For the first time since I took over as the head of the Vitale family, I contemplate taking time off so I can spend the day fucking my wife.
My phone rings, and letting out a sigh, I dig the device out of my pocket.
“Morning,” I greet Lorenzo.
“Morning. I’m outside. Someone set one of the warehouses on fire.”
“Jesus Christ!” Leaving my mug on the island, I dart up and jog out of the kitchen. “Give me a minute.”
I end the call and take the stairs two at a time. Rushing into Yuki’s bedroom, I hear the shower running, and not giving two shits, I open the door and go into the bathroom.
The first thing I see is the hickey I gave her before my eyes roam over her wet body.
“Fucking work,” I growl while gripping her by the back of her neck, not caring that my sleeve is getting wet. I tug her closer and press a quick kiss to her parted lips. “Have a good day, my love.”
“You too.”
I rush out of her room and down the stairs again, and by the time I reach the SUV, I’m fucking pissed off.
“Let’s go,” I bark as soon as I’m seated in the passenger seat.
Lorenzo grabs an armored vest from the back seat and shoves it onto my lap. “Put it on. I’m not taking any chances today.”
While he reverses out of the driveway, I shrug my jacket off and put on the damn vest. “What’s the damage?”
“We lost two printers.”
“Fuck!” That’s going to slow down production.
The ride takes longer than usual because we hit traffic in a couple of spots. When Lorenzo brings the SUV to a stop by the warehouse, and I see the familiar sedan of the detective that’s on my payroll, I let out a sigh.
Getting out, I walk toward Jerry, who’s giving me a shiteating grin. “I got rid of the fire department.”
I stop a couple of feet from him and cross my arms over my chest. “And how much is that going to cost me?”
“I don’t know. How charitable do you feel today?”
“Don’t fuck with me, Jerry,” I growl as I take a threatening step closer. “I’m not getting to spend the day fucking my wife and need to get rid of a lot of pent-up anger. Give me the fucking amount, or I’m beating you to death.”
He holds up his hands, his expression filling with caution. “Whoa, no need for violence. Five thousand will do the trick.”
I shoot him a glare as I walk to the entrance of the warehouse while shouting, “Lorenzo, pay the fucker.”
I’m hit with the suffocating stink of smoke, and seeing my workers gathering by a table, I go to them. Maria, who’s been with us since before I was born, is cradling her arm, and when I see the ugly burn mark, my temper shoots through the roof.
“Jesus, Maria. What are you still doing here?”
“I wanted to tell you what I saw, Mr. Vitale. It was an Asian man. I was outside having a smoke when I saw him run toward the river. I did my best to put out the fire, but a pile of notes caught light.”
“You did good, Maria.” Taking hold of her wrist, I look at the wound. Glancing at the other workers, my eyes land on Asher. “Take her straight to the hospital. Right now.”
I pat her shoulder as I look into her eyes. “Take all the time you need to heal. I’ll make a payment to your account so you don’t have to worry about money while you’re gone from work.”
“Thank you, Mr. Vitale.”
Seeing her chin quiver, I add, “Tell Dr. Milazzo to give you all the painkillers you need.”
I watch her leave the warehouse with Asher, then look at Lorenzo. “Another Asian.”
