See what I mean? And no. He just dances there.
Is his real name Bailey?
Why do you want to know?
"Fucking hell," Nathan said exasperatedly as he glared at the screen. Apparently, their little tit-for-tat earlier still had the younger man's thong in a bunch.I'm not going to hurt him. I'm just interested.
All the more reason for me not to tell you shit. Bailey is just dancing there until he works off his debt. He doesn't need any more men like you in his life,Zindel replied.
Nathan rolled his eyes.You don't get to make that decision for him. And for the record, you don't know me well enough to make these generalizations.
Are you not a killer?
So? Isn't your man also a killer?
He is, but I'm not like Bailey. I like my men dangerous. Bailey doesn't need your lifestyle in his life.
Who are you to speak for him?
Then find out what you want to know about him on your own. Bye!
Nathan read the last text from Zindel and chuckled. "That little bitch," he said under his breath. It would seem that Vito Castiello likes his dish hot and spicy. Fine then... he'd take Zindel's advice and find out everything he wanted to know on his own. Tracking down his targets was what he excelled at.
Chapter five
Enzo "The Prince" Castiello
"Whatdoyouthinkhe wants from us?" Vincenzo "Cenzo" Rossi asked Enzo as he peered out of the window overlooking the city below. He had a deep, masculine voice with an Italian-American accent, having been born and raised in the country. Like most men in the Castiello family, he had those smoldering dark looks that enticed as well as sparked fear in the hearts of those on whom they set their sights.
Enzo Castiello typed a few words on the keyboard before sending the email to his business associate. "Don't know. His people were very discreet about it over the phone. I still don'tknow if I'll help the asshole. He's a fucking racist and bigot. The only reason my father works with him is because of his position in the government. If his ass doesn't win his election come midterms, I'll happily put a bullet between his eyes."
Cenzo chuckled. "Being a senator has its perks; plus, he's also very rich."
"It's not like we're hurting for cash, Cenzo." Enzo tossed his cousin and best friend an annoyed look.
"True, but he pays well."
"All money isn't good money," Sergio said as he picked at his nails with his knife.
Both men looked at him.
"You're sixteen years old; what the hell do you know about it?" Cenzo asked him.
Sergio shrugged. "Just saying, if you don't feel good about taking his money and would rather take his life, I'd understand."
The two adults in the room laughed at that, and Enzo nodded. "It's true; all money isn't good money, but all money is dirty. Either someone had to suffer to earn it, or someone made another person suffer to make it. It's all relative."
The knock on the door interrupted their conversation.
"Come in," Enzo called out, and the door opened.
His assistant stepped inside. "Senator Ronald Abbot is here," she said.
"Send him in," Enzo said.
"Yes, sir," she replied, and the next person to enter was the senator, accompanied by his bodyguard and a female in a crisp suit, most likely his campaign manager or perhaps his lawyer.
Enzo's assistant closed the door, and he gestured for the senator to take a seat, to which the man obliged. "What can I do for you, Senator?" he asked, getting right to the point of the meeting.
