Twisted Fate by Laura Dunaway

Chapter 1

    Roman wants to see you, now.

    The text came from Rico, Roman’s right-hand man. I squeezed the phone tight in my hand, hating that it was Rico summoning me, not Roman himself. Releasing my grip on it, I stuffed the phone into my jeans pocket and headed to his cabin.

    I rapped my knuckles on his door three times. Hearing a muffled, “Come in,” I twisted the knob and stepped inside, shutting the door behind me. The room was dark, save for a lit candle on his desk. Opera music was playing in the background, making me cringe. As I walked in, I could see his shadow moving to the music, his arm going side to side, as if directing the vocalists.

    “You wanted to see me, sir?” I asked loudly so he’d hear me over the god-awful music.

    He slowly turned around, his head still moving side to side, his hand still directing his invisible orchestra. “Tag, yes,” he said, finally turning the music down to a decent level. “I have a job for you; it’s by far the most important one I’ve given you yet.”

    My ears perked up hearing this, and my heartbeat accelerated. Finally, Roman was recognizing all of my hard work and assigning me a huge job. I hid my excitement, only nodding my head once. “What is it?”

    Roman pulled out the enormous chair behind his desk and sat down, steepling his fingers together over the desk. Since he didn’t invite me to sit, I stayed standing. He opened a drawer and pulled out a small maroon box, setting it on his vast mahogany desk. Opening the lid, he pulled out a Cuban cigar, lighting it quickly. Wrapping his thin lips around it, he took a few short puffs, his lips smacking against the cigar as he did. A minute later, he returned the box to the drawer and finally looked at me.

    “We will have a new guest soon, but she won’t be happy about being here. I’ve decided you are the best man to not only lead the team acquiring her, but to also watch over her while she’s here, to make sure she doesn’t do anything, how shall I put this…out of line.”

    It was like the sound of brakes screeching went off in my head. Kidnapping? Watching over her? What the hell? “How old is this girl?” was all I asked.

    Roman took another puff of his cigar, dropping some ash into his ashtray. His hand started to direct the music again, and suddenly all I wanted to do was drag him out of that oversized chair and demand he tell me. Instead, I waited.

    “She’s not a child, Tag,” he said with a chuckle when he finally diverted his attention back to me. “She’s twenty-one, not that her age should matter to you. This is a job, and I expect you to carry it out to the best of your ability.”

    Damn. In all my years working for this bastard, he’d never once had me kidnap a woman. The idea was repulsive to me. What the hell was he thinking?

    “Who is she?”

    “Penelope Santoro.”

    Holy shit.

    My expression immediately went blank. I had mastered the art of hiding my true feelings with my job. The smallest mistake could mean my death.

    “Raul Santoro’s daughter,” I commented.

    “The one and only,” Roman replied, his eyes shining like a hunter out for his next kill.

    Keeping my cool, I couldn’t resist asking him a question. “With all due respect, sir, is kidnapping the way to go?”

    Roman’s eyes turned to slits, and it was obvious he wasn’t happy with my question. It wasn’t often one of his men questioned his motives, but this was a job I felt he should avoid. I refused to back down and take it back.

    “I’m not a foolish man, Tag,” he hissed. “This is the only way to get what I want. That’s all you need to know.”

    He stared at me as he took another puff, trying to intimidate me. It didn’t work. I knew not to question him more, but he wasn’t going to make me cower. “When do we acquire her?”

    The smile that came over his face was pure evil. “That’s better. She’s ours tomorrow night.”

    Tomorrow night? He had to be shitting me.

    He