by Faye Byrd
Ivan, my baby brother, cuts in then, trying to stop a disagreement before it begins. Holding up my phone, he pushes his glasses up his nose and says, “You left this here.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” I reply with an eye roll as I flop down onto the crocodile leather sofa beside him. “I needed to get away and clear my head for a bit.”
Stefano chuckles, leaning forward. “Yeah, I wonder why.” His glass slaps against the cherry wood of my coffee table. “Did it ever occur to you that there was a reason Jason Matthews was still alive?” He pins me with deadly ice blue eyes.
I lift a brow. “Not really. I figured Angelo was just playing with his kill. You know how he can be.” I shrug and get up to get my own glass of whiskey. I’m going to need it if this is how my night is going to go.
Mimi stands quickly and holds out her hands. “You sit. I’ve got this.” She swings her ass around and sways it all the way to the bar.
I cut my eyes to my dad and flop back down, too tired to even get into this bullshit tonight. “Is it a problem that I iced him?”
Stefano drags his eyes away from Mimi’s ass and sighs. “Doesn’t matter if it is. It’s done, but that’s not why we’re here anyway.” He waves toward my brother and turns back to watch Mimi as she delivers my drink. “Ivan.”
My brother leans forward and grabs his tablet from the coffee table, cueing it up and passing it over. I take a sip of my whiskey and look at the information on the screen, spewing Glenfiddich everywhere when I realize what I’m looking at.
“Cazzo di Budda,” I whisper to myself, because seriously, holy fuck.
On the screen is a picture of Piper, only her full name is listed—Piper Michelle Tate. Instead of anger, a smirk forms. We’ve been waiting for a move like this since we opened, but never did I imagine Agent Tate would send in his own daughter. Surely the stupid fuck knows we’d ID her, right?
“Get Angelo and Madeline here,” I snap, my mind already forming a strategy. “Now!” I add when Ivan just looks at me with wide eyes.
He starts shaking his head slowly, his large glasses slipping down his nose. “There’s no way you’re pinning this on Maddy. You’re the one who hired her.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t fucking worry. I’m not gonna blame your little girlfriend, but we have a strategy to discuss and implement.” I rub my chin, lost in my own chaotic thoughts.
On the one hand, I’ve been waiting for this opportunity since Dark Star opened, but on the very fucked up other, I’m suddenly not so excited because it’s Piper. I’m … if I had to put a name to it, I might even say slightly disappointed.
I stand and start pacing, my hand tightening around my alley-stained hair. The thought disgusts me so I snatch it away, irritation creeping in to replace the buzz from my earlier encounter.
“Cazzo,” I swear and pace faster, my mind jumping from thought to thought so rapidly I can barely keep up.
Every time I try to imagine how this plays out, flashes of us fucking invades my mind. But then a new thought occurs—one that gives me another focus and much more satisfaction. Will she report that to her father?
I chuckle aloud.
“Care to share with the class?” my father asks, waving his scotch-bearing hand in the air.
“I just can’t believe Henry Tate was stupid enough to send in his daughter,” I remark absently.
“Dante,” my father says, his voice stern. “Did you read the information after her name and parents’ names?”
I pause and look to him with furrowed brows. “No, but surely that’s the most important fact.”
Stefano sighs and stands, walking over to grip my shoulder. “Son, if you’re going to fill my shoes one day, you’ve got to learn to slow down and take in all the information before deciding on a course of action.” He squeezes once and let's go, tilting his head toward the abandoned tablet. “Now, go look again.”
My eyes narrow, but I follow his orders, mostly because I have no fucking choice, and grab the tablet, flopping down with purpose. As I scan the information, aside from who she is, it becomes clear why he felt the need to point it out.
From the looks of it, Piper hasn’t had much contact with her dad since her parents’ divorce when she was seven. She grew up in Phoenix and graduated from the University of Arizona School of Dance two years ago, which could help explain why she’s so bewitching. She broke up with her college sweetheart and moved to Chicago six months ago. The final piece of information brings a smile to my face. That goddamn Ivan. Her favorite nail polish color is purple.
