It was too late now.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Venezio
Getting asked on a date by Stephanie was something I never saw coming. Least of all some stuffy, lawyer-filled, fancy-ass holiday party.
It wasn’t my kind of thing.
Hell, half the people there might know exactly who I was, if they were in criminal defense. Because what defense attorney worth their salt didn’t know all the different criminal organizations in their area?
But she asked.
So I was going.
Case closed.
Even if she was right; I didn’t have a nice suit.
What I did have was a lot of experience with others who knew all about nice suits. I knew exactly where I needed to go to get what I needed. Even if I knew I’d feel like a damn imposter wearing one.
As if that shit wasn’t enough, catching Steph when she’d almost landed on her ass, then having her look up at me with those big, dark eyes for a second too long to be casual… yeah.
I was thankful for the December cold as I made my way back to the warehouse because it kept my cock from acting on the thoughts swirling around my head.
Thoughts I really needed to not be having about the woman whose organization held my potential promotion in her hands. Even if she had no idea.
I was just about to unlock the warehouse door when I saw something off toward the side where the loading dock was located that just seemed, I dunno, off.
Curiosity piqued, I tucked the key back away and reached for my switchblade instead. I flicked it open, the sound loud to my ears as I moved closer to something on the ground just out of reach of the streetlight.
It wasn’t until I was almost on it that I knew what it was.
A person.
Out cold on the pavement.
A small pool of blood was behind him as I rushed forward to press my fingers into his neck.
He had a pulse.
It was right then that I noticed what he was wearing.
A badge.
For the trucking company I was supposed to be waiting for.
He was the driver.
He’d come early.
And someone had clearly been waiting.
It wouldn’t be that big of a deal if it was just the damn toys. But that truck? That had the Family’s merch in it.
“Fuck,” I growled, jumping back to my feet and running out toward the street.
My head was on a swivel, hoping to spot the damn truck before it got too far away.
