Empire rachel van dyken

Which really couldn’t be a good sign.

“How long has it been?” I asked once we parked across the street, our black Mercedes blended in quite well with the rest of the Lincolns and Audis.

Frank frowned. “A while.”

“Well, that’s descriptive, thanks.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Just, don’t pull your gun. They’ll be offended.”

My eyes widened. “No shit? So if I pull a gun, I’m going to offend them, but they’re more than welcome to pull a gun on me?”

“You’ve been shot before.” He shrugged. “Just duck.”

“Wow.” I let out a low whistle. “For a loving grandfather, you kind of suck with the sentimental stuff.”

He chuckled as I got out of the car and then abruptly pulled me into his arms for a hug, slapping the shit out of my back at least three times before kissing both of my cheeks.

“What the hell was that?” I whispered, not sure if I was more amused or uncomfortable.

“That—” he pointed back at the house “—was for the men that I know without a doubt are watching us.

They need not know of your identity just yet… but mine? They will know me. They do not need to know your name. Listen very carefully. Here you are not Abandonato. Here you are a business man.”

Well that was easy. I was a businessman. I owned several businesses, but they were all Abandonato businesses.

“Do I have a different name too?”

“Sergio.” He grinned as the wind picked up blowing his thick wavy grey hair away from his face, it made him look younger. “Just Sergio.”

“Yeah, I give them five seconds to see through that.”

“Eh, people see what you want them to see. You know that as well as I.” I gulped and looked away as his point aimed straight for my heart and dug in. I’d been feeling guilty about putting on a good show for my family back home in Chicago. Frank was the only one who knew it was all complete bullshit.

That I was lost.

That I felt like I would be lost forever.

And the fear that came along with it — the fear that I’d found my home, only to lose it, along with the comfort that I’d never feel that way again.

Ever.

“Let’s go.” He slapped my back one last time as we walked across the street and made our way up the stairs to a neat brownstone. It was old, but well kept. The brick clean, the door displaying a nice knocker, and the mat in front of the door said Welcome.

Hah, if they only knew…

Frank raised his hand to knock.