Chapter Two

Athena

Standing in front of Diego Butera is like standing in front of the sun. He's one of the most powerful men in this city. He's rich. And he's gorgeous. I've seen more than my fair share of photos of him in the last two weeks, but they did not prepare me for this reality.

He towers over me, powerful and fierce…dark from head to toe. Messy dark hair and an olive skin tone pair perfectly with obsidian eyes and a five-o'clock shadow. Even his suit is dark; black jacket, black tie, black slacks. It probably cost him more than I make a year. He wears it well. Too well, perhaps.

He plays the debonair lawyer to perfection, and it's distracting as hell. He's distracting. I'm never off my game, but I've been reeling this entire meeting. My heart pounds with nervous excitement, as if I'm meeting a potential date instead of a member of the mafia.

Despite knowing his file inside and out, he's still not what I expected. He was an informant, but he's been radio silent for the last year. It doesn't bode well, considering he's one of the biggest criminals in this city. The man is a monster if his file is to be believed, but he looks like a Gucci model. He's also charming and intelligent.

It's disorienting.

"You're a fucking fed," he growls, his expression darkening.

"I believe the term you're looking for is federal agent." I tuck my shield back into my pocket, out of sight. "If that's the case, then yes, I am."

"How old are you?"

I bristle at the question and his sudden hostility. Two minutes ago, he was flirting hard enough to make my stomach flutter. Now, he's hostile and suspicious. I suppose I should have expected it. It's nothing I haven't heard before. No one wants to talk to the FBI, especially not the mafia.

Even fewer seem to want to talk to me. I'm twenty-five. As far as most people are concerned, that makes me a baby. They certainly don't think I'm old enough to be a federal agent. I don't have enough fingers and toes to count the number of times I've been called cute in the last two years.

They usually switch to something else once they're in cuffs. It's equally as offensive, but at least it's not patronizing. My boss, Dennis Respert, is worse than our suspects. He's been dying to get rid of me since I was transferred to his field office three months ago.

As far as he's concerned, I'm too young, female, and dainty for the job. I belong behind a desk, answering phones while the men do the heavy lifting. He's old-school misogynistic and makes no secret about it.

Giving me an errant informant and mobster no one can crack right out of the gate is a surefire way to ensure I fail. I get to waste my time plucking at threads that the task force has already pulled for the last year. And when I inevitably fail, Dennis gets to gloat and say he was right about me. It's a win-win for him.

I should have quit as soon as he handed me the assignment…except I've never been one to let anyone decide what I'm capable of doing. If Dennis wants me out of the FBI, he really shouldn't have thrown down a gauntlet. I'm too stubborn not to pick it up. If he wants to fire me, I'm going to make him work for it.

And if Diego Butera thinks I'm too young to pose a threat to him and his boss, he needs to think again. I've spent the last two weeks reading his file backward and forward. If it's in there, I know it by heart.

"My age isn't your concern," I state firmly.

"It is when you're going to get eaten alive." He scowls, shoving a hand through his hair. "Jesus Christ. Did they at least send you backup?"

"Are you suggesting I'm incapable of doing my job without help, Mr. Butera?"

"I'm suggesting that you're a kitten walking into a lion's den, Athena," he growls. "Have you ever worked a RICO case? Do you know anything about the mafia?"

At least he's not going to deny being connected to the mafia. That ship sailed a long time ago. We all know he's a Made man. We all know who he works for, too. It's been common knowledge for years. He went to law school with an agenda. The ink hadn't even dried on his degree before he was back in the streets, swearing fealty to Rafe Valentino.

He's spent most of his career defending the Valentino family against any charges we throw their way. And then, a few years ago, he flipped. No explanation, no reason. He just started passing on info about little things. Never enough to bring Valentino or his brothers down. But just enough to keep us clued in on what was happening here.

A year ago, he stopped informing as suddenly as he started. Tommaso Genovese and three dozen of his men ended up in graves, his granddaughter married Luca Valentino, and Diego's sister married Rafe Valentino. Diego went radio silent immediately after. The events are connected. We just don't know how.

Diego knows. I think he was probably in the thick of it. But he isn't talking. No one is, including Genovese's family.

"You haven't, have you?" he demands incredulously.

"That's not your concern, and I know more than enough about the mafia." I slip my hands into my pockets, craning my head back to look up at him. "For instance, I know that Rafe Valentino may be responsible for the death of your biological father, Dario Marchesi. I also know Valentino's wife—your sister—is the long-lost Cerrito principessa." I hold his gaze. "But you already knew that, too, since you and your adopted father hid her from everyone for most of her life, didn't you?"

Seraphina Cerrito's parents were killed in a house fire when she was a toddler. She ended up in foster care. Everyone lost track of her after that. But she turned up again last year under the name Amalia Santiago, claiming to be Diego's sister. No one even knew Diego had a sister, let alone one connected to the Cerrito family. He'd been hiding her for years.

What else has he been hiding from us? That's what we'd really like to know. He's at the heart of everything that happened last year, but we don't know how the pieces connect yet. I fully intend to figure it out. If he's still a threat, we need to know it.

