Crossfire (Rarissime Book 1)
you mind taking care of everything?” asked Hunter, approaching the girl. He was smiling, however, his eyes betrayed how tired he really was. Probably even more than Savannah herself.Hunter Gordon was a sixty-year-old man who owned the place. He was there every day, usually in the kitchen.
Savannah nodded. ”Sure thing. Go home and rest,” she said, knowing that his main priority was to go to his wife because of her birthday. He had mentioned it a few times today. He was clearly eager to leave and spend at least a little bit of time with her. ”Wish Judy happy birthday from me.”
Looking around the diner, she made a mental list of the things to do before closing. There was no one left since it was almost closing hour. They usually had the biggest crowds in the morning for breakfast and dinner in the late afternoon. She could handle being by herself for a couple of minutes.
It wasn’t the first time she was the last to leave. Out of all workers, she was the one who took it upon herself to work longer shifts even if it meant going home late in the night. She was making decent money due to the tips, however, the additional payout was greatly needed.
”See you tomorrow, Savannah.” Hunter saluted and left quickly.
So with a plan set, she started dealing with the hardest tasks first.
The little doorbell rang, causing her to think that she'd forgotten to close the door when Hunter had left so that no one would get any ideas to come inside. Yes, it was rude since the closing hour was still five minutes away, but without the cook, it was the right thing to do. If she tried her hand at making food, people would only get food poisoning. If it was even eatable. And just like that, she was going to apologize to the customers and encourage them to come back tomorrow.
She turned around and her breath caught in her throat. She was met with the most intense piercing green eyes she'd ever seen. Unable to look away.
Chapter Two
A man stood in the doorway, dressed in a black, tailored suit. Tall and muscled, with broad shoulders and tanned, olive skin. The sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong, defined arms with his hands hidden in the pockets of his pants. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and the tie was undone, loosely hanging from his neck. The clothes made him look like a combination of a model and a businessman after hours. However, more of the first than the later. He was clearly young. Perhaps in his early twenties. Close to Savannah's age, surely.
A strange sensation settled in the pit of her stomach as he moved a few steps closer.
Her coworker Megan's words flashed in her mind. She'd described a certain man who had shown up here the last time she'd been closing the diner together with Hunter. It matched, making her realize a ghastly thing. The person standing in front of her was neither a real model nor a businessman. However, they would probably fight her on that.
Her mouth went dry, fingers started trembling as she was holding a cloth in her palm.
Elio Conte.
A soldier for the Las Vegas Famiglia. A dangerous criminal; the one who came here once a month to collect protection money from Hunter. A person who Savannah was alone with right now. She didn't think for a second that her boss forgot about the visit. Using his wife's birthday, he rushed out so quickly that she could not see anything but the dust in his wake.
Now she acknowledged his behavior the way she was supposed to in the first place.
As an escape.
"Hunter is not here. He had to leave earlier. Some kind of emergency." She tried to sound calm but her voice was slightly pitched and her heart behaved like it would jump out of her chest any moment.
And why the hell did she feel the need to lie for the man who put her in danger's way? It was beyond her.
Elio regarded her, nodding his head. A barely visible smirk flickered on his face. "I can see that." When he spoke it was like a roll of thunder. His words were soft but Savannah believed that no one ever ignored what he said. "Do you have what I came here for?" he asked.
He didn't seem angry that Hunter wasn't meeting him. Merely bored.
Reluctantly, she shook her head. "No, sorry. He forgot to mention where he left the money."
Again, what's with all the lying? He didn't mention anything because there was no money. Otherwise, Hunter would be here himself to hand it over. Getting on the mafia's good side was always something people aimed to do. It's better to ask for help than beg for mercy.
The man adjusted his jacket, the material catching on his belt slightly. Savannah's eyes dropped down to the gun that was sticking out from the holster at his hip. She swallowed, imagining the worst-case scenario. Him pointing it at her head, his finger on the trigger about to pull it.
She tried to stay adamant but as the chuckle escaped Elio's lips, he probably saw past her facade. But whether it was how terribly scared she was of him, or that there was no money, to begin with, she couldn't say. Instead, he sat down in one of the booths, pulling out a packet of cigarettes.
"Then go and look for it in his office," he said.
It was a demand that she felt all the way to her toes. Now Savannah was certain that he was playing with her but she wasn't brave enough to say that to him just yet, especially with a big lump in her throat. She turned on her heels in search for something that wouldn't be there. Yet she desperately wanted to be wrong about Hunter. His behavior wasn't calculating and that was the only thing that made her search the whole room chaotically.
That and the