My thoughts shattered when I spotted Grace climbing the stairs, her big brown eyes smiling at me. I loved my sister, but I had a feeling I knew why she was here.
I moved away from the window as Grace breezed in, looking as pretty as ever, with her hair in a high ponytail and wearing a tight outfit that no doubt drew the wandering eyes of every guy in the club. I was tempted to throw my coat over her, but I had to ease up on the big-brother attitude. She was a grown woman who knew how to handle herself. At least I had to keep telling myself that.
She kissed me on the cheek. “You look like you lost your puppy.”
“Maybe I did,” I teased, infusing a smile on my face that actually hurt.
She placed her purse on the bookcase along the wall adjacent to the door and twirled an imaginary circle around my chest. “You only wear a black T-shirt and jeans when you’re making a deal. Do you have a job tonight?”
“What brings you to the club?” My tone was colder than I intended for my sister.
“I wanted to talk to Joy to be sure she’s planning on attending the gala this Sunday and see if she bought a dress yet. But she’s super busy right now. You’re going, right?”
I wasn’t in the mood to rub elbows with Boston’s elite citizens, like the mayor, a few of Maggie’s cop friends, and her foster dad, Detective Ted Hughes.
Grace snapped her fingers. “Duke.”
I blinked. “I’ll be there, Grace.” Unless the shit hit the fan, as in Mateo finally having the balls to meet with me. That was, if Emilio had delivered the message like we instructed him to.
I wasn’t holding my breath, though. Less than a day after we had cut Emilio loose, his body had been found. Gustavo had nothing to do with his murder, but I would bet money that Mateo had. If I was right, it was clear to me that Mateo was telling me to fuck off and that I wasn’t getting the guns back.
Gustavo and I had our men scouring the streets for Mateo. Chris Vargas and his gang were helping as well.
“Good.” She sank into the couch. “Have you and Joy gone on a date yet?”
A dark laugh came out of nowhere. “I love you, Grace, but we are not discussing this.”
“Funny, I overheard Denim telling Dillon that Joy was here with you in the wee hours of the morning the Sunday before last.”
Fucking brother. “You shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Again, not talking about this.”
Vince knocked before he entered.
Thank fuck.
But my breath lodged in my throat when Mateo Alvarez and his right-hand man, Lou Romano, strutted in with Vince. The shock quickly wore off, and I grinned, rationalizing that Mateo had the balls I’d known he had all along.
“I found these two sitting at the bar,” Vince said in a rip-roaring, deathly tone. “Lou was playing with his pliers. They’re both clean of bugs and weapons, even the pliers.”
Lou liked to torture his victims by pulling out toenails, fingernails, and teeth with his pliers.
Two of my bouncers were standing at the doorway, ready to pluck Mateo and Lou by the scruffs of their necks and throw them to the crows on my command.
Mateo swung his gaze around my office. “Do you have any bugs in here, Duke? The last time Tito was in your club, your brother was wearing a wire.”
“Do you honestly think I would be working with the Feds? My boss would snip off my dick.”
He chuckled, his beady eyes rounding on my sister. “I’m surprised Rosario hasn’t already.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” My jaw flexed.
“You lost her shipment.” Mateo was drooling at my sister and peacocking. “You must be Grace Hart.” His skinny, denim-clad legs ate up the large space of my office as he swaggered toward her.
I was primed to throw him over the balcony outside my door if he even shook hands with Grace.
My sister, with her courage and defiant attitude, was on her feet, fisting her hands at her sides. “You’re Mateo Alvarez. Number one asshole in Boston.”
“Grace,” I warned her. “Leave us.”
