Irene looked up from her desk, her gaze immediately zeroing in on the folders.
“Here you go,” he said, depositing them in an open space he was certain she left for his lovingly anticipated drop-offs. “You know my system. I also closed out those files you flagged. Good catch. You had lunch yet?”
Her head was already bobbing before she processed his question. “No, sir, I was just finishing up some emails.”
Armando moved into his peripheral.
Santino dipped his chin. “Make sure you take the time. See you Monday.”
“Mon— Wait, you’re leaving again?” Irene hopped to her feet, but he was already walking. “Mr. Guerra!”
Santino raised a hand over his shoulder in a lazy wave. “Sorry, Irene. What can I say? I’ve got a new fiancée at home; I need to make sure she’s settling in.” He paused at the corner of the hall and turned his head to wink back at the predictably flustered forty-something. “You’ll meet her soon enough. Keep it to yourself for now, would you?” He continued on his way and called one final word, knowing it would force her into submission as much as it would grate on her. “Appreciated!”
Chapter fifteen
Momentum
Santino stepped up tohis invited guest as the mid-fifties businessman climbed out of his old Chrysler and clapped the man on the shoulder in greeting. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting long, Ken.” He knew he hadn’t, nor did he actually care, but he liked the older man just enough to offer the words.
Kenneth Napier grunted under his breath from the impact, adjusted the wire-framed glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose, and smiled with an always concerning lack of nerves back at Santino. “Engine’s still warm.” He lifted the quality briefcase at his side and tapped it gently, as if the sturdy lining wasn’t enough defense for the slightest impact. “I brought what you asked for, but I have to admit, I was surprised at the call. Getting a jumpstart on birthdays?”
Santino chuckled and gave his head a shake before motioning the man to follow him. “Never,” he said. “This is much better.”
Ken was a talented, if humble, jeweler who worked out of a shoebox of a shop that did nothing to represent his abilities. Some twenty years earlier, when the man had been closer to Santino’s current age, Santino’s mother had happened upon the store and entranced the poor man. The pair had dated only briefly, but while Mamma could never bring herself to commit to a new man romantically, she also couldn’t bring herself to part with a talented jeweler. So, Ken had remained on the perimeter of their lives.
As a teenager, Santino had just rolled his eyes when his mother had dumped the guy. He’d seen it coming from jump and never bothered building a connection. She was afraid of becoming too invested and enduring more heartache, like she had when his father had died. Even beyond that, she was picky as hell. And unfortunately for Ken, he was not Italian.
As an adult, Santino could see how his mother’s ways at the time had been a bit cruel. She was the product of her raising, though, and it was far too late to change that. She would always lean toward her own desires, ambitions, and whims, no matter who was tossed aside or crushed along the way. That was why he himself was the way he was.
It was also why he needed to be careful, and timely, with how he introduced Reiko to the family.
At the door, Santino paused and looked back over at his guest. “Now, I need your word, Ken. Nobody outside this house knows what you’re about to learn just yet. I’m saving the good news for dinner this weekend. Can you keep that secret for me?” The question was a type of courtesy. It should have been common sense that anything seen, heard, or otherwise learned inside the home of a mafia boss was not something those with survival instincts gossiped about.
But therewasthe chance Ken would talk to his mother.
The older man blinked at him once before his easygoing smile returned. “Of course.”
Santino nodded and led the way inside. Past the foyer, he motioned for Ken to hang back as he caught a glimpse of silky black hair over the arm of a sofa in the great room. The smile that spread across his face was instantaneous, and he didn’t bother hiding it even as his eyes cut around until he noted the profile of the guard he’d assigned her. Home was safe in theory. A guard made it more-so.
Aside from Luca, at the opposite edge of the space and watching the hall, the room was quiet and otherwise empty.
Santino moved up behind her semi-reclined position until he could see he was blocking her light. “Reading something good?”
Reiko let out a startled, choked-off sound and snapped upright as if she’d been caught misbehaving. Her bare feet swung to the floor, knees peeking out beneath the hem of the skirt she wore, and her hair slid over her neck as she twisted toward him. The loose fitted blouse looked fucking great on her, but then, he’d probably think she looked good in a rucksack.
Still, it was good he’d sent his maid to purchase a few days’ worth of clothes for her. Even if Reiko had initially objected.
“Santino! You startled me.” She set her book she’d aside and stood. “Home for lunch?”
He crooked his finger at her.
She flushed but stepped immediately up to him, her hands lifting to press against his chest. “Welcome home,” she said, softer.
His dick translated her words as an invitation and rose to greet her, which only made his need to touch her—to kiss her—stronger. So, he tucked his hands into her hips and tugged her closer, bending down to steal a lingering kiss. “I look forward to getting used to this,” he said when he pulled from her lips.
Her smile filled him with something he didn’t know how to define. Something he liked.
Santino gave her a squeeze, willed his blood to cool as best he could, and took a half-step back. “Also, I have a surprise for you.” He motioned outward and Ken swiftly ambled into proper view. The man had no doubt seen everything, of course, but that had been unavoidable.
