“Miss–?”
“Spencer. Riley Spencer, sir,” Riley replied.
The man held out his hand, and she did the same.
“I wanted to apologize for, you know? What happened before,” she said.
“Don’t have to. Paige explained everything to me. I know why you did it, and though I don’t approve of it, at least I know it was for a good reason.” Mr. Eaton released her hand. “Now, I expect you won’t do it again. We have people who can deal with that kind of problem. You only need to worry about serving the drinks.”
“And she will do it perfectly well, right, Riley?” Paige interjected.
“Yes, of course,” Riley nodded.
“Paige will give you the details on how things go around here.”
“I was doing just that, Dad. And guess what? Riley has tons of experience at waitressing. Told you hiring her was the right choice, not to mention since she’s around I can focus on nursing school more, just like you wanted.”
“I hope you’re right,” Mr. Eaton said, eyeing Riley one more time before he left.
“He doesn’t like me,” Riley whispered to Paige.
“He doesn’t know you.”
“Neither do you.”
Paige shrugged. “I know that someone who stands up against the worst people in town can’t be a bad person.”
Riley had barely crossed the threshold into the house when Lydia began questioning her.
“What are you doing back so early?”
“Well, good day to you too.”
“So, how was work? Did you fight with anyone else?”
Riley smirked. “Nope, but that doesn’t mean I’m not in a mood for a fight.” She walked slowly toward Lydia as she spoke, who took two steps backward, as if she were afraid Riley would do something against her. Riley giggled, amused at her reaction. “Are you scared?”
“Of you? Never.”
“Seems to me like you’re terrified. Didn’t you say you were ready if I wanted to fight? Because, you know, sis, I’m always prepared.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Threatening? No, of course not. I just wanted to give you a little heads-up, in case you wanted to go all old-school Lydia on me. You know, like when we were kids and you liked to beat the crap outta me.”
“I’m prepared, just so you know. I’m just as much of a fighter as you’ll ever be.” Lydia held her gaze before pushing past her. “But since you so kindly provided a heads-up, let me do the same for you: sleep with one eye open. You don’t know when the new-and-improved Lydia might show up.”
Riley wondered if Lydia’s threats were meaningless, or if perhaps her sister was indeed capable of attacking her in the middle of the night. Either way, she was going to sleep with both eyes open.
After Santino died, when Riley was alone in their bed, the struggle to fall into a peaceful sleep was brutal. Each time she closed her eyes, the images of her husband’s death haunted her, the images of his lifeless body, the feeling of his still-warm hands. She told only one person, her best friend, Mickey. He said it was the heartache, but she believed it was also the fear—the fear that someone would show up on her doorstep and finish the job. Revenge, after all, sometimes ruled the world.
Eventually, the fear had disappeared when she decided to take matters into her own hands. It meant getting her hands bloody and turning into a fugitive, but it was worth it.
Now, with Lydia’s words in mind, Riley made another decision: sleep protected, like Mickey had taught her. Just to be safe, just to be sure.
The door of her old room made a creepy, loud noise when opened slowly, like a sound from a horror movie—distinctive and ominous. No one could enter by surprise, especially not on Riley, who was always on guard. It was one of the many things she had learned while living with a mob boss: be always alert.
The sound woke her up from her slumber, but she refused to turn around until whoever had walked in was at close range. Carefully and slowly, she moved her hand underneath her pillow, until she felt the metal between her fingers.
Riley’s movement was quick. The gun was placed strategically against the intruder’s chest, trigger ready to be pressed. She had stopped just in time to stare at her sister’s face.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Riley shouted.
Lydia lowered her hands, looked at her with fear in her eyes and stepped backwards. “You, you could have shot me,” Lydia breathed out.
“You haven’t answered my question. What the fuck are you doing sneaking into my room in the middle of the night?”
Lydia was speechless, her eyes still glued to the gun Riley held tight in her hands and that was now at her side. “I, I was checking everything was okay,” Lydia whispered.
“I’m supposed to believe that bullshit? You were here to do something to me. Don’t fucking lie!” Riley shouted.
“And you pointed a gun at me; you were about to shoot me, in my house!” Lydia argued.
Riley stepped closer toward her, the gun so firmly in her hand that her knuckles had turned white. “You walked into my room, unannounced, uninvited, in the middle of the fucking night, and you thought I wasn’t going to defend myself?” Riley said.
“What is wrong with you?–”
“Get the fuck out of my room, now!”
Lydia remained frozen on her spot.
“Get out!” Riley repeated.
Lydia ran, closing the door behind her with so much force Riley could have sworn the wall trembled.
Chapter Four
Lydia hated the boisterous police department. It reeked of alcohol and was the last place she would ordinarily visit.
She passed a few officers along the way who barely noticed her presence. The disguise she had chosen—sunglasses and a baseball cap—seemed absurdly simple, but no one noticed when she disappeared at the end of the hall.
Just a few more steps and she would reach Adrian Castelló’s secluded office.
She knocked on the door once—the secret password to signal her arrival.
Almost instantly a man opened the door and Lydia hurried inside. He was in his mid-thirties, with short brown hair and
