by Faye Byrd
“What?” I growl, eyeing each one of the assholes.
Pop laughs louder and even claps his fucking hands. I’m almost ready to get my fucking gun before he finally reins it in and stares off down the hall. “Yeah,” he says, flicking his eyes to me. “You need to tap that and move the fuck on.”
My jaw clamps down so fucking tight I’m afraid I’m going to crack a fucking tooth, but opening my mouth will only make it worse. Piper and I will do what we want to fucking do, and now at least this motherfucker knows about it. One problem fucker down, one to go.
Heels clicking against marble gain my attention, so I relax my stance and turn to watch as Piper places her mess of a tray before Ivan. He doesn’t even fucking hesitate. He grabs her fork and starts shoveling that shit right into his fucking pie hole. I almost throw up in my mouth.
But when Piper turns that smile on me, it all fades the fuck away. She toys with her backpack strap as she approaches. The shyness of her move is a little perplexing until her nervous eyes glance past me.
Understanding dawns.
I reach out my arm for her to walk into and turn us both toward the other two men in the room, clearing my throat. “Joseph, Stefano, I’d like you to officially meet Piper Tate.” The look I give them is fucking deadly.
Joseph offers a small smile. “Good morning, Miss Piper. Nice to finally meet ya.”
Piper goes to respond, but my father interrupts. “Piper,” he says, tilting his head her way. “I owe you an apology for our last meeting and would like to offer that now.”
Piper juts out her hip, staying quiet for a few seconds, but when Pop fails to continue, she says, “I’m waiting.”
I cover my laugh with a cough, but my father doesn’t. He laughs loud, and his eyes are shining when he finally looks back to Piper. “Touché,” he says with a nod. “I am sorry for our first encounter and promise never to be so disrespectful to you again.”
Piper relaxes against me. “Thank you, Mr. Simone.” She glances up at me. “I need to get going.”
“I’ll walk you out,” I respond, leading us toward the elevator.
It automatically opens when we approach, and I lead her all the way in, which, judging by her expression, confuses the fuck out of her. I chuckle and access the control panel. After a few commands, I lift her right hand and press her thumb onto the scanner.
She watches me curiously but otherwise says nothing. When the panel beeps, I lift her finger and place a light kiss on her wrist before letting go. “There,” I say, nodding to the print scanner. “You’ll never need to ask someone for permission to enter the penthouse again.”
Her eyes move between me and the control panel several times before she steps closer, her body pressed tightly against mine. My arms automatically encircle her as she stares at my bare chest, but I stay quiet and allow her to gather her thoughts.
Finally, her eyes tilt up to mine. “I’m not sure the proper response to a gesture like this, so I’ll just say thank you and promise to actually take you up on the offer.”
I smirk. “Yeah?”
“Ye—”
My lips cut off her reply. They’re hard and insistent, my tongue pushing its way inside her mouth yet relaxing as soon as it tangles with hers. I explore her slowly, savoring each and every stroke that passes between us. My hand fists her hair, positioning her head so that I have maximum access to every single inch of her.
The groan that rumbles up my chest is the only thing that keeps me tethered to the real world. Were it not for that, I might’ve taken her against the elevator wall—shoulder and audience be damned.
I growl as I reluctantly pull away. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, solare,” I say, releasing her and stepping back into my penthouse.
She smirks and presses the button for the doors to close. I stand and watch as her form is slowly concealed before turning to face a trio of nosy fucking assholes who don’t even pretend not to be looking.
“Geesh, fuckers, you’d think none of you ever get any pussy with the way you’re acting.”
Pop chuckles sarcastically. “I think you know better than that.”
Ivan turns beet red, but it’s Joseph’s reaction that guts me. His sad eyes fall to his lap. Because, no, he isn’t getting shit. He’s just happy his wife is still with him at all. A knot forms in my gut as I make my way back to the living room and perch on the edge of the coffee table. There’s a spot beside Joseph on the sofa, but no fucking thank you.
