I let out a slow breath, then push the door open. The noise intensifies, but this time, it's focused on me. Every head in the room turns, and I watch as relief washes over their faces; it's almost comical.
“Jesus Christ, Enzo, where've you been?”
“What took you so long, Lorenzo?”
“Do you have any idea what's going on?”
“Sit,” Matteo's voice cuts through the others. “We have a situation.”
The others seem to go quiet and occupy their seats as if the order was meant for them, but then again, Matteo's voice and presence command that kind of respect. He was groomed into the leadership position from the moment he was born, and although it's been more of a partnership with everyone having their role in the family business, one has to use a firm hand at times with us stubborn Rossi brothers.
“Alright,” I say, my voice calm as I walk to an empty chair. “What's the damage?”
Matteo nods and walks to his desk, leaning against it as he watches the rest of us. “Everyone I trust most is in this room,” he starts, taking a moment to look everyone in the eye. He starts with my two older brothers, Antonio and Dante, then to my stepbrother, Nico, and Luca, who was practically adopted into our family. Finally, those dark eyes stop on mine. “There's a traitor in our organization. A mole or whatever the fuck you want to call it. And I want his head!”
“What happened?”
“Someone stole another one of our shipments,” Dante, the charmer of our family, says. His mouth is set in a firm line, and I can tell he's livid. “I closed the damn deal a week ago, and the shipment was set to arrive today, but someone fucking intercepted it. Can someone tell me how the fuck a shipment just disappears into thin air? I swear to God...”
“It's not just that,” Luca, our capo, cuts in. “I've noticed a lot of things going wrong this past month. The cops seem to know a whole lot of shit they have no business knowing, and I've had to dish out more money than usual to pay them off. Thereis too much happening for it to be a coincidence. Someone is messing with us.”
Oh, everyone is pissed. How the fuck did I miss this, and why are they just telling me now? Sure, I have a lot going on—between handling IT for the legitimate businesses and being the only trusted hacker in the family, it leaves you with a shit load of work. But I could have nipped this in the bud before it got this far.
Maybe you didn't notice because your mind has been focused on a certain Norse goddess.
I shake off the thought as it comes, grabbing my laptop and turning to my brothers, “Give me everything you have.”
I listen and note down everything I'll need to check out, and as information floods in, I realize that there is indeed a mole in the organization—and they're high-level too. They have information the low ranks wouldn't know or have access to, and now, I'll have to weed them out. I question if this is something I can involve my Norse goddess in but shake off the thought. Family business is not a game.
This is nothing like the game we played two weeks ago.
A smile threatens to tug at my lips at the memory of how fired up Var had been when I asked her to participate in a CTF event with me to solve a series of security challenges. It was one of the most complex we've ever done, but watching that beautiful mind of hers work mesmerized me.
Fuck, I’ve never met anyone like her. No one on my level but Var comes close. Hell, I don’t even need to know what she looks like to know she's a beauty. I've heard her voice, and I've seen her work—two of the things that make a man's dick go hard. At least they do mine.
I want her.
A woman I have never met, but her voice and her work are enough to excite my dick. The way she gets so exhilarated when we take part in a competition together. Those little frustrated noises she makes when a challenge is too difficult, but she doesn't let me help until she has no choice.
Stubborn, she is. My smart little goddess.
I try not to think of her as I work with my brothers and strategize on weeding out the fucking virus in our organization. We work for nearly three hours, and when I finally snap my laptop closed, there is much more ease in the room. Hell, some of my brothers even start laughing as the conversation shifts from the mole in the organization to the dinner party my sister-in-law, Elena, and her bodyguard-turned-husband are hosting.
“We'll ride together to the dinner party, Enzo,” Matteo says, those dark eyes saying what his mouth does not. He wants to have a private conversation with me, so I don't even bother telling him that I drove here.
“Sure,” I say, turning to chat with my brothers as everyone starts leaving.
“We'll need to pick up Sophia on the way,” Matteo says when we head for his car, waiting until we’re inside to speak. “I want to talk to you about something I couldn’t say inside there.”
“You don't suspect one of our brothers, do you?” I ask, my voice tight. I would lay down my life for any one of my brothers, and I know they would do the same. “There is no fucking way it's one of them.”
“Not directly,” Matteo says, ignoring my sharp tone. “But I believe it's someone close to one of us.”
My brows furrow at that. “What do you mean?”
“It's not just the shipments that have disappeared or deals gone sour. Someone has been taking money from our accounts.”
My breath hitches, and suddenly, I understand what he’s getting at. Sure, we have different avenues that need funds and different people that manage those funds, but there is a tight leash on these things. Money gets lost or mismanaged here and there but nothing noticeable. My father ran a tight ship, and so does Matteo since he inherited the title. Stealing money from the mafia is not just hard—it's also suicidal.
