Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“I’m fine, Lonnie. I was just…thinking.”
“Oh. Well don’t do that if it’s dangerous. I thought you might have fallen asleep. Figured you were out late last night as usual.”
Lonnie sometimes forgot that she worked for us rather than the other way around, but she got away with it because her father had been one of our most loyal guards. He’d laid down his life for Lucien’s father, so Lonnie would always have a place with us.
“I got you a new customer,” she said. “He’s looking for something big.”
“Can’t you give him to Val?”
“No, Val’s out of town, remember?”
“Shit. Fine.” The last thing I wanted to do was negotiate with some in-debt asshole.
“Meet him at Cam’s Bakery at noon.”
“Will do.” At least I’d have a chance to go watch Zeke play this afternoon. After this appointment, I didn’t have any other pressing business.
Lonnie frowned at me. “Are you sure you’re all right? You’ve seemed distracted for days now.”
I waved a hand to dismiss her concerns. “I’m fine. You’re right. It was a late night last night.”
She frowned. “Maybe you should stay in tonight and get some sleep. You know how Dom feels about you being focused on your work.”
Pops was really big on focus and had no idea how to have any fun. But that shouldn’t mean I couldn’t have a life. “I’ve got things under control.”
She raised her brows.
“That’s all, Lonnie.”
“Sure, but if you need to talk later….”
I sighed, she really meant well. “Thanks. I’ll ask if I need something.”
“Do that.”
I actually considered calling her back and spilling everything, but she’d think I was crazy. Anyone I told would think I was crazy, except maybe Devil. I was fairly sure that meant I had actually lost my mind, but I wasn’t going to stop myself. I was going to keep pushing and see what I could get away with. If I could kill someone, ditch the body, and move on like nothing happened, then I could get away with a little light stalking. It wasn’t like I was actually going to hurt Zeke; I was going to make him feel really fucking good.
I took care of some boring paperwork, made a stop to collect a payment from a customer—fortunately for her, she actually had the money—then headed to Cam’s Bakery. I walked behind the counter, helped myself to a cannoli and a coffee, and headed to the office in the back.
“What the fuck?” Cam asked when he saw me waltzing through the kitchen.
“I’ve got a meeting.”
“This isn’t an open buffet.”
“Seriously? You can’t spare one of your famous cannoli for family?”
Cam rolled his eyes. “How long is this meeting going to take?”
“Why? You got business of your own to take care of back here?” We often used a room in the back of the bakery to meet people we hadn’t vetted and didn’t want in our “legitimate” office.
“No, but I’ve got customers, and if things get—”
“It’s nothing like that, just a basic contract negotiation.”
“There’s nothing basic about this family’s business.”
I laughed, and he flipped me off as I disappeared into the office. I’d polished off the cannoli and most of the coffee when there was a knock on the door that opened into the alley behind the bakery. At least the guy knew how to follow instructions.
“It’s open,” I called.
The knob turned slowly. Oh good, a nervous one. That would make this go much better. Nothing was worse than assholes who thought they were entitled to money or the ones who thought they had to act as tough as me to be taken seriously.
I was typing a message on my phone as the door creaked open. When I looked up, my mouth dropped open.
Zeke stood there staring at me.
He looked fucking delicious in a pair of tight, worn jeans, a black T-shirt, and his black leather jacket. I’d only ever seen him in hockey gear or a team shirt and jeans.
For a moment I thought he’d decided to track me down. Then I realized he was the one who needed money.
He needed my money. I smiled. “What can I do for you?”
“You…you work for the Marchesis?”
How remiss of me. I should have told you my full name. I held out my hand for him to shake. “I’m Vito Marchesi.”
“No.”
“I wouldn’t say that to my father. He might take issue with you.”
“This was a mistake.” He turned around and reached for the doorknob, but I was behind him before he could turn it. I held the door closed, my body heating as I pressed against his back.
“Move,” he demanded.
“I don’t think so. You need my help, or you wouldn’t have come here.”
“I didn’t know it was you.”
“That was obvious.”
“I made a mistake. I’ll handle this myself.”
“But I’d like to help.” I said the words right against his ear and was rewarded with a shudder.