Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
“What? Why?”
“Her father worked for the CPD.”
“Dario…honestly, I fucking picked her because the thought of her being away from me more hours than necessary was too much to deal with. I doubt she has any interest in our life, and I’d stake my life on that.”
He stops pacing and grins. “Good, I just wanted you to fucking admit it. As much as it all points to someone setting us up, I get that you’re fucking sprung on her. Don’t worry. I won’t touch your precious June. Although if you’re going to make her yours, you might do it soon. I have moves to make and if your relationship is well cemented, then it will benefit me.” A hint of a smile appears on his face, and I wonder what’s brewing in that head of his.
“What do you mean my relationship will benefit you?”
“I’ll explain it later. For now, get me all the information you can about the maid’s landlord. I want to know everything he does, including where he eats, sleeps, shits, and who he fucks.” It’s not my place to question his interest in her landlord directly, but I can’t fight the burn in my gut at his interest nonetheless.
“Okay.” I raise my brows but don’t say anything else.
I’m up and out of his office before I can question him about his talk with June. When he offered her a ride back to my home, I wondered why. Jealousy soared to a new level that I couldn’t explain, but I wasn’t going to question it.
When I head back to my house, June is asleep in a chair, reading a book on her phone. I pick it up and see it’s a romance book—a mafia romance. My cock beats against my slacks, and then I remember that she might have feelings for Dario.
Son of bitch. Deleting the book on her phone, I toss it on the floor beside her before storming into my office and closing the door. I take off my suit jacket, slide it onto the back of my chair, and then pour myself a glass of brandy, which I throw back in one large gulp before setting the glass down on my desk.
Rubbing my temples, I fight off a headache thinking about June and how much I want her here. Now isn’t the time for that, though, so I take a seat in my leather chair and get to work behind my desk.
Pulling her address, I run a report on the building and learn who the owner is and where he resides. Randall Johnson lives in the same building that he owns, which means I’m heading over into dangerous territory. There is no way I want June’s sister to see me digging around for information. Looking at his sleazy picture, I already have an unsettling feeling about this fucker, and I wonder if Dario knows something I don’t.
Digging a little deeper before I leave, I get my hands on Johnson’s phone records. What I find sends a chill over my body: a connection to our friend Coleman. Could he really have gotten June a job here to gain insight? Were Coleman and Johnson in cahoots with the temp agency and coaxed me into selecting June?
My doorbell rings, and I check the cameras. Seeing it’s Dario, I hit the auto unlock and he steps through. As soon as he enters my office, I can read the agitation on his face. Normally he’d just come in, so I’m assuming because June’s here, he didn’t. I’m not sure why; it’s not like she wants to fuck me.
“What have you found out?” Dario asks, undoing his suit jacket and taking a seat.
“Coleman and the landlord have been exchanging calls.”
He jumps out of the chair and paces. “I hadn’t expected that, but given the maid’s sister works at Coleman’s restaurant, it makes sense that he’s keeping tabs on her.” He’s practically seething.
“So you think Coleman and this jackass are trying to run some prostitution ring?” I ask. Given that Coleman tried to offer up one of the girls, it seems like a sound observation.
He swiftly turns around, eyes blazing with rage and barks out, “She’s not a fucking prostitute.”
I throw my hands up and scoot my chair back. I’ve never seen my friend behave this way, so uncontrolled, so erratic, for something so minor. “Whoa, I didn’t mean that.”
His eyes narrow as he presses his hands flat on my desk and looks at me with anger. “What the fuck did you mean?” I’m starting to get what the fuck is going on. He’s screwed, and so are Coleman and the landlord.
“I don’t know, but it looks like trafficking.” He cracks his knuckles and goes to my liquor cabinet, pouring himself a drink without offering me one of my own. It finally hits me why the girl in the diner looked so familiar. She’s June’s sister.