I lift a brow at the Boss. “You seriously think this was a coincidence?”
He smirks. “You know I don’t believe in coincidence, but I also don’t believe in going off half-cocked.”
At his mention of the word cock, Mimi perks up and starts rubbing his thigh. I gag as I jump up, heading into the kitchen to pour bleach into my eyes. Mimi Lang is my father’s goomah, and she’s six years younger than me. And while it’s a fairly common practice in the Outfit, I don’t like to witness it or anything that relates my father and sex. It’s even worse when your mother likes the goomah better than she likes your father.
I lean against the counter and take deep breaths, making every attempt to erase the image from my mind. But thoughts of sex only lead to my own, and before I know it, I’m reliving the whole ten-minute encounter from earlier in fine detail.
The ding from the elevator snaps me from the memory, and I shake my head, moving back into the living room. Angelo emerges and goes straight to my father, being a good little suck-up, and Madeline takes my seat next to Ivan, who turns bright red when she smiles his way.
I roll my goddamn eyes.
I love my brother as much as I can love another person, but he’s not cut out for this life. From a very young age, it was obvious he’d never become a made man unless it was by force. So he keeps his nose clean and only aids with the super-technical shit, in addition to being listed as the owner of Dark Star.
With cutesy looks between Madeline and Ivan on top of Roaming Hands Mimi and the addition of Angelo’s usual flair, we spend the next two hours discussing a plan to stay on top of what I’ve dubbed as Operation Nail a Tate.
I crack myself the fuck up.
In the end, it’s decided that Ivan will put her under electronic surveillance, which is some serious shit. He has access to every camera in the city along with his own unique toys that I can’t even begin to understand. In addition, Angelo will have one of his soldiers, Manuel, tail her, which strangely gives me some peace of mind over her late walk home. And finally, Madeline will keep a special eye on her at Dark Star.
It’s five in the morning when I’m finally seeing these motherfuckers out my door. My dad stops and grips my shoulder on his way by. “Ya seem a little out of sorts, son. What gives?”
“This just doesn’t feel right. The information isn’t adding up.” I shake my head, thinking about all I learned tonight.
“Well, you be sure and steer clear of this broad until we know more,” he says, pinning me with his deadly stare.
“You know I don’t toy with the help, pop,” I reply on instinct, not missing the command in his voice.
“Just so we’re clear.” He squeezes tighter and releases me, stepping into Mimi’s waiting arms. I feel sorry for my brother having to ride down with the two of them.
When the elevator finally closes, I sigh and lean back against the wall, my father’s command echoing inside my mind—too fucking late. The past thirty-six hours feel like they’ve lasted five long years.
THREE
UNIQUE RELATIONSHIPS
For the rest of the week, I go to the club and do my best to keep my eyes away from Piper, but no matter how fucking hard I try, the task seems impossible. On the first night after our fuck, I’m simply walking across the VIP platform when I spot her.
My traitorous feet stop their movement, and my eyes scan her form as she sways to a beat I can’t hear. When she spins, though, horror flits through m
e. Across the top of her back, the ultraviolet light highlights an area of blue skin that’s covered in scrapes—wounds consistent with a good brick-wall fucking. Guilt gnaws at me, which only pisses me the fuck off.
She’s infiltrated my life. Both at the club and when it comes to the Outfit. Because they’re intertwined when it comes to her. Even if she isn’t working for her dad, she knows who he is, and she knows who I am. Whatever game she’s playing, it’s a dangerous one.
Six days after Operation Nail a Tate begins, Ivan and Joseph are waiting at the penthouse when I get home after an invigorating stalking session. Well, not stalking per se, but I was caught up in her performance.
“Joseph, good to see you,” I say as I take off my suit jacket and pour a drink. “I was surprised when you weren’t here last week.”
He chuckles. “You know Anna would have my hide if I left her at two in the morning, unless it was an emergency.”
I take a sip of my whiskey, savoring the warmth as it travels down my throat. “How is she?”