I touch his knee. “I’m sorry, Joseph. I wasn’t thinking.”
He blows out a heavy breath and waves me off. “Nothing to be sorry for. I know you’d never intentionally be insensitive, but”—he points a finger at me—“you need to see her … soon.” He cuts his eyes to Pop. “Let’s move on to business so I can get back home.”
The Boss joins his hands together in front of him and props his chin on his extended pointer fingers, sort of fucking nodding but also deep in thought. It’s fucking annoying, considering he’s had all morning to get his shit together. I clear my throat and earn a pair of previously unfocused eyes narrowed my way.
I give him a fake smile and a little fucking wave. “Whenever you’re ready.”
He sighs and digs a cigar from his inside pocket, though he doesn’t light it—thank fucking God. He just sticks it in his jaw and gives it a couple chews to get the nastiness flowing.
“I had a call last night,” he finally says, shifting the cigar to his other cheek. “Seems we underestimated Pedro’s business contacts.”
I shrug because who gives a fuck? “Yeah, we underestimated Maria, as proven by my souvenir, but that doesn’t make the mission any less successful.”
The Boss takes the slobbery cigar from his mouth and tosses it on my coffee table. “Toss that in the can, would ya?” He motions to Ivan—halle-fucking-lujah—because I’m not sure I’m capable of picking it up. “It seems we’re not the only American crime family he was supplying.”
“They should be glad we took care of the fucking problem, then.” I sound off, too cocky for my own good.
Pop leans forward and pins me with a deadly expression. “That’d be true … if they considered him a problem. As it is, we’ve stepped on some toes.”
“So?” I stand and start pacing, my blood singing through my veins at the first sign of conflict. “I still don’t see the problem. Our relationship with the other syndicates surely trumps anything Pedro could offer them.”
“That’s true, son,” the Boss says casually—too fucking casually—as he watches Ivan retake his seat beside Joseph on the sofa. I cringe. “But this particular family is one I snub, creating automatic friction.” Miami immediately comes to mind as the Boss takes a dramatic pause. “Needless to say, the phone call only exacerbated our already strained relationship.”
I continue my pacing, my thoughts squarely focused on my brother and the mess I’ve been ignoring. With tensions building, Madeline—and in effect, Ivan—are in more danger than ever, and I’ve not done a goddamn thing since I learned of the situation my brother put himself in. An unusual feeling swells inside my chest.
Guilt.
Squashing it like a fucking bug, I snap into action. “Ivan, I want Parks here at six o’clock sharp. I don’t care if he’s in New York right now. Tell him he better fucking show.” I give him a meaningful stare and move on to my father, retaking my seat. “Who contacted you, and what exactly was said?”
The Boss chuckles darkly and cuts his eyes to Joseph, who grabs a file from his briefcase and tosses it on the coffee table. “Their Consigliere contacted me first. We were able to arrange a call between the Bosses. Seems there’s been a mix-up in the rank and file we were unaware of.”
I grab the folder and open it to a profile of two men. The first is Ronald Kent, William’s older brother, now the Boss of the Miami Mafia. His Consigliere is an older man, apparently an uncle named Stanley Kent.
“And Ronald’s father? Roger?” I question, tossing the folder ba
ck on the table.
“Dead, I assume,” Pop says with a shrug. “Ivan, I want you to dig into them and get us more information. Everything you can find, from members to associates.”
“I’m going to put Parks on it,” I interject, trying to steer the conversation from that direction. I want my brother completely off the Kents’ radar. I level the Boss with a steely expression. “Can we expect them to make a move?”
“Not right away,” he replies, confident, and I trust his instincts, but he didn’t say never.
“Then we may have to strike first,” I respond, my mind prioritizing which avenues will need to be traveled first—Ivan, and Madeline by extension, being at the beginning of the fucking map. “Let me do some recon, and in the meantime, beef up security at the club and both buildings.”
“Sounds like a plan. For starters,” the Boss says with a nod. “Anything else?”
