Page 99 of Unlock My Heart

Arriving at my office, I fall into the chair behind my desk. My head lands in my hands. Having just pretended to be a man in bed, now I’m fooling myself by pretending to be a boss.

My phone buzzes, and I grab it from my pocket. There’s a video, and I open the thumbnail, the floor beneath my feet having disappeared.

It’s a recording of Chantelle and me fucking in the hotel room.

There’s nothing you do that I don’t see. You thought you were going to build your own Calvani empire and undercut mine? Who the fuck do you think you are? You’ll earn the scraps I give you, boy. Do you understand me?

Ever the good little bitch, I reply to Vitto.

Understood.

Fabien

The present

“Delivery of this letter takes priority; Sienna takes priority.” I fold the paper and pass it to Saint.

“Understood.”

Sadly, I’m the one who didn’t understand it, and here we are.

The meeting with my attorney comes to an end, and I get back to the mind-numbing schedule.

“Welcome back,” Kirksey greets me as I join him in the yard, and the pitiful excuse for a patch of grass.

“Tell me why the package wasn’t delivered at Lundi Gras?” I seethe.

He lifts his shoulder. “The good times did not roll?”

“Do I look fucking amused?” I tell him between my teeth.

“No, but you should be laughing.”

“Waiting for the punchline,” I tell him impatiently.

“Ahh, but the punchline will be Angelo when you deliver the message yourself, should you get an early release.”

I shake my head. “Not with the way my sentence was worded. I’m not eligible for parole.” Vitto is getting the last laugh from the grave, having owned everyone in my case, including the judge and my former lawyer. Yes, I fucked up in the way I handled Ringer, but I’m doing ten years because my old man declared it so. “Trust me, my lawyer has already barked up that tree.”

“Might want to bark up that tree again. Word is the warden is itching for early retirement. ‘Recalculation’ of time served could be on the table, for the right price. No parole necessary.”

“Why tell me and not take the deal yourself?” I point out.

“Sadly, my pockets aren’t that deep, or I would’ve snatched it up. But say you get out early: a surprise family reunion.” He lays it out with the flourish of his hand, like a used car salesman.

My arms crossed, I consider. “I don’t have a crew to pull off that kind of delivery.” Ex-military security detail plus family soldiers? I’m not down for a suicide mission.

“But I do. For the right price,” Kirksey amends.

“And there it is,” I say dryly.

He holds up his hands. “Hey, you don’t think I got this far on my good looks?”

I chuckle. The man admittedly has an ugly mug. “What are your terms?”

“An introduction with your family’s ski instructor, and I keep the delivery payment as a show of goodwill.”

“The goodwill, I’m fine with, but no on the introduction.” No fucking way I’m giving up our supplier’s identity and losing my family’s place as solo distributor for the Gulf Coast. “But I’m happy to offload some ski equipment.”