Empire (Eagle Elite Book 7) by Rachel van Dyken

smiled. “Funny, that’s what Dante says to me all the time. Just think of all the things you get to look forward to. Isn’t that what you said you wanted?”
    Sergio looked ready to strangle me. “No. I don’t believe I asked for an annoying little sister, but if that’s what you’re offering, please don’t let me stop you. Just know, I won’t hesitate to put you over my knee if you get out of hand.”
    The minute the words left his mouth. I froze.
    He froze.
    The taxi driver stared little laser-like holes into the rearview mirror.
    And Sergio leaned toward me.
    I swallowed as tension swirled around us.
    He gripped me by the chin and turned my head to the side, his lips brushing my ear. “It’s like you have a death wish.”
    “You wouldn’t do it.”
    He pulled back as both of his eyebrows shot up, and then he looked down, like something had caught his eye.
    I followed the direction of his gaze and let out a little gasp as a gun dug into my stomach.
    “It’s been directed at you for the last four minutes,” Sergio said through a practiced smile. “I meant what I said. Listen well. I keep my word. Kiss me, and blood will be spilled.”
    “Y-you’re a crazy person!” I hissed, shoving at his chest. “And I wasn’t going to kiss you!”
    “Sure you weren’t.” He put the gun away. “Good talk though, right? Oh look, the movie theater.”
    To say that I scrambled out of the car like a kid running away from her kidnapper would be a gross understatement, but the minute my feet hit the pavement, I paused.
    My body told me to run.
    The guy had pulled a gun.
    On me.
    I didn’t even watch violent movies, I’d just panicked and said the first thing that popped into my head!
    And I was about to go to the theater with a guy who probably showered in blood on a daily basis and by the looks of it — got off on it.
    Shivering, I forced myself to take a deep breath and wrapped my jacket tighter around my body.
    That was the thing about men like Sergio, or maybe just loyalty in general. He’d promised he would keep me safe, but I wondered if that promise was only extended until I was more trouble than I was worth.
    I was safe, not because of what I was to him.
    But because of who my dad had been to him.
    I was nothing.
    And yet, a part of me still yearned to be… something.
    Anything really.
    Pathetic.
    “Change your mind?” Sergio’s smooth voice interrupted my thoughts. He was the type of man you felt even when he wasn’t speaking. His presence was impossible to ignore, kind of like his ridiculous good looks.
    Weren’t mafia guys supposed to be old?
    Fat?
    Chain smokers who bought Cuban cigars and sat behind large desks while counting money and ordering hits on people who pissed them off?
    “No.” I finally found my voice. “I was just thinking….”
    “About?” His hand touched my back, ushering me forward, but not pushing, almost as if he was giving me the option of still saying no.
    I increased my pace so that I couldn’t feel the warmth of his fingertips. “Popcorn.” I turned and winked, hoping it would hide the fact that my body was shaking.
    Maybe I was the crazy one.
    Because he was armed.
    The man was armed .
    And he had no qualms about pointing his weapon at me whenever I got too close.
    Huh, we’d have a happy marriage.
    I guess we’d never argue, since I liked living.
    And, you know, breathing.
    It would suck not to make my twenty-first birthday because I didn’t fold the towels just right.
    And again, I froze.
    Was he that neurotic? Or was it just the closeness?
    “On a scale of one to ten…” I was proud of the way I kept the shaking out of my voice. Why was I so scared? Oh right, because he’d pointed a gun, no, shoved a freaking gun into my stomach and done it with a smile on his face. “How OCD are you?”
    An easy laugh escaped him as he glanced around the movie theater lobby and then back at me. “What makes you think I’m OCD?”
    “Things.” I gulped then forced a