Wrong (Spada Crime Family #2) by Katherine Lace Page A

can think of. Besides, if I shot him in the head, I’d probably face retaliation at the muzzle of someone else’s gun. This way, Sal just loses his credibility and his power in one fell swoop. It’s brilliant, if I do say so myself.
    But Sarah’s face has gone hard and cold, except for her eyes, which are burning laser-like at me. “Fuck. You,” she says in firm, measured tones. “Fuck you for making me think you actually wanted to help me. God. I should have fucking known better.”
    I shrug. “You know it’s tit for tat in this business. You learned that from Sal. You gave him your body to keep him from burning down your bakery; I’m just asking for the same deal, right?”
    Tears are edging her eyes now, and I almost feel guilty.
    “He just wanted to fuck me. You want me to have your goddamn baby.”
    “And he announced your engagement in front of the whole damn organization without so much as a by-your-leave from you. He’s an asshole, Sarah. You know that. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life with him?”
    “No, but I’m not sure I want to spend the rest of my life with you, either.”
    I’m tired of arguing with her. She’ll either come around or she won’t. I’ve said about all I can manage to say to convince her my plan is the best path for her. “It’s your choice. But I’ll tell you this much: I’m not sorry I did what I did. You need to get away from him. If he doesn’t kill you, he’ll at the very least make your life a living hell. I think you know that.”
    Her mouth is tight and firm, her fists clenched. I wait for her to chime in, but she doesn’t.
    “He’s going to destroy your business, Sarah. And he’s going to destroy you. Whether he does it physically, mentally, or emotionally doesn’t matter in the long run. You stay with Sal, you’re going to lose everything . And I don’t mean just the bakery.”
    A tear slides down her cheek. And I have the nerve to call Sal an asshole. “Look.” I use my thumb to wipe the tear from her face, and she flinches back from my touch. “Just stay here tonight. You can stay in the guest room for the rest of the night if you want. Think about it. We can talk later.”
    “I don’t want to talk later,” she mutters angrily. But I can feel her softening a little under my touch. Truth is, no matter how we get there, there’s something between us. She’s going to have a hard time ignoring that, no matter how hard she tries.
    “You can decide that in the morning.” I give her a slight smile and leave her alone in the kitchen.
    #
    I find her in the kitchen again when I come back down for breakfast several hours later. I don’t think she’s been there all night, though; she’s got sheet marks on her face, so she must have spent some time in the guest bedroom, like I suggested.
    “Morning,” I say, probably sounding too cheery.
    She doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t even grunt to acknowledge me. I’m not going to have much time to talk this morning, since I have to get to Phil Spada’s place for our weekly meeting. There’ll be work for me—I’m sure Spada is lining up fights for next month, and I’ll have to get everything on my schedule and make sure I know who’s supposed to win what and who’s supposed to throw what and when.
    “Okay,” I tell Sarah. “I have to get to work. You stay here and think things through. I’ll be back later, and we can hammer out the details.”
    Her eyes flick up, her gaze burning. She’s still angry, but it’s more of a petulant anger, like she’s finally admitted to herself that I know what I’m talking about but doesn’t want to admit it to anyone else. She will, though, in time.
    I head out—I’ll grab breakfast on the way. I figure there’s about a seventy-five percent chance she’ll still be there when I get back. I’m willing to take that risk.
    #
    The meeting’s just getting underway when I get to Spada’s place. I head for Spada’s office, taking my time up the