Well, not every hour. I chuckled as I briefly closed my eyes, seeing my angel’s face. My lovely ballerina. “Who are you, lost angel?” And why had she suddenly dropped into my life?
Why the hell was life so damn complicated?
Where had the girl come from and more important, why was it I couldn’t get her off my mind? I hadn’t mentioned the mysterious girl to Sinclair, sensing the other news had pushed him into overload. The woman I could handle.
I’d put in a call to Irina Novikov and had yet to receive a return call. If the woman didn’t honor my wishes, I’d head to the theater. At least I knew the location where the mystery girl had gone was legitimate, the street she’d been looking for where the dancers rehearsed.
Even though at least a portion of her story checked out, my instinct was never wrong. She was hiding something.
“Fuck,” I hissed, fighting the urge to track her down like some stalker.
I’d tried to find anything out about the girl online but without knowing her name, it had been useless. Even the social media page for the ballet had nothing about the new hire.
The entire situation had nagged me more than the issue at the damn warehouse.
Because perhaps they were connected.
Adrenaline burned as it rushed through my veins, refusing to let up from the morning’s activities. I paced the floor of my office, glancing at my computer screen every so often. I’d been doing the same damn thing for several hours, not only going over employee records but also various sets of financials to ensure there weren’t any discrepancies.
With a meeting already established for the morning, I wanted all my ducks in a row.
Sergio Russo. What was the kid up to?
Of course the informants suddenly knew nothing else. Maybe the tidbit of information had been dropped on purpose. Not unheard of either. But why the woman?
“Asshole. Stop thinking about her.” As if speaking out loud would cause that to happen. I needed to think this through.
At twenty-four, Sergio was still at the age when sowing his wild oats still seemed appropriate, even exciting. However, he was old enough a tic in the back of his mind reminded him on a daily basis he was required to follow rules. His brother, the Don’s rule. Carmine wasn’t known for indulging in frivolity, considered an impatient and brutal man.
While every crime syndicate had a legacy to embrace and continue, including various acts of loyalty required by every member from foot soldier to lieutenants, only a few allowed reckless behaviors as a choice of accomplishments.
And I’d consider taunting the Prince family as careless as it got.
Given I wasn’t a man who believed in coincidences, I’d spent some time scouring the social media sights and the internet in general to see if there were any pictures of Sergio with the woman from before.
A girl I couldn’t get out of my mind.
There was no chance in hell in a city the size of New Orleans that we’d accidentally run into each other on three separate occasions. I just couldn’t figure out her angle. If only I’d taken a picture, I could have my computer experts use face recognition software. Maybe she had a record that would make her easy to find.
My inner voice laughed at me. She was a fucking ballerina. Wasn’t there some movie where ballerinas were used as the perfect femme fatales? Wow. My imagination was getting the better of me. And there went my dick again, twitching to the point of a continuous dull ache.
On our third meeting, the fancy dance around our recognition of each other had intrigued the hell out of me. Once again, I’d seen a blip of terror shaded in the darkness spooling in her eyes. However, she’d allowed her annoyance of my insistent personality to cover her primal fear.
Was it possible my sister had set us up? Well… That was an interesting concept.
My instincts were screaming it wasn’t only me she was afraid of. And her life was none of my goddamn business as long as she didn’t interfere with mine.
Groaning, I glared at the ceiling. Maybe I was making too much out of running into her. I’d caught a glimpse of her inside Indulgence, chatting with someone. I had every intention ofasking my sister if she knew the girl, but Emmeline had been busy when I’d passed through, barely offering me a wave.
My sister was a little matchmaker.
At least I’d asked the question. Now, what in the fuck was Sergio after other than money for drugs? With several hours already passed, Sergio should be on edge at this point. Unless he was hopeful we’d be the ones on edge.
I’d scoured the club, searching the existing liquor boxes for false bottoms and finding none. There was no drug paraphernalia of any kind. I’d also spent three hours going over several of the security videos, especially ones including the employees, to try to locate the person on the inside only to see nothing out of the ordinary.
The only oddity had been the woman’s appearance. Damn it. Now who was the one doing the spiraling?
Just thinking about the ballerina’s rebellious nature was enough for my balls to tighten. Christ. My eyes were strained from watching a hundred damn videos so the colorful images of the stunning girl flowing through my mind heightened the ache in my temple.
