As I came down the stairs, I was hit with an amazing smell. My stomach growled, and my mouth salivated.
What in the hell was Bella cooking? It smelled divine.
I expected to find my angel on the couch, catching up on some stupid girly show that Haley and Gwen mentioned the other night at dinner, but no, Karina was in the kitchen cooking as the sun set on the lake outside. I leaned against the wall and watched her. Her blonde hair was piled on top of her head, and she was in one of my black button ups. She had her headphones in, and her head was bouncing to the beat as she chopped up vegetables.
The scene was very…domestic.
I never had a woman who wasn’t under my employment cook for me. Minutes passed, and I found myself in a state of awe, watching her move around my huge kitchen, oblivious to her demon lurking in the shadows.
Suddenly, the hair on the back of my neck stood, and my body went on high alert, but I remained still, my eyes on my angel.
“If you think blowing my head off in front of your sister is a good idea, then go for it. But you and I both know she shouldn’t see this,” I said calmly, knowing that she couldn’t hear me.
“We need to talk.”
“I agree, but are we going to conduct the entire conversation with your gun to the back of my head?” I asked.
In the hospital, he said he would let the strain between us go because I saved his sister. However, Jeremy Jones was a man of darkness, like me. Revenge was our favorite dish, and I knew he would make his appearance eventually.
A moment later, the pressure was gone, and I slowly turned around to face Jeremy. He was dressed in all black, and his brown eyes held a burning rage within them. I gestured to the stairs.
“We can talk in my office.”
Once we were inside, I rounded my desk and lit a cigarette. As I inhaled the smoke, some of the tension in my shoulders dissipated. I slammed the desk drawer shut and tipped my head to one of the chairs in front of it. “Please.”
The man eyed me, his gun still raised. “You're supposed to be the most dangerous man in the country. Why are you treating me like a guest in your home?”
“Because I am a monster with manners, Jeremy,” I deadpanned, the smoke drifting out from my lips. He took a seat, but his gun remained pointed at me.
“I see you got past my guards,” I said, looking at the computer screen and pulling up my security system. My brows came together as I saw that each were unharmed and at their stations.
“I told them who I was, and they let me by. Kay gave them a list,” he explained.
“I see.”
“You had my record cleared.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you are important to Karina, and she is the most important thing to me. She gives my existence meaning,” I said as I took my seat.
“How’s your chest?” he asked, his eyes dropping to where I was shot.
I smiled wickedly. "I think I could handle another bullet or two.”
“Dean told me about the offer you made him.”
I nodded once, looking to the blank space on my office wall where my father’s portrait once hung. “I need someone who has a passion for the game. Dean has been on both sides of sports gambling. He's the right person for the job.”
“So, the mafia will still be in control of the MLB?” he asked, his gun lowering a bit.
I blew the smoke out. “We control a lot more than that, and you know it.”
Silence stretched between us.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” I drawled, putting out the cancer stick. A bullet to the heart didn’t kill me, so why in the hell should I be worried about some fucking tobacco?
