9. Vito

9

VITO

F or the thousandth time that morning, I was thinking about the look on Zeke’s face as he came. A knock on my office door made me jump. My chair tipped back, and I almost spilled onto the floor.

“Are you okay?” Lonnie asked. She was the receptionist for our “insurance” office where we sold just enough insurance to post a believable amount of business to the IRS. Otherwise, we used the offices for our much more lucrative loan business. It was a type of insurance for those who used our services—insurance against bankruptcy or a fate worse than owing us. Of course, for those who couldn’t pay their debts, the collection might prove rather painful.

“I’m fine, Lonnie. I was just…thinking.”

“Oh. Well don’t do that if it’s dangerous. I thought you might have fallen asleep. Figured you were out late last night as usual.”

Lonnie sometimes forgot that she worked for us rather than the other way around, but she got away with it because her father had been one of our most loyal guards. He’d laid down his life for Lucien’s father, so Lonnie would always have a place with us.

“I got you a new customer,” she said. “He’s looking for something big.”

“Can’t you give him to Val?”

“No, Val’s out of town, remember?”

“Shit. Fine.” The last thing I wanted to do was negotiate with some in-debt asshole.

“Meet him at Cam’s Bakery at noon.”

“Will do.” At least I’d have a chance to go watch Zeke play this afternoon. After this appointment, I didn’t have any other pressing business.

Lonnie frowned at me. “Are you sure you’re all right? You’ve seemed distracted for days now.”

I waved a hand to dismiss her concerns. “I’m fine. You’re right. It was a late night last night.”

She frowned. “Maybe you should stay in tonight and get some sleep. You know how Dom feels about you being focused on your work.”

Pops was really big on focus and had no idea how to have any fun. But that shouldn’t mean I couldn’t have a life. “I’ve got things under control.”

She raised her brows.

“That’s all, Lonnie.”

“Sure, but if you need to talk later….”

I sighed, she really meant well. “Thanks. I’ll ask if I need something.”

“Do that.”

I actually considered calling her back and spilling everything, but she’d think I was crazy. Anyone I told would think I was crazy, except maybe Devil. I was fairly sure that meant I had actually lost my mind, but I wasn’t going to stop myself. I was going to keep pushing and see what I could get away with. If I could kill someone, ditch the body, and move on like nothing happened, then I could get away with a little light stalking. It wasn’t like I was actually going to hurt Zeke; I was going to make him feel really fucking good.

I took care of some boring paperwork, made a stop to collect a payment from a customer—fortunately for her, she actually had the money—then headed to Cam’s Bakery. I walked behind the counter, helped myself to a cannoli and a coffee, and headed to the office in the back.

“What the fuck?” Cam asked when he saw me waltzing through the kitchen.

“I’ve got a meeting.”

“This isn’t an open buffet.”

“Seriously? You can’t spare one of your famous cannoli for family?”

Cam rolled his eyes. “How long is this meeting going to take?”

“Why? You got business of your own to take care of back here?” We often used a room in the back of the bakery to meet people we hadn’t vetted and didn’t want in our “legitimate” office.

“No, but I’ve got customers, and if things get?—”

“It’s nothing like that, just a basic contract negotiation.”

“There’s nothing basic about this family’s business.”

I laughed, and he flipped me off as I disappeared into the office. I’d polished off the cannoli and most of the coffee when there was a knock on the door that opened into the alley behind the bakery. At least the guy knew how to follow instructions.

“It’s open,” I called.

The knob turned slowly. Oh good, a nervous one. That would make this go much better. Nothing was worse than assholes who thought they were entitled to money or the ones who thought they had to act as tough as me to be taken seriously.

I was typing a message on my phone as the door creaked open. When I looked up, my mouth dropped open.

Zeke stood there staring at me.

He looked fucking delicious in a pair of tight, worn jeans, a black T-shirt, and his black leather jacket. I’d only ever seen him in hockey gear or a team shirt and jeans.

For a moment I thought he’d decided to track me down. Then I realized he was the one who needed money.

He needed my money. I smiled. “What can I do for you?”

“You…you work for the Marchesis?”

How remiss of me. I should have told you my full name. I held out my hand for him to shake. “I’m Vito Marchesi.”

“No.”

“I wouldn’t say that to my father. He might take issue with you.”

“This was a mistake.” He turned around and reached for the doorknob, but I was behind him before he could turn it. I held the door closed, my body heating as I pressed against his back.

“Move,” he demanded.

“I don’t think so. You need my help, or you wouldn’t have come here.”

“I didn’t know it was you.”

“That was obvious.”

“I made a mistake. I’ll handle this myself.”

“But I’d like to help.” I said the words right against his ear and was rewarded with a shudder.

“I can’t… Let me go.”

“No. That’s a terrible idea. Borrow the money you need from me and let your body have what it wants. You’d enjoy that so much more.”

“Dammit, Vito. Let me go.”

I liked my name on his lips. “Not until you tell me why you’re here.” If he was in trouble, I wanted to know about it. No one was going to hurt him. No matter what he had done, we’d work out a solution. I wasn’t supposed to get personal with clients, but my brother had gotten away with it, and I fucking would too.

I waited several seconds. When he stayed quiet, I said, “You need money.”

“Obviously.”

“I’ve got lots of money to give you.”

“I would never have come here if I’d known you… That your family… Please just leave me alone.”

I stroked the side of his face with the back of my hand. “Tell me why you need money.” He shivered and I pressed myself against him harder. “I’ll take care of you.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know I want you.”

“That’s…” He shook his head. “Not what I’m looking for.”

“So sit down and tell me what you are looking for.”

“No. I can’t get involved with you.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “I’m afraid you already are.”

“You’re stalking me. I didn’t ask for that.”

“No, but you came here today. You called my family for help. We don’t like when people stop by and then don’t do business with us.”

“Great, now you’re fucking threatening me.”

“Baby, you called the Marchesis to borrow money; what did you expect?”

“Let me go.”

I released him, but he didn’t open the door. I had him. He wanted to stay. He wanted to talk to me. He was desperate, and God help me, I was going to take advantage of it.

“Come sit down. Do you need something to eat or drink? The coffee is good, and the cannoli are fucking amazing.”

He shook his head as he sat. “I can’t eat anything right now.”

“All right, but you’ve got to keep up your strength. You’ve got practice later.”

He slid a hand across his face and pushed back his hair. “Don’t fucking remind me.”

“I’ll do better than that, I’ll drive you there.”

“No. Stay away from the arena.”

I leaned back in my chair, put my feet up on the desk, and crossed one over the other. He shifted in the chair, looking everywhere but at me.

Finally, he spoke. “I got into some trouble in Vegas. I was stupid. I earned too much money too fast, and I blew it at the fucking casinos. As I’m sure you know, I make a hell of a lot of money. I’m not squandering it anymore. I can make payments, but I need to settle my accounts back there.”

I narrowed my eyes as I studied him. “Who did you borrow from, and why should I believe you’ll pay us when you ran out on them?”

“It doesn’t matter who, and I’ve got things under control here.”

“Then why not use the money you have to send payments to Vegas?” He twisted his hands together and looked down at his feet. “Zeke, how far behind are you?”

“Too far.”

“Are they threatening you?”

He nodded, and the pain in his eyes made my chest tighten. I knew right then that I wasn’t going to let him go, not now, and not after we’d fixed his problem.