His mouth practically foams. “You see what’s going on. I lost a shipment. That means I have no merch, and no money for it. I can’t do business like that.”
“I understand it must be frustrating,” I say in my calmest voice. Ivan snickers at me gentle parenting a dealer, but Dom’s brows only lower. “Unfortunately, we have an agreement and I don’t do well with people breaking agreements.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to handle your business, while I handle mine.” I’m sick and tired of this shit. Yeah, I enjoy being in charge, but micromanaging every detail is getting tedious.
“Maybe you can help me again. Send a few men.”
One glance at Dom is enough to have him lift Russ from his chair and pressed into the wall, Dom’s massive forearm resting on his throat. Russ’ eyes widen to saucers. “I don’t think so. I have coddled you and held your hand for long enough. It’s time for you to fly out of the nest.” I lower my palm, and Dom’s hold on his neck loosens. “We’re done here.”
“This is fucking insane,” Russ mutters on his way out, and I barely suppress the roll of my eyes. Ivan follows behind him, greeting us with a tip of his chin.
Russ could have expected as much. Our business is based on loyalty and respect, how our father built it, but it’s still the fucking mafia and loyalty works both ways. You’re safe as long as you’re loyal to us. Once you’re not… well, that’s what Dom is here for.
Luka and I both started as enforcers, but I soon realized it wasn’t my thing. Unlike Luka, who still likes to get physical, I work much better as the voice, not the fist. Dom and I have been working together long enough to become a well-oiled machine. He knows when it’s time to turn up the heat or when to drop it to a simmer. He learned to read my micro-expressions a while back, and I did his, too. Which is why I know there’s something major bothering him and he’s just about to drop that pile of steaming shit onto my desk.
“You need something else?” I ask, already knowing the answer. There’s a storm cloud over his head, and his eyes are even more narrowed than usual.
He clears his throat, which is also a bad sign. Dom isn’t the type to stall. “I made some headway in discovering who Alex is.” He lowers to grab the manila folder lying forgotten on the chair, and my heart rate picks up. With a thud, he drops it on my desk. My eyes are stuck on the alarming folder, my hands too frozen to open it. “As you know, I had a hard time figuring out who she is and where she came from.” A sigh. “But the other day, at your apartment…” His gaze drops. “I found a hair on her dress and ran it through the system.”
“You did what?!” My hands squeeze into tight fists, the familiar burn of rage starting in my stomach. He had no right. He had no right to invade her privacy like that. Invademyprivacy.
“I did what you fucking told me. I did my fucking job.” He shakes his head, slamming the folder open in front of me.
I blink three or four times, hoping that the image in front of me will magically vanish. It’s an ID photo of an obviously younger Alex.
But her name states Alexandra Landers.
“I-I don’t…” I start to say, but Dom turns the other page. My stomach drops.
“After I found this match, I contacted the PI we hired to monitor the apartment of Landers’ daughter. Guess who was coming in and out of the building every single day?” There’s a photo of Alex carrying what seems like seven bouquets of flowers inside.
I know the building because Luka had been staking it out days before we kidnapped one of the residents. One Sophie Landers, who is now missing under mysterious circumstances, along with my brother.
“What else did you find?” I croak out, my throat tight with rage and something else.
“Her file is sealed.” He shoots me a pointed look. That would be damning on its own, even if she didn’t carry the same last name as the man responsible for my father’s death and the girl responsible for the disappearance of my brother. “But I found some things from her past. From what I found out, she’s the girl’s cousin, and Landers’ niece. She used to go by Sandy, before she changed her name.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, digging both of my hands into my hair. Alex mentioned she was close to her cousin. She conveniently left out the other part of the truth. Betrayal stings like small sharp knives lashing over my chest. A rock sits at the bottom of my stomach, planning to stay. “Anything else?”
“This is all I’ve got for now, but I’ll keep digging, now that I’ve gotten somewhere. Look, I know you haven’t wanted this, but I had this hunch I needed to follow.” Dom is ex-military, so his hunch saved his life a few times.
I dip my head because he’s right. He might as well say, ‘I told you so.’
“I’ll keep you posted,” Dom adds and leaves the office, knowing what I need.
You don’t have to be a mind reader to notice my knuckles turned white trying to dig into the desk, or that my jaw isclenched hard enough to snap in two. Drawing a shaky breath, I down the shot on my desk, and I lift from the chair to pour myself another. I barely unclench my jaw wide enough to pour the burning liquid down my throat before I launch the glass into the cabinet behind my desk.
It bursts into a million pieces with a loud crash. The relief is unnoticeable, so I take a second glass and hurl it in the same direction. This time, a few pieces of glass land on my desk, directly onto the ID photo of one Alexandra Landers. She looks beautiful in it, which adds insult to injury. Only she can look that good in an ID photo. And only she can make a fool out of a man who prides himself on controlling everything around him. I grab the half-empty bottle, take a long swig of rakia and smash the bottle, too. A strong whiff of alcohol hits my nose, and even though it’s my favorite drink, bile rises in my throat.
My feet are rooted to the spot as I breathe heavily, my nostrils flared. I’m such a fucking idiot, too blinded by two tits and an ass to see the trap I was walking into. My chest constricts, so I loosen my tie and unbutton the top button of my shirt. Anger swirls through me like a fiery dragon wanting to be fed. I grab the end of a bookshelf bolted into the wall and pull hard until I rip it out and send the books tumbling down. One book hits my foot, making me wince, but the pain is nothing compared to what I feel inside. Uncapping a fresh bottle, I chug a quarter of it before slumping down into a chair. My head falls between my knees, and my hands find their way into my hair. I tug at the ends of it, unwilling to recognize the raging dragon for what it actually is. Hurt.
I might have put my life and business in danger by spending time with her, but it’s my heart that absorbed the most damage. She started as a distraction, a sinful, sexy as hell distraction, yet she became so much more. The best part of my day was when she walked onto the casino floor. My heart would skip a beat as soon as I saw her, like a love-struck teenager with his first crush. I grit my teeth together because this was more than a crush.What I felt for her was more and that’s why it hurts so damn much.
In my line of work, you get used to being distrustful and cynical. You need to, for your own survival. But all my defenses flew out the window the night when she shared being abused by her ex. My heart officially won power of my body, making it a priority to protect her. Was her story even the truth? Or just a tale to pull me in further?Fuck, I’ve allowed her to bring a gun to my casino. To my fucking house.
I don’t even know what her game is, but it’s obvious her job was to get close to me and I made it so damn easy for her.
