Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
He’s talking about stability and family and bringing me into all that, and I can’t forget that there are always ulterior motives.
It’s still tempting. I need the work, that’s for sure, and I desperately miss being a part of something. This isn’t my father’s organization and it never will be, and I’ll never really be a part of the Hayes Group no matter how hard I try, but still.
This is better than nothing.
“You sure you can have an Italian girl on the payroll?” I ask him, only slightly teasing.
“It’s not unprecedented. We’ve got a Turkish cousin, a German accountant, several lawyers of unknown ethnic background.”
“Some of the cousins won’t like it,” I point out.
He leans closer. I think he’s going to touch my face, but he keeps his hands to himself. I wish he wouldn’t.
“Good, I hope they do,” he says softly, grinning like a wolf. “Because once they start to complain, I’ll know exactly who the problems are, and we can take care of them together.”
I see him then, the man hidden under the layers of sarcasm and jokes, the sharp-toothed animal born and bred in a crime family like this one, the killer and the beast, and I can’t help but feel a spark of something ignite between us.
“All right then, but only if it’s a temporary thing. I’m not pledging my life to you.”
“Not yet, at least.” He gets up and heads back around the desk, putting it between us, transforming back into the boss. “All right then, Ms. Santoro, let’s start talking business before my next meeting arrives.”
Chapter 11
Valentina
My apartment feels small and way too quiet after the noise of Ronan’s family. I put on music to fill the silence but that only helps a little bit. I never noticed how isolated I’ve become, and it’s starting to grate against my nerves.
Back in the day, I was outgoing. I had friends at school, I went to parties, I even dated a few guys for a while before my dad inevitably scared them away. But as I got deeper into the family business, my social world got smaller until almost everyone I saw on a given day was in the Famiglia.
I can look back and see how isolating that was, especially now that I don’t have anyone left.
I throw myself into work instead. I don’t go crawling through the dirt like I did last time, but I poke around online for as much information on the Capos on my list as I can. Marco taught me a lot of this computer stuff—he’s a bastard, but he’s also one of the most talented tech guys I’ve ever met, and I guess some of that filtered into my brain despite my best efforts.
It takes all day, but in the end, I settle on two men worth checking out: Rocco Ferrero and Matteo Ricci.
I remember Rocco. He was always loud and outgoing, one of those stereotypical mafioso with a big personality and an enormous appetite. Dad never liked him much, but he was a good earner.
Matteo was a newly made Capo in the last year before my father died. I didn’t get to know him, but I remember rumors about him being ruthless and single-minded, almost to a fault.
I meet with Ronan a few days later at Bloody Strike. It’s another gray Chicago morning, and I’m relieved when the place isn’t filled with shirtless guys sparring. Instead, it’s only Seamus and Niall, plus Ronan making coffee behind the bar.
“Lovely seeing you again,” Niall says as I join them. Seamus gives me a polite nod and goes back to hunching over his phone. “Don’t mind my surly cousin there. He’s got a problem with Italians.”
“He’s working on that,” Ronan says, giving Seamus a hard look, who just ignores them both.
“It’s all right. I have a thing against Irish too, but we’re all moving past our prejudices for the sake of the family, right?” I give Ronan a sweet smile and he laughs as he passes me some coffee.
“What do you have for me, love?”
As I open up the folder I put together on Rocco, it occurs to me that Ronan’s little pet name hasn’t been bothering me as much lately. Which I don’t particularly enjoy.
I give him the rundown on Rocco’s profile. Niall’s half listening and Seamus seems like he’s oblivious to everything but whatever’s on his screen. Ronan remains on the other side of the bar, paying close attention. Almost too much attention.
“Rocco runs two nightclubs and sells meth out the back of them both. I’m not sure where he gets the supplies, but once we figure it out, that’ll be our way in.”
Ronan frowns and glances at Niall. “Who do we know that imports meth?”
“Bikers,” Niall says with a sigh. “The particularly nasty sort.”
“I had a feeling,” I admit. “I have contacts in some of the MCs from back when I worked with Marco if you’re interested?”