Little Bird (Advantage Play Series Book 3)

by Kelsie Rae

“Fuck off,” I growl.

  He doesn’t release me. “Look, man. I’m rooting for you guys, okay? Seriously, I am. But I also know that Kingston will put you in the ground if you disobey his orders, especially when I’m pretty sure it’s just a test to confirm where your loyalties lie.” His mouth forms a thin line before he continues. “Just…be patient. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Be patient for what?” I sneer. “No matter how much time or sacrifices I put in under the Romano name, I’ll never be good enough for Kingston’s baby sister.”

  With a grin, he answers, “You’re right. You won’t. But Kingston is a generous bastard and might take pity on you, anyway, if you keep your head down and do what you’re told. Besides”—he loses his smile—“if you slip up, and Kingston is forced to exact retribution on your ass, who do you think it’s going to hurt most?”

  The answer is simple, but I can’t voice it aloud.

  After seeing me come to the conclusion that Regina would be caught in the crosshairs, he raises his chin and confirms, “Exactly. The gathering is tomorrow. Are you ready for that?”

  “For what, exactly? The only parties Burlone ever held were basically orgies with a side of prostitution.”

  Letting go of my arm, he explains, “Sometimes they feel more like a speed dating event than anything else. You’re going to be fresh meat down there. And so is Regina.”

  “She’s really going?” He’d mentioned it before, but I hadn’t pieced together that men will swarm her the same way Stefan is positive women will swarm me.

  He nods. “Yeah. Kingston is trying to patch things up with her by granting her some freedom where he actually has some control over the situation and everyone it involves. It’s his own proverbial olive branch, but I think you should be warned that things might get….” His voice trails off, and I find myself anxious to hear him finish his sentence.

  “Might get…what?” I bite out.

  “For lack of a better word, I’m going to go with interesting. No one has seen her since her mom died over a decade ago. I won’t be surprised if people start pulling out their phones and snapping pictures like she’s Big Foot or something. As far as I know, Kingston has backed off on the whole betrothal thing, but that doesn’t mean that every single available man in the room won’t be attempting to mark her as theirs. Do you think you can witness that without intervening?”

  Though I keep my expression blank, he can still feel the heated energy rolling off me as I imagine witnessing a bunch of vultures swarm my Little Bird.

  “Just…be ready,” Stefan advises. “And don’t lose your head or you might literally lose your head. Understand?”

  I keep my mouth shut because I can’t guarantee shit right now.

  Taking my silence as confirmation, he adds, “Good. Now, go get some sleep. We had a long day.”

  I sleep like shit. My legs get tangled in the navy blue covers as I toss and turn. All the while, my mind runs on repeat, contemplating my life and how everything got so screwed up. I always assumed all my issues stemmed from working for the bad guys. My mouth quirks up in amusement.

  Yeah, like the Romanos are a bunch of saints.

  Fed up, I rip the sheets away from me, then head upstairs in a pair of basketball shorts and nothing else. I feel like this night will never end. The smell of coffee tickles my nostrils as I round the corner to the kitchen. Digging my heels into the dark wood floors beneath me, I stop short when I recognize the culprit behind the warm caffeine’s aroma wafting through the air.

  “Oh,” I grumble before turning on my heel.

  “Wait!” Ace calls out when she sees me.

  Positive I’ve heard her wrong, yet unable to help myself, I freeze.

  “I just made some coffee,” she murmurs behind me. “Do you want some?”

  With my heart pounding against my ribcage, my feet move on their own until I find myself facing her again. In a dark kitchen. While everyone else is sound asleep.

  The irony isn’t lost on me, and I almost drown in the tsunami of regret when it hits me square in the chest.

  “Uh…sure,” I mutter, feeling awkward as hell.

  After giving me a kind smile, she stands on her tiptoes and reaches for a second mug before pouring coffee into it. When I notice her splash a bit onto the counter, I realize she’s shaking. And it’s all because of me.

  Shit.

