her that she’d excel at either profession. Once upon a time, she had been a socialite, living in the lap of luxury. She had expected to marry well, and if she so desired, never work a day in her life.
That was before the Grigoryans took control of her life. Before Davit claimed her as his lover and then his pawn.
He’d wanted to take over Luca Russo’s strip club. So he put her on the inside to feed him information, to help him figure out a way to get his hands on the club despite it being the Italian mafia’s favorite hangout. Or, more likely, because of that.
Davit had a long history of taking things simply because they belonged to someone else.
Shannon herself was a perfect example.
She shook
