Page 3 of One for the Money

The knife’s edge we’d been teetering on for as long as I could remember was getting harder and harder to balance. Yet, I still hadn’t changed my mind on the matter of love and relationships. People couldn’t be trusted and would always do what was best for them in the end, and I couldn’t blame them. I did the same fucking thing. What use was romance? I got my needs met, fucked who I wanted when I wanted, and never had to worry about calling them after. All that mattered was both parties had a great fucking time, and that was that. The moment you let yourself love someone, you stop looking for betrayal, and in my line of work, that could get you killed.

This is why I could never let Bear be more than he already was to me. He held more of my trust than anyone ever had, and to allow him to have more than that would be handing him my life. I knew the only reason I slipped up saying what I did was because I’d come home drunk, and we fucked. Bear had never turned me away when I crawled into his bed or cornered him at a club. To make matters worse, it’s some of the best sex I’ve ever had, besides one other quick fuck at a bar that had me wishing I’d gotten his name. My Bear would give me whatever I asked for, even if it were to carve out his heart. What scared me was the thought I wasn’t sure I could survive without him at my side.

“You know the answer to that,” I bit out through clenched teeth.

Bear leaned forward and kissed my forehead before releasing me and starting the car. Turning to look out the window as we headed back to our headquarters, I felt the knife slicing into my feet as I wobbled on the edge. I needed a fight, a good bloody beatdown, to get my head right. That, and I needed to look into the intel our friend, Norbie, had shared with me. Part of me hoped he’d lied so I could use him as my punching bag—that would absolutely make me feel better.

My phone vibrated with a message from Queenie.

Queenie:

Girls’ night tomorrow. I’m in desperate need of some feminine energy.

Me:

Hell yeah I’m in. Oh, I might also have a lead on the sneaky secret sons. Fill you in when I know if it’s legit or not.

Queenie:

Perfect, talk later.

Grinning, I reclined the seat and shut my eyes, knowing we had an hour’s drive home. Yes, a girls’ night would be just the thing… after I get my knuckles bloody.

The sound of gravel under the tires told me we were back at what I would consider my home. It’s where I spent the most time and held a majority of my personal items. However, with my need to be hands-on in all aspects of my business, Bear and I traveled a lot. We had various homes and apartments all over the three largest Eastern countries where I did most of my work.

Nepreea was my home country and where I kept our headquarters. Until recently, it was the home to the five families, the founders of the criminal empire better known as the mafia. That all changed six months ago when Astin Caprioni-Raffa took out the Accardi and Leoni Families. They’d been the top dogs calling the shots, forcing the other families to fall in line or pay the price. Well, my girl, Queenie, decided she wouldn’t play by those rules and came in like a wrecking ball.

The criminal world was still reeling from the changes, unsure who or what would step into the void left behind. This fear caused everyone to stock up on goods like weapons, drugs, women, or whatever they felt they needed to keep themselves afloat. I can’t complain since this meant I was busier than ever, but there was a slight difference. The Wolf was no longer neutral ground—I’d finally picked a side when I made a blood pact with Astin.

See, a wolf knows how to survive, to do whatever it takes to come out through the storm. After meeting Queenie, I knew she was a bigger predator than I was, so the choice was easy. Not only did she treat me as an equal, requesting my help to take down the crusty, dusty men who were the puppet masters, Astin offered her own blood to prove just how seriously she took this fight and knew having me by her side would tip the scales in her favor. That, and Ivy Foxxx, a woman who trusted no one, vouched for her.

Bear pulled up to the garage, large enough to fit roughly ten cars. At one point, it had been a barn, but one of the previous owners of the estate renovated the place when it was turned into a vineyard. There’s no better way to stay off the grid than to have a legitimate business cover for what really made me my money. It also helped to explain why there were so many workers along with people coming and going, not to mention how handy it was to package up barrels with all kinds of things that had nothing to do with wine. This move had been one of my most brilliant ideas, if I do say so myself.

The property is vast, butting up to a cliffside with the ocean lapping at its borders. Terraces cut into the terrain provided the perfect space for the vines to grow in the rich soil. Down the way, you could see the ruins of a castle mostly shrouded in mist. Terrifying stories of how haunted it was kept people from venturing out there, which was exactly what I wanted. Under that so-called haunted castle was the real base of operations. Tunnels connected the castle to the main house, allowing us to come and go with no one the wiser.

Shoving open the ornately carved wooden front door, I headed straight for the kitchen. I was hungry as fuck, and nothing good happened if I was hangry. The sound of Bear’s boots clomping on the tile floor told me he was trailing after me. That’s how things went with us, though. Unless I gave him something else to do or we were sleeping, Bear was my shadow protecting my back at all times.

“You hungry?” I asked and looked over my shoulder at him.

“No, but you better eat something before you head down,” Bear said, giving me a knowing look.

While the man went through hell, he’d also be one lucky son of a bitch. The man who cut off his tongue didn’t cut it off completely, meaning Bear could still eat most food like normal. People who lost their whole tongue either needed to get a prosthetic or have a feeding tube. The stubborn bastard refused to have a feeding tube during recovery, so he figured out how to manage with what he had left rather quickly. He’d never be able to talk coherently, but when he felt the urge, he could get his point across verbally if his fists or gun didn’t do the job.

Scanning the refrigerator’s contents, I snatched up the container holding leftover pizza. That shit you can eat cold or hot, put whatever you wanted on it, which in my mind made it the world’s perfect food group. I took a huge bite and groaned at the taste, not realizing just how hungry I was.

“Fuck, why does food taste so good when you’re this hungry?” I mumbled, mouth full.

Not really expecting an answer, I walked out the back of the main house and down the steps to the pool pump room. Flipping open the metal door to what looked like a fuse box, I entered my sixteen-digit code and pressed my palm to the scanner. With a hiss and a click, a wall panel sunk back and opened, revealing stone steps leading down into the darkness. Continuing to munch on my pizza, I skipped down the steps, knowing the lights were motion-activated. This way, we didn’t have to worry about them getting left on or flipping a switch if your hands were full.

We passed the area with five waiting golf carts to drive to the castle ruins, where our warehouse of goodies was kept. The nerve center of my business was here since we needed the power from the house. It’s easier to disguise a heat signature when it’s occupied by people and the necessary equipment to produce wine. Taking a second to wipe the grease off my hand on my jeans, I slapped it to the scanner, unlocking the double doors before me. The moment I entered, everyone stopped what they were doing and focused on me.

“Can someone get Risto on the phone? I need to have a chitty-chat with that man,” I said, walking past everyone and heading for my office.

“Right away, boss,” someone answered.

It might make me an awful human being that I didn’t bother to learn people’s names unless I needed to, but the turnover rate in this business was extremely high. You see, this wasn’t a job you could just quit, especially if you worked in the nerve center. People walk in here alive and leave in a body bag, the plain and simple truth of it. No one entered this business thinking it would be all rainbows and butterflies. We were criminals supplying other criminals with weapons, supplies, and anything else they were willing to pay for. If they had the money, I was willing to do the job, no questions asked.

Plopping down in my obnoxious armchair resembling a cactus behind my desk, I waited for the phone to ring. Bear asked me why the hell I bought this ugly thing, and the only answer I gave him was I was a prickly bitch, so it was fitting. Just in time for me to swallow the last bite of my pizza, the phone rang.