I stand, my day already unfolding in my mind’s eye, and give him a head shake. “Nope. Just make sure security’s in place ASAP. Joseph, I’ll see you and Anna shortly.” I turn to my brother. “Ivan, hang back for a few, will ya?”
The Boss chuckles and fucking shakes his head as he and Joseph stand. “They really think they can keep things from me,” he says, slapping Joseph on the shoulder.
Joseph returns his chuckle. “They forget how long we’ve been in this game, Boss. Don’t take it personally.”
Ivan and I both stand, staring at their backs as they move toward the elevator. They carry on the same fucked up conversation the whole way, too. Reminiscing over how awesome they are because they learned the ropes the hard fucking way.
As the elevator closes, I look to Ivan. “Pop knows about Madeline.”
THREE
LITTLE FUCKING KID
I close the final button of my custom Dior suit and brush a hand through my still damp hair, attempting to bring some kind of order to the chaotic mess. This always has been Anna’s favorite designer, and it’s my aim to please her. My heart is heavy as I mentally prepare myself to face her rail-thin frame and pain-filled eyes.
After Joseph and Pop left, Ivan and I had a serious talk about what I expect from him and Madeline moving forward. I want them to lay low, keeping to their normal routines yet not touching anything that has to do with Miami. Since the Boss is more informed than I expected, and didn’t seem pissed, I gather he trusts me to handle it.
And fucking handle it, I will.
But first, I need to see my aunt.
When I arrive at my garage, there’s another guy shooting the shit with Lorenzo. “Who’s this?” I snap, not even two steps out of the elevator.
Both sets of eyes focus in my direction, but it’s the suit who steps forth with his hand out. “The name’s Riley, sir. I’m your new security.”
First, I glare at his hand and then at the suit himself. “Then you should know that I’m not interested in touching you.”
He withdraws it immediately. “Sorry, sir.”
“You can call me Boss,” I say before turning to Lorenzo. “I’ll be taking the Porsche today.”
His brows lift. “Stefano has ordered armored vehicles only. Riley is here to drive you.”
I shake my head once. “Not for this trip. I’ll be going alone, and I’ll be taking the fucking Porsche.”
Lorenzo wisely doesn’t say anything else. He simply grabs the keys to the car and walks my way. But this stupid fucking suit grabs my arm as I turn to leave. “Sir. Boss, I can’t let ya do that.”
I grab his wrist and spin it around, exerting just enough pressure to bring him to his knees before me. “Are you sure you can fucking stop me? Because from up here, it looks like a fuck no.”
“B-Boss,” he stutters as I add just a little more pressure. “Please don’t make me hurt you.”
I fucking scoff and kick him in the chest so hard it sends him flying on his ass. “Just the fact that you had the balls to say those words earns you a little respect, but don’t fuck up and think you actually could.” I straighten and adjust my jacket. “Now, after this trip, I’ll allow you to be my driver—most of the fucking time—but this is personal. I’ll be going alone.”
Riley stays just where the fuck he is—he goddamn better—while I grab the keys from Lorenzo. “From this point forward, I expect you to make sure Piper arrives home from the club safely, Lori.” I smirk. “If that fuck, Manuel, comes near her again, ice his stupid fucking ass.”
Lorenzo’s jaw tightens. “Did he hurt her?”
“Nah,” I say with a fucking disgusted shake of my head, “but we’re lucky she’s still alive at all with him on the fucking job. Goddamn prick.”
“I’ll make sure she’s safe, Boss. You have my word.”
I give him a hard stare, frankly a little fucking confused as to why he sounds so vehement, but in all reality, I already know. She has that effect. “Good. You do that.” I nod to Riley, who’s still sitting on his ass. “And teach this fucker some manners while I’m gone.”
He chuckles and gives Riley the side-eye. “Will do.”
I step closer so only he and I can hear my words. “Also, tell Julie I want my duvet and sheets dry-cleaned and returned to my bed today.”
Lorenzo smirks. “How on earth could they have gotten dirty?”
My eyes narrow. “Just do it.”