  I can feel her anxiety rolling off her in waves, though she does her best to hide it.

  “Hey, uh…Ace?”

  “Mmmhmm?” she hums, but she doesn’t look over at me. Her attention is glued to the swirling granite countertop.

  “Can you wait here for just a second?”

  Bringing her cup to her lips, she swallows a big gulp of coffee before nodding, though she refuses to look me in the eye.

  I take the stairs two at a time down to my room then rummage through a duffle bag I’d tossed into the corner. When I find what I’d been looking for, I race back up to the kitchen, shocked to see that Ace actually listened to my request and stuck around for a minute.

  In an effort not to startle her, I keep my movements slow and deliberate. Placing a wrinkled cashier’s check next to her cup, I make sure not to set it in the spilled coffee from when she’d attempted to pour me some.

  “What’s this?” she asks, her voice almost squeaking in surprise when she realizes what it is. Her hands remain tight on her cup like she’s afraid to reach out and touch it.

  “It’s your winnings from the tournament,” I answer her.

  “But—”

  “You earned it.”

  Licking her lips, she peeks up at me through her thick, dark lashes before finding the courage to set down her cup and touch the worn piece of paper that she sacrificed everything for. Ace drags her trimmed fingernail along the amount typed onto the check, her coffee seemingly forgotten as she inspects it closely.

  “Umm….” She releases a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

  Scratching the scruff along my jaw, I search for my own courage to finally voice an apology that’s been brewing inside of me since the moment Burlone gave me my orders to beat the shit out of her.

  “Hey, Ace?”

  She looks up at me. “Yeah?”

  “I’m uh….” I rock back on my heels. “I’m sorry for what I did.”

  She forces a tight smile onto her face before shrugging one shoulder. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine,” I argue, hating myself a little more that she would even consider using fine as a way to describe what I did to her. “Ace, listen to me. I was a coward for not standing up to Burlone like I should’ve. I’ve done a lot of shitty things in my life, but hurting you was hands down one of the most despicable out of all of them. I was born a survivor, and survivors will do a lot of shady shit to make it to the next day. But hurting you? It was unacceptable, and I promise I won’t let anyone ever order me to do something like that ever again.”

  “I’m a survivor, too, Dex. I get it. I think we all live with regrets in our lives. Part of me wonders if it was my fault that Gigi was taken. Sure, she’s Kingston’s sister, but maybe she wouldn’t have tried to sneak out that night if I hadn’t been dumb enough to enter that tournament in the first place. Maybe she wouldn’t have had any desire to sneak out if I’d never sat down with her at Dottie’s and sparked a friendship. Maybe—”

  “It’s not your fault, Ace,” I console, unable to listen to her question her actions that might’ve led to a different outcome. It’s a dangerous rabbit hole that she shouldn’t go down.

  “And following orders when that’s all you’ve ever known,” she clarifies, “isn’t entirely your fault, either.”

  “I’m so fucking sorry,” I reiterate.

  With another kind smile, she picks up the mug she’d initially poured for me and nudges it toward me.

  “I forgive you, Dex. And, hopefully, we can both learn from our past mistakes and maybe even figure out when to follow our own hearts instead of someon
e else’s orders, ya know?”

  My suspicion spikes as I register her comment before brushing it off as a coincidence. There’s no way she suggested I ignore Kingston’s order to stay away from Regina. It’d be like signing my own death warrant while stabbing my Little Bird in the heart while I’m at it. I can’t do that to her.

  Bringing the cup to my mouth, I let the bitter liquid wash over me before adding, “I know the likelihood of you ever trusting me is slim at best, but you have me, Ace. If you ever need anything, it’s yours.”

  Her mouth quirks on the corner, only this time it’s genuine. “So, like…you owe me a favor or something?”

  With an awkward laugh, because I have no idea where she’s going with this, I confirm, “I guess so?”

  “Noted. Can I claim it right now?”