Joseph is my father’s Consigliere. They grew up together, and he’s been at my father’s side since he took over the Outfit. He’s like an uncle to me, and in fact, Ivan still refers to him as such. His wife, Anna, was right there beside them their whole fucking lives until she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.
He sighs. “She has her good days and her bad ones,” he says solemnly before his pain-filled eyes meet mine. “She’s honestly just ready to stop hurting.”
“Tell her I’ll be by there soon,” I reply, hating the thought of the feisty Anna I’ve always known in pain, but it’s been that way for a long time now.
He nods. “Will do.”
I take a seat on the sofa and place my drink on a coaster on the coffee table. “Let’s get to business so Joseph can get back home. What ya got for me?” My eyes flick between the two of them.
Ivan clears his throat and pulls a laptop from beside him. He pushes his glasses into “serious business” position, and his hands fly over the keys as I stay silent, mostly in awe at his technological skills.
When he’s done, he flicks on the TV and hits a key on the laptop. A video appears on my sixty-inch screen. It’s Piper and she’s in the park, settled on a bench, reading a book. If it wasn’t for my fetish when it comes to spying on her, I’d be bitching that he’s bothering me with such inane bullshit, but for some fucked up reason, I can’t get enough.
For eight fucking minutes, I’m entranced as she occasionally crosses and uncrosses her legs while slowly flipping the pages of her book. In fact, I even get a little irritated when Ivan takes the initiative and fast forwards an extra five minutes.
“What the fuck you do that for?” I snap when he interferes with my ogling.
Ivan leans his head down and looks at me over the large square rim of his black glasses. “Sorry, bro. It was just more of the same.”
Joseph lets out an unexpected chuckle, and my eyes snap to him. He shrugs. “What? You got a hard-on for this broad or something?”
I huff. “This girl might be trying to take us down. It’s my job to know her every goddamn move!”
Instead of agreeing, Joseph’s eyes narrow as they scrutinize me. I hold his stare, intent on covering my ass. With a chuckle, he slaps my shoulder and says, “Methinks the boy doth protest too much.” His tone is playful, but I still worry what he might share with my father.
“Play the goddamn video, Ivan,” I snap, crossing my arms in a huff.
Ivan lets out a little squeak, but with a flick of his fingers, Piper’s back on the screen. This time, though, I can already see the old mustached fucker approaching: Special Agent Henry Fucking Tate.
He sits, and she moves over to put a foot between them. I chuckle, ignoring the looks the two motherfuckers around me are giving each other. A sound crackles from my surround sound, and I can suddenly hear them speaking.
“Piper,” Agent Tate says, his tone soft. “I know you’re mad, honey, but you’re being stupid.”
“Stupid?” she yells, causing the people with kids in the background to cast her wary glances. She looks around and seems mortified, so she leans closer. “I’ll tell you what’s stupid. Stupid is leaving your family to chase someone else’s. Stupid is thinking two cards a year will replace being a father. So trust me, my stupidity didn’t fall far from the tree.”
Agent Tate sighs, and I almost feel sorry for him, being on the other end of her wrath. “Piper, you’re playing with your life. Dante Simone is no good. What do you think working at his club is going to accomplish?”
“First,” she says, holding up her fingers to tick off her points. “It’s not his club. Second, it’s the highest paying job in the city for a dancer. And third, at least Dante Simone never pretended to be something he’s not.”
Henry’s mustache twitches and his face turns red. “How would you know anything about him?”
She actually smirks at the motherfucker, and I cringe, afraid of what might come out of her mouth. “Oh, I know all about Dante Simone. He did more for me in ten minutes than you have my whole life.”
He grabs her arm, and I tense. “You call allowing you to work in that filthy club doing something?”
She snatches her arm away and stands with a snort. “Oh, he worked me over all right.”
“Now you listen to me, Piper Michelle,” Henry yells, standing and shaking his finger, his whole head beet red. “You’ll stay the fuck away from him, or I’ll send you back to Phoenix.”
