I watch her through my doorway as she heads to the elevator with her team in tow.
Her posture is perfect, stride purposeful, and yet sexy as fuck.
She glances toward my office once she’s in the elevator. I give her a wink. She looks down, an amused smile playing at her lips as the door closes.
I already find myself looking forward to our next encounter, wondering what flimsy pretext will bring Agent Ricci back to my door.
Do I think she’s setting these up to see me?
No. I suspect she’s doing her job. But do I think she’d like to fuck me as much as I want to fuck her? Absolutely.
With the morning’s entertainment gone, I get back to work. Legitimate business today. I have a solid mix of above board and not so legal enterprises.
And I’m not at all worried that Agent Ricci or any other law enforcement person will find anything incriminating.
I’m very good at what I do. Much better than my father who was often willing to take risks usually to be an asshole or stroke his ego.
Me? I keep my head down and all the unsavory parts of my life hidden. If someone needs to be gone, they disappear, not gunned down in the street like my father would do.
As the afternoon wears on, my mind drifts to Olivia. I suspect I’m going to have a pleasurable night tonight imagining her naked. Perhaps my fantasy will have her on her knees sucking me off. I like that one a lot.
My phone buzzes, interrupting my dirty thoughts about Agent Ricci. Marco's name flashes on the screen.
"Marco.”
“Did the FBI raid your place today?" No greeting, typical Marco.
His voice carries that perpetual edge of irritation, like everything in life personally offends him.
Except of course his wife and kid.
I still can’t wrap my mind around how that happened.
I lean back in my chair, not looking forward to this conversation. "News travels fast."
"I should have heard it from you."
I want to remind him that he’s not my boss. Of any of us, although he acts like it sometimes.
"We need to talk. All of us. My place, one hour."
That means the other dons, Leo Ferraza and Luca Monti know about Agent Ricci’s visit as well.
The line goes dead before I can respond. I stare at my phone, tempted to throw it across the room.
Marco summoning me like some underling. I respect him a great deal, but sometimes he grates on my nerves.
Fifty minutes later, I pull up to Marco's upper east side residence. Security nods me through with barely a glance, they know my face well enough by now.
I head straight to his meeting room.
The other dons have already arrived, all of them looking up at me like I’m a petulant child.
Marco stands by the window, arms crossed, face hard. He acknowledges me with the barest nod.
"Gentlemen," I say, sliding my hands into my pockets like this is a walk in the park. "Lovely afternoon for a crisis meeting."
No one laughs. Tough crowd.