  Gaze narrowing in suspicion, I repeat, “I guess so?”

  “Good. Don’t hurt Gigi ‘cause she deserves the world. And while you’re at it, don’t piss off Kingston, either.”

  And I guess there’s my answer. If I disobey Kingston’s orders, it’ll definitely piss him off. Guess that means I’ll need to keep being a good little rule follower.

  I just hope Regina will be patient with me while I sort out this messed up situation and figure out how to give her everything she deserves.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Regina

  My entire body is humming with anticipation. Or maybe it’s nerves. Maybe it’s annoyance. I can’t really put my thumb on it, but I do know that I want to throw up as I lean against the counter in my bathroom and swipe the mascara wand along my upper lashes one more time.

  Hearing a soft knock on my bedroom door, I call out, “Yeah?”

  “It’s me,” a feminine voice responds.

  “Come in.”

  My hair is pulled to the side, hanging over my right shoulder in soft waves. Even though it looks fine, I run my fingers through it and tease the roots a little more to give it some body.

  “You look great,” Ace compliments as she peeks through the doorway.

  “Thanks,” I mutter before checking her out. “Uh…speaking of looking great. Day-um, Ace. You look awesome.”

  Her cheeks heat as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks. I don’t really know what to expect with this whole shindig tonight. What’s it like?”

  Snorting, I reply, “You’re asking the wrong girl. I’ve never been to one of these, either.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yup. Depressing, huh?”

  “I’m just surprised. Kingston said it’s kind of a big deal.”

  I laugh. “It is. Surrounding families and associates come from all over to attend, but I was never allowed to go because my dad wanted to keep my identity hidden.”

  “Your brother may have mentioned that part,” Ace admits with a look of pity. “But look at the bright side. Now, we both get to pop our mafia party cherries together.” She bounces her perfectly shaped eyebrows up and down for good measure.

  With a giggle, I concede, “Touché. It’ll definitely be interesting. I’ve been so isolated from everyone that I don’t really know what to expect, either. I’ve only heard stories.”

  “Yeah. Kingston said there’ll be wine, finger foods, and business suits. And that my mind will be spinning by the end of it. Oh! And he said that I shouldn’t stress if I don’t remember anyone’s name by the end of it because—”

  “Because you’re Kingston’s future wife, and they’ll be too afraid to correct you,” I quip with a smile.

  Blushing, she waves me off. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  “Uh…you don’t know how the families work. It’s all about marriage, and connections, and business deals, and blah, blah, blah. Just make sure you don’t let Kingston out of your sight. Until you put a ring on his finger, the sharks will still consider him free game and will be circling him like a bunch of hungry piranhas.”

  Her eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

  “These gatherings are also a prime event for finding spouses, which is why I’ve never really cared whether I was invited to attend. It’s also why I wasn’t invited, now that I think about it.” I laugh. “My dad didn’t want me to come out until it was on the arm of my future husband.”

  “Well…I mean…Dex will be there, too, right?” Ace offers, trying to look at the bright side.

  “Yeah. And he’ll be seen as fresh meat. Most of the girls wouldn’t even dream of ending up with a mob boss. But a sexy soldier like Dex is definitely within their reach.” I sigh before running my fingers through my hair all over again. Ace grabs my hands to stop them from fussing and gives me a quick squeeze to make sure she has my attention.

  “Be patient, G. I already told you—”

  “I know! But…part of me wonders if that’s Kingston’s plan. To introduce him to a bunch of eligible bachelorettes on a smorgasbord, and he can go crazy with whoever he wants. What if….” I blink back my emotions. “What if he forgets about me or realizes that he could have any girl in that room?”

  “Gigi,” she sighs. “Don’t think about it like that. Dex would be lucky to have you, and I know for a fact that he wants you and only you. Don’t shrug off his feelings just because you’re scared about how strongly you feel for him.”

  If my feelings are that apparent to her, then why can’t my brother see it?

  “I’ll try, Ace. I promise I’ll try.”