She smiles and tilts her head like she pities him. “In case you missed it, Henry, I’m a grown woman who can live where I please.” With that, she shoves her book into her bag and struts away.
The screen goes dark, and I just stare at it for several minutes, replaying the scene over and over in my mind. Not only did she stand up to him, but she complimented me to spite him. This girl never fails to surprise me.
She’s been a constant in my mind since I first saw her dance. Add the fuck in the alley and now her defending me to her father, and I’m way past gone. The urge to see her, speak with her, to learn what makes her fucking tick slams into me like a fucking brick, and I’m on my feet without realizing it.
I grab my jacket and start for the elevator. “Whoa,” Joseph calls, halting me. “Where’s the fire?”
I scrub my hand through my hair in frustration, pausing only to say, “I need to see Piper.”
“I think the Boss gave you an order,” Joseph says tersely, and the insinuation is clear, causing me to spin and face him.
“This surveillance nullifies that fucking order. Now, see yourselves out,” I snap, my gaze cold and uncaring as I stare him down. He holds up his hands, and with one final glare, I enter the elevator.
After checking the club and realizing she’s already gone, I hurry out to the sidewalk and start down the path she takes on her journey home. I figure I’ll at least run into Manuel, but I don’t. Not even when I turn down the alley and see three figures at the other end. Two of them have a smaller figure backed into the wall.
Fuck. Again?
I start running. An unusual feeling crashes through me, something unfamiliar. But soon, I realize what it is. Fear. I’m afraid something will happen before I reach her. Halfway down the alley, I pull out my gun and pause to take aim, hoping I can scare them if nothing else.
Just as I’m about to pull the trigger, the person huddled against the wall strikes. Her leg kicks out, kneeing one of the shadows in the balls. The other shadow grabs her, but she sends her head flying back to smack him in the nose. I’m both impressed and irate.
I start running again.
When I finally reach her, she’s standing over the guy holding his balls, kicking him over and over with her spiked heel. The second guy is nowhere to be found. Even though watching her give him a beat-down is making my cock swell, I’d rather get her away from here.
I reach my arm around her waist, pulling her back against my chest. She leans her head down, ready to hea
dbutt me, but I whisper, “Shh, Piper, it’s me. I’ve got you.”
“Dante?” Her body relaxes against mine.
“Hey, hey. Turn around. Let me look at you,” I soothe, checking her over. “Are you all right?”
Her eyes flick to the guy on the ground before coming back to me. “I think so. Knowing self-defense and using it are two different things.”
I brush her hair from her eyes. “I get it. You’re okay now. I’m here.” I glance to the guy and rage builds inside. “Do you want me to clip him?” She giggles this cute little giggle like I’m joking, but I’m not. “I’m dead serious, Piper.”
Her face sobers instantly. “No, Dante. Please don’t. Not on my account.”
Hearing my name from her lips sends chills racing over my skin. “What about on the account that he’ll probably do this again, and the next girl might not be as badass as you?”
Her brows pucker. “Do you really think he will?”
“Not a doubt in my mind,” I say with a definitive nod.
She looks back at him with scorn. “Can we just go?”
“Sure,” I reply, taking out my silenced Glock.
“Wai—”
She’s too late. I aim and pull the trigger, hitting him in his side, making sure to miss all vital organs. She jumps, shrieking a little as her hands cover her mouth, her eyes wide on the ailing man. Slowly, they come back to me. I hold my breath and wait for her reaction, but she just steps closer to my side.
“Relax, Piper. He’ll live,” I assure her, holstering my gun. “I just don’t want him to get away before they find him.”
“Shooting someone is a crime,” she retaliates, giving me the bitch brow.
I smirk. “I think we both know he’d be dead if I wasn’t being considerate of your feelings,” I say as I put my phone to my ear. Angelo answers on the first ring. “Get the cops to the alley beside Piper’s building.”
“What we talking?” he asks.
“Stalker with a gunshot wound,” I say, then bark, “Dire a Manuel che sarà lui a rispondere a me presto,” to let him know that Manuel will answer to me for his fuck-up tonight.
