DOMINIC
I lean back in my leather chair, fingers steepled beneath my chin.
The warrant sits on my desk, delivered by my sexy nemesis, Agent Olivia Ricci.
My day has improved immensely.
"Find everything you need, Agent Ricci?" I ask, watching her direct her team through my office doorway. "Or should I offer you a drink while you tear apart my business?"
She doesn't flinch. Never does. That's what makes our little dance so goddamn entertaining.
"Your cooperation is noted, Mr. Vitale." Her voice carries a professional edge, but I catch the slight curl at the corner of her mouth that tells me she enjoys our encounters as well. "Though hardly necessary."
Her agents move through the outer offices while she stays behind, her tailored suit unable to hide curves that have featured in thoughts I shouldn't admit to having about a federal agent.
I rise from my chair, enjoying the way she stands her ground even as I tower over her. "We both know how this ends. Your team finds nothing, I get to watch you walk away frustrated, and we do it all again next time."
"Confident as always."
"It’s a pattern, Agent Ricci. How many times have we done this now?"
She steps closer, close enough that I catch the scent of her. It’s not fancy perfume like most women I know wear.
No, Agent Ricci is no-fuss. Little makeup. Her hair is pulled into a ponytail. And her scent reminds me of lavender, which tells me it’s likely soap. It’s fucking intoxicating.
"Maybe I just enjoy the view from your office." Her eyes flash with something that isn't entirely professional. "Or perhaps I'm just waiting for you to make a mistake."
I smile. "Well, that would ruin the fun, wouldn't it?"
The tension between us crackles like a live wire. Neither of us willing to break first, both enjoying the game too much to stop playing.
It’s dangerous for us both. Perhaps that’s part of the fun. Truth is, I enjoy this game we play way too much.
My mind floods with images I've conjured countless nights alone. Olivia's professional facade crumbling under my touch, her FBI-issued blazer discarded on my floor.
Her long legs wrapped around my hips as I pump into her. These fantasies have been my only sexual relief for nearly a year.
"Your team will find nothing today, Olivia.” I use her name and push a stray tendril of hair off her face, knowing it’s inappropriate, but do it anyway. She freezes but doesn't stop me.
"But you might find something if you return later... unofficially.” I finish.
Her expression remains professional, but something flickers in her eyes. It’s that flicker that keeps me hooked. Keeps me thinking someday my fantasy will become a reality.
“I’d rather stay home and wash my hair tonight.”
I let out a laugh. “Suit yourself, but you’re wasting your time. Your colleagues are currently discovering what the other teams discovered. I run clean businesses."
Olivia crosses her arms, her badge catching the light. "Overconfidence is a liability in your line of work."
"Not overconfidence. Experience." I watch her, enjoying how her professional mask slips when we're alone. "Three raids this year, Agent Ricci. Zero evidence. At what point does this become harassment?"
An agent that looks barely out of high school steps in and hands her a file. She studies it. I do too, peeking over her shoulder, enjoying feeling the heat radiating from her body.
“Going after our European connections now? The Calabresi family might take that personally,” I say, curious about her interest but again, not worried.
A quick arch of her brow tells me I’m right. This isn’t just about me. The strategy has shifted. Is it her or her boss, Agent Blackwood, changing things up?
I give her a smirk. “You and your team are telegraphing your moves. That’s your liability.”
