Chapter 124

On the weekend… As promised, I took Garcia to the rink, ready to teach him some moves. He put on the gear, a proud look on his face as he lifted the hockey stick. "I am ready," he said with confidence. I laughed. He just arched a brow. "What?" "I mean…" I gestured vaguely to his entire mafia warlord aura. "Don't scream when you fall." "I don't scream," he said. "I issue ultimatums." Fair point. So there we were, an actual mafia king in designer gloves and a rental helmet, standing at the edge of the skating rink. He surveyed the ice like a battlefield. "Doesn't look so hard." "Mm-hmm," I muttered. "Go on, hotshot. Show me how it's done." Garcia stepped onto the ice with confidence. His foot slipped. His knee buckled. His arms shot out like he was trying to fly. "Shit," he hissed, death-gripping the wall. "What the hell is this? Greased glass?" "Welcome to ice skating," I said, gliding past him effortlessly. "The great equalizer." "I have survived five assassination attempts," he growle