Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” he quips without looking up. “Speaking of, you’re still coming to dinner tonight, right? I already told Val you’re going to be there.”
Right. I didn’t forget about the dinner, but I did forget about Nico’s little sister. I saw her once, at their parents’ funeral. A horrible day for both of them, so it was no surprise she was cold and distant. Then again, I don’t know her well enough to know if that’s just how she is.
Matteo appears in the doorway just then. I look up. “Shouldn’t you still be with Vince?”
“Oh, that guy folded like an accordion.” He grins. “Barely pulled out my tools before he told me everything I needed to know.”
He tosses me his phone. “I got it all on camera for ya.”
“I don’t need to be part of this conversation,” Nico says, already standing.
Nico knows about our less legal operations, but he chooses to stay out of them. It helps cover us legally, and he just doesn’t want to know. He told me a long time ago that it’s easier to be my friend when he pretends I’m not a Mafia boss.
“Before you go,” I say, stopping him. “Set up a meeting with Carlo Marchetti.”
“I assume that’s a professional meeting.” He smirks.
“Of course,” I reply with a shrug. “What else would it be?”
He gives me the finger as he walks out, already typing something onto his iPad.
Matteo studies me for a second after Nico leaves. “Darren?” he asks.
“In the unemployment line, I assume.” I shrug. “He wasn’t a bad guy. Just a bad manager.”
He nods. “Letting Vince stew a little longer,” he says, sounding bored. “Can’t let him off easy just because he spilled his guts.”
“Keep it quiet,” I remind him. “I don’t normally like to deal with that shit here.”
“Want me to move him to the warehouse?” he asks, meaning our usual spot for this kind of thing.
“Your call,” I say. “You’re good at figuring out if someone’s a legitimate threat or just a hapless idiot. He may not need much more convincing.”
Matteo smirks. “He almost shit his pants when I pulled out the saw.”
I chuckle. “Good. You coming to Nico’s tonight?”
“Yeah, looking forward to not having to cook myself.”
“His sister’s coming,” I tell him.
“Forgot she even lived here,” he says, glancing down at his nails. “She hot?”
“I think Nico would kick your ass for even asking that question.”
“I don’t think Nico would win that fight.” He smirks, and we both know he’s right.
After a moment, I press my call button. “Send in Chef Stanley,” I tell my assistant.
Time to deal with my third problem of the day.
3
VALENTINA
By the time I pull up outside Nico’s house, I’m already irritated.
Part of it is traffic. Part of it is the fact that I had a perfectly valid excuse not to come. One of my clients called in a panic over centerpieces she hates for an event only six weeks away. I was ready to spend the evening walking her through options, but Nico shut that down immediately.
“You can fix it tomorrow,” he’d said firmly. “Six weeks is a lifetime.”
I’d laughed at him. “Not in the event space, Nico. Six weeks is basically a day.”
“Well, five weeks and six days isn’t going to kill her, but I might kill you if you don’t show up tonight.”
I rolled my eyes, but I had one of my assistants meet with her in my place. Delegating doesn’t come easy to me, but it’s the only way to be in two places at once.
Most of all, I’m irritated because Nico knows exactly how to make me feel twelve years old no matter how old I actually am. One remark from him about family obligation, and suddenly I’m grinding my teeth in the car like I’m on my way to detention.
Nico’s house sits in the hills in a quiet, expensive neighborhood. The landscaping is perfect, the windows glow warm against the dark, and two black SUVs are parked out front that must belong to his boss, Sebastian.
I know who Sebastian DeLuca is, of course. Billionaire owner a massive conglomerate of nightclubs, restaurants, and hotels. Always ranked on Forbes’ 100, considered one of LA’s most eligible bachelors.
What Nico never talks about are the rumors of Sebastian’s Mafia ties. In another life, I might have laughed them off and said people need to mind their business, but that was before Adrian. Now I don’t discount anything, and the SUVs parked out front don’t give me any peace. Neither do the guards standing by Nico’s gate.
I grab the bottle of wine I brought out of politeness, check my lipstick in the mirror one last time, and tell myself I’m being ridiculous. This is dinner with my brother, not a death sentence. He’s all I have now, so these dinners matter.
I walk up to the front door which he opens before I can knock twice.