Page 5

Okay, that felt like a lie. This was personal. It was vengeance. Retribution for Ronan Keane destroying his dream of becoming an architect, for tearing his family apart.

“I don’t care. Just…” He waved a dismissive hand toward the gleaming rows of chocolates. “Pick a variety.”

“Yes, sir,” the kid behind the counter said quickly, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Would you like to write a note?”

“Hell no!” The words came out sharper than intended, and half the customers turned to stare. Paulo sighed, dragging a hand down his face. He didn’t owe this clerk an explanation, but one came anyway, grudging and low. “It’s for someone in a difficult situation. Chocolates seemed like they might help.”

The admission sat sour in his mouth. He didn’t explain himself to anyone. Ever. And now he was explaining to a stranger why he was buying pretty chocolate truffles?

Damn it. Madelaine’s curvy ass was unraveling him one thought at a time.

“Just…whatever looks good,” he muttered, starting to turn away. But when the clerk reached for a tray of lumpy-looking chocolates, Paulo, again, spoke without thinking. “Not those.”

The clerk froze.

“Those.” Paulo pointed at a tray of truffles with delicate patterns etched on top. Then his eye landed on another set, capped with tiny roses. “And those. Several.” He stalked down the counter, pointing brusquely at glossy truffles, caramels dusted with cocoa, squares wrapped in gold foil. The clerk scrambled to keep up, hands shaking as he shoveled confections into a box.

By the time they reached the end, the box overflowed. Paulo glowered at it. “You’re going to make that look…nice, right?”

Nice? Pretty? Why the hell did he care if the chocolates were pretty? They weren’t a gift. They were…

“Absolutely, sir!” the clerk replied, placing the box onto the scale.

Paulo eyed the pile of pretty chocolates, wondering what Madelaine would think of them.

Temptation. Just like her lush, sweet hips.

He froze, teeth grinding. He did not like her hips. Or her ass. Or the way she smiled when she thought no one was watching. She was bait. That was all.

“Have that delivered today,” he snapped, dropping his credit card onto the counter.

The clerk pressed some buttons and the price came up on the screen. He glanced at the total, then swallowed nervously. “Do you want me to put some back?”

Paulo blinked, genuinely baffled. “Why?” He shook his head, shoving the pen across the receipt. “No. Just make it all look nice.”

He stuffed the credit card back into his wallet and strode out of the shop, scowl firmly in place.

But damn it all, he felt a little better.

The rest of the afternoon played out with routine efficiency. Paulo met with the chief of police, agreed to smooth over the mess with the sergeants, then sent the man away with his gratitude, and another debt owed.

After the door closed, Paulo called in James, his enforcer. “Make sure those officers understand they won’t get away with any more nonsense in their performance.”

James gave a sharp nod. “Got it, boss.”

“And I expect to hear examples,” Paulo added, leaning back in his chair. “Examples of how they’re improving their service to the communities they’re supposed to protect.”

“Understood.” James turned and left without another word.

Paulo sat for a moment, satisfied. The bad cops would be properly leashed, and he’d collected another favor from the chief. It wasn’t an abnormally productive day, but there was still a strange hum of anticipation under his skin. Irritating, since he couldn’t pin down why. After walking out of his office, he stepped into the waiting SUV, still trying to understand why he was feeling so…strange.

“Heading out for dinner, boss?” Andy asked as they merged into the evening traffic. “I heard some of the guys are going to Vito’s tonight.”

Paulo considered joining his men for all of a heartbeat. He often dined with his capos, consiglieres, and soldiers. He preferred sitting across a table from them instead of hearing updates and reading reports. He could give them advice, measure their ambition, and see in their eyes if they were lying. It was how he kept his organization strong, profitable, and free of the two things he wouldn’t allow; hard core drugs and sex trafficking. His men had resisted at first, but now they saw the benefits.

“Home,” Paulo ordered.

Andy glanced in the mirror, brows lifting just a fraction.