“Yeah, that you need a defibrillator in the gym,” I deadpan.
Luka chuckles, but Angelo rolls his eyes. I’m almost positive he knows we spent the night together, but he says nothing.
“I don’t have time to wait for you, so Kane will bring you to the office.” He turns and leaves, not giving me time to respond.
“Guess I better go get ready,” I mutter, even though all I want to do is fall back into bed and sleep for the rest of the morning. “Enjoy your trip to Paris,” I tell Luka. Once again, he looks like he wants to say something, but my defense systems are back in place.
I’m not interested in being Luka’s casual fling while he fucks other women. It’s probably a good thing he’s leaving. Some time apart will give me a chance to figure out how the fuck I’m going to get away from this place now that I’m a proud cat mama.
42
Chiara
My head hurts after spending most of the day staring at a screen. It’s been a hot minute since I last did some serious number crunching. Mack’s books were fairly simple. My biggest challenge there had been fixing his mistakes and making sure his shady income streams didn’t see him locked up for tax evasion.
The Di Rossi accounts are far more expansive, which is unsurprising given the many interconnected businesses the family is involved in. And the data I’m dealing with only relates to the legitimate ones.
I stare at my spreadsheets while rubbing my temples.
The family has various revenue streams, with the non-legal revenue laundered through the legitimate businesses. There’s the hotel chain, with a multi-billion-dollar turnover, the family’s real estate portfolio, and several other smaller enterprises.
Credits and debits are the foundation of any accounting system. Every transaction must have a paper trail for audit purposes. If a credit has no legitimate source, it looks suspicious.
I’ve been searching for suspicious vendor payments, as this was something Ronald first flagged. There are a few, but right now, I’m more concerned about the unusual payments received.
Money being embezzled is a legitimate concern, but suspicious payments received are far worse. The feds love an excuse to follow mob money, and if the authorities get a tip-off that something’s amiss, they will launch an investigation.
“Time to go home, kitten.” Kane sticks his head inside my office. The office Angelo’s assistant helpfully assigned me. I swear it was a cleaning supplies cupboard yesterday. The small windowless box stinks of bleach, and I had to move ten boxes of lemon-scented floor polish before I started work.
“Two minutes.” I dismiss him with my hand while staring at a column of payments received. I’m missing something, but I’m not sure what.
My eye snags on a payment. When I cross-check it against the list of regular credits, it stands out as an anomaly.
“Now, kitten. All this will be waiting for you tomorrow.”
“Yay.” Despite my eye roll, I’m excited about coming back tomorrow. Even if it means sitting in a windowless room all day.
I log out and shut the computer down. Brandon, the guy who stepped into Ronald’s shoes, is still beavering away in his much nicer office down the hall, along with his nerdy assistant, Thelma.
“Bye, Chiara,” Thelma says when I place the ancient laptop on a side table. I’m not allowed to take company property home, apparently. Not sure what Angelo thinks I’ll gain from stealing a laptop so old it takes ten minutes to boot up, but whatever. It’s not like I can access the internet on it. There’s a firewall that asks for a code before it lets me view anything fun, like an external web page. I have a feeling that’s Angelo’s doing.
“Have fun, bitches!” Brandon ignores me, but Thelma peeks up and smiles.
She seems sweet. Unlike Angelo’s PA, who sneered when I asked for a pencil and notebook, Thelma’s been helpful. I may steal some of Dominic’s chocolate brownies for her tomorrow. The poor woman looks like she doesn’t get out much. A bit like me.
Kane leads me to where Angelo’s PA sits behind her desk. She ignores me.
“I just need to tell Angelo something,” Kane says. “Wait here for a moment.”
Since I have zero energy left after my early start, I wander over to a leather sofa by the window and collapse.
Cecelia taps away on her keyboard for a few moments before a tall brunette walks in carrying some files. The two women smile and chat like they’re best friends. Maybe Cecelia doesn’t see the new woman as a threat.
There’s a stack of magazines on a low table, so I pick one up and pretend to be engrossed in an article about some dude who built a multi-trillion-dollar tech startup.
“God, have you seen this?” the brunette says in a hushed voice. She thrusts a phone into Cecelia’s face.
“He’s so pretty,” Cecelia coos.