  “Good. And if shit hits the fan downstairs, I’ve got your back.”

  “Ditto.”

  The bustle from the main floor filters into my suite, amplifying my nerves all over again.

  “You ready to go?” Ace asks, watching me closely.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Good. Because now that you’ve mentioned the sharks, I’m a little worried to leave Kingston down there by himself.”

  I laugh. “Trust me. You have nothing to worry about. He only has eyes for you.”

  “And Dex only has eyes for you,” she counters.

  “I guess we’ll see.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Regina

  My deep red heels match my sleeveless dress perfectly, and I find myself thanking the designer gods who were smart enough to add a slit that reaches my mid-thigh. Without it, there’s no way I’d be able to walk down the stairs from my room to the first floor. My hand clutches Ace’s as I feel multiple sets of eyes on me. With my gaze glued to my red heels, I take a deep breath.

  I can’t decide if they’re looking at me, the princess of the Romano family, or if they’re looking at Ace, the woman who captured the Dark King’s heart. Or maybe I’m imagining their stares all together, and it’s entirely in my head. I chance a glance toward a long table that’s tucked against the wall where a group of guests has congregated together. Each and every one of them is turned in our direction. Some have open curiosity in their gazes. Others seem unamused with our presence. And a few look like they’ve eaten something sour.

  When I see Dex’s face mingled with the rest, my steps falter. A girl is clinging to his forearm like a little monkey as she throws her head back, laughing.

  My spine straightens as I debate on running back to my room when Ace’s grip tightens.

  “He’s not interested in her, G. He’s staring at you.”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a deep breath, then open them and search for my protector. When our gazes connect, I watch his jaw tighten, but he doesn’t move a damn muscle.

  “He might be staring at me,” I mutter under my breath, “But he hasn’t shrugged away from her, either.”

  “Be patient, G. That’s all I’m saying,” she replies before leading me the rest of the way to the first floor. I don’t like that I’ve lost my vantage point of the room, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

  After ushering me to the side of the room for a little space to breathe, Ace grabs two glasses of wine from a server and shoves one into my hand.

  “Here. Liquid co
urage.”

  “I’m Italian,” I counter. “Which means I’m gonna need an entire bottle.”

  Grinning, she quips, “Challenge accepted.” Then she’s gone, and I’m left with a house plant for company with a side of staring from every single person in the room.

  I spot Dex through the crowd in his pristine black tux with his short, dark hair slicked back. There’s still a bit of scruff on his face, though, and I kind of love the tiny act of rebellion that accompanies it. If only the X tattoo on his forearm was on display, then I’d be transported back to when we first met, and I could keep him all to myself. Feeling my inspection, his eyes meet mine like a homing beacon before the same girl from moments ago appears beside him. I watch her mouth graze the shell of his ear as she whispers something to him, but the sight quickly disappears when a man in a navy blue suit steps in front of me.

  “Regina, I presume?” he asks.

  “And you are…?” I return in a cool tone.

  “Alessandro Marino. I was a friend of your father’s before he passed.”

  Obviously, I want to say, but I keep my snark to myself and ask, “Is that right?”

  The name sounds vaguely familiar, and I take my time assessing him a little more closely. He has dark hair and a soft build around the center, not appearing to be overweight by any means, but I can tell he doesn’t spend his time at the gym or doing anything particularly active, either. Tilting my head, I notice that he’s maybe a few inches taller than me if I’m not wearing heels, but today we’re practically the same height. It’s his eyes, though, that get to me. Icy blue and just as cold.

  “Yes. I apologize that he never had a chance to formally introduce us.”

  There’s something about the way he says it that causes the hair along my arms to stand on end. Brushing my open palms along them, I rock back on my heels and mutter, “Yes. Quite a pity. Excuse me, but––”

  “Already running along?” he asks, following my retreat by taking a step closer. His movement nearly pins me against the wall behind me, and my fight or flight instinct threatens to rear its ugly head.