Twirling my keys, I turn and start for my row of cars as Lorenzo’s chuckle echoes behind me. My Porsche 911 is in the fourth spot, and she fires right up as soon as I slide the key into the ignition, running like a sewing machine. Anna fucking loves this car, and it only seems right that I drive it.
The ride to Anna and Joseph’s neighborhood is smooth and fast—this baby goes zero to one hundred in six point eight seconds and whips around corners like it’s on rails. Incidentally, they live in the same posh gated suburb as my parents, so I make sure to go the long route just to avoid passing my childhood home. Wouldn’t want my mother to see me this morning.
As I pull into their drive, the somber feeling that has settled inside me is only exacerbated by the visage before me. Their house looms large, lonely and silent. Usually, Anna would be in the flower gardens this time of morning, working right alongside the help.
With a heavy fucking sigh, I leave the car and meander to the door. In normal times, I wouldn’t even knock, but since I have no fucking idea what to expect, I go ahead and hit the bell. The hollow sound echoes from inside. Just another symbol of the emptiness that lies beyond.
It takes at least a minute before Joseph is swinging the door wide, his expression even more troubled than earlier. “Is she awake?” I ask, not wanting him to disrupt her if she isn’t.
He shakes his head and waves me by. “You know good and damn well she isn’t asleep since she was expecting ya.”
My brows lift as I turn back to meet his eyes after he’s shut the door. “So she’s got some fight, then.”
“It’s complicated,” he says with a shrug. “Yeah, she’s still got plenty of spirit, but it costs her every damn time.” He moves past me. “Come on. She’ll have our asses if we take too long. She heard the bell.”
I follow Joseph up the grand staircase and down to the end of the hall. He pauses at a set of double doors and takes a deep breath before swinging them open. My eyes remain on him as long as possible before straying to the bed. Anna is sitting, propped up by a large stack of pillows, her eyes pinned on me. That same lovely smile she’s always had is shining from her beautiful but much slimmer face.
“Anna,” I say as I rush to her side. A feeling of relief overcomes me. She’s as bad as expected, but her light is still shining. I sit in the space she’s left for me and hug her as gently as I can. “I came as soon as I could.”
She grabs my hands and makes a shushing sound. “There, there, Dante. No need to be upset. I knew you’d come when you could.”
I blow out a breath. “But I should’ve been here before now. Family’s more important to me than business.” I give her a look. She knows e
xactly what I do. In her heyday, she was calling some of the shots. “I promise I’ll come once a week from here on out. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”
Her eyes narrow slightly as they rove over my face. The longer she stares, the more intense it feels. I’m almost ready to crumble under her scrutiny when she finally speaks. “Something’s different,” she mumbles, almost like she’s working on a fucking puzzle. “What’s new?”
I swallow and glance away. “Nothing. Same as always.”
Her frail hand reaches up and grasps my chin, turning me back to face her. “No. Something’s new. I can’t quite put my finger on it …”
Her words trail off, so I use the opportunity to change the subject. “I wiped out an enemy in Mexico over the weekend.”
With that fucking revelation, her clouded eyes clear up, and she leans a bit closer. “Tell me,” she says, her spark making an appearance.
I smirk as I begin my tale, making sure to keep it as dramatic as it actually was, and she soaks in every word. Her face lights up when I recall how Maria chopped off Carlos’ ponytail, and her brows pucker in the center when I tell her about my scar.
“That bitch,” she mutters.
“She’s dead. Fuhgeddaboudit.” I wave her off and continue my tale, all the way until the drive home.
Sure, Piper was waiting on me, but Anna doesn’t need to know that, though not telling her feels wrong as fucking hell. But I know her, and she’s just looking to pin me with a woman in her last days. She thinks I need one to complete my life, and that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Piper only complicates it.
We talk for a while longer, about anything I can think of to keep her off my ass, but eventually, a yawn escapes, and it’s time for me to go. I grip her thin fingers tightly in my hand and place a kiss on the top of her wrist. “I’ve loved this visit, but I think you need to rest.”