We were wrong about him once already, which nearly resulted in a war we never saw coming. We can't afford to be wrong again.

"Do you have a point?" Diego asks.

"Who were you hiding her from, Mr. Butera? Tommaso?" Given that Rafe Valentino married her, I don't think he was hiding her from the Valentino family.

He eyes me levelly, not speaking.

"Is that why he's dead? He found out who she was and went after her?"

"Tommaso Genovese is dead because he was a rabid dog," he growls, his eyes flashing unholy fire. "He was born a rabid dog and died a rabid dog. The world doesn't mourn him, Athena. Not even his family mourns him."

I don't think he's entirely wrong about that. Genovese wasn't even cold in the grave before his granddaughter married Luca Valentino, a union that stopped whatever war his death almost started last year. Their families have been at peace since. By all accounts, the world is better off without Genovese in it. But the FBI is in the dark…and that's the one place we don't like to be, especially when men like these are involved.

"You're going to have to talk someday."

A wicked smirk steals across his face, turning him from debonair lawyer to deadly devil in the blink of an eye. "Yeah? You think so, bella?" He leans down over me, getting in my personal space. "Tell you what, I'll make you a deal."

"W-what deal?" I lick my lips, trying to focus as the rich, decadent scent of his cologne swirls around me.

He leans closer, so close his breath washes across the side of my face, warm and intoxicating. "The day you agree to ride me soft, I'll agree to answer any questions you want me to answer."

I gasp, jerking backward in shock. Without even thinking about it, I lift my hand, prepared to slap him across his smug, gorgeous face. He catches my hand in his fist, using it to pull me into his arms.

"Hit me, and you'll be wearing my marks all over your body when you walk out of here," he growls, his eyes twin pools of obsidian flame. "Think you'll be able to explain that to your bosses?"

I jerk against his hold, my heart hammering. I'm not afraid of him, though. Perhaps I should be. But I'm too mad to be afraid. "Let me go right now, Diego. Before I arrest you for assault."

"Don't call it what it isn't, goddess." He brushes his lips against my ear. "We both know if I checked your panties right now, they'd be soaked. You fucking love the fact that I just touched you."

I growl a curse, yanking my arm free of his hold. He's right, damn him. And I think I may hate him a little bit for knowing it. I also think I was right earlier. Diego Butera is one of the most dangerous men in this city.

I just didn't realize he would be a personal danger to me.

"Walk away, Athena. Before I decide not to let you walk away at all."

"Is that a threat?"

"No. It's a warning, bella. Walk away."

"I'm not going anywhere, Diego."

"Fine." He steps back, his heated gaze running over me. "See you in the morning, beautiful," he says, tipping an imaginary hat before striding away.

I wait in my car until Diego pulls out of the garage in his Bentley and then follow behind him. I don't make a secret of it. Trying to tail him without being seen is pointless. I'm sure he has far more experience at this game than I do. He's the freaking mafia. I've spent my career to date dealing with scammers and low-level cybercrimes.

This is my first actual case, and it was given solely as a means to an end. My boss is probably praying right now that I screw up enough for him to have cause to fire me.

Quite frankly, I hope he trips and falls on Legos tonight.

I follow Diego through the Loop at a snail's pace. Traffic is as heavy as ever, slowing progress to a crawl. A breeze blows through my cracked window, bringing a dichotomy of smells…the faint hint of chocolate from the factory, the sharp scents of the city, and the freshwater and fishy smell from the Lake.

My phone rings as a young couple stumbles through the crosswalk ahead of me, arm in arm. I glance at the navigation screen and then hit the button to answer when I see my brother's name.

Maybe he can distract me from Diego's filthy threat.

Maybe talking to him will help me convince myself that I didn't like anything about the things Diego said to me. Except…I'm honest enough with myself to know part of me liked it a little too much.

He's a criminal. You're a federal agent. Forget it, Athena.

"What are you doing?" Ceres demands as soon as I answer the call.

"Working. What are you doing?"

"Working. Remind me again why we told Ma we wanted to grow up?"

"Uh, I'm pretty sure you told her that because you hated being told what to do. I never told her that. I was perfectly fine being spoiled at home and having no bills," I say, smiling. Even as a kid, Ceres was a handful. He wanted to do everything his way. How he ended up in the military, I'll never know. It was the last thing any of us expected of him.

I kind of expected him to be a rockstar or something crazy, to be honest. He had that restlessness about him. I guess he was always a little too reasonable for that, though.

"You were spoiled."

My smile grows. He's twelve years older than I am. If I was spoiled, he played a big hand in it. Not that he'll ever admit it or anything. He swears I annoyed him, which is a lie. If I followed him around, it was only because he let me.

"What are you working on so late?" he asks, changing the subject.

"I'm tailing someone."

"Ah. Who?"

"What are you working on?" I ask instead of answering, already knowing he isn't going to tell me. He can't, not any more than I can tell him who I'm tailing. But we ask anyway. It's what we do. Neither of us can talk about what we're doing, but we want to know. I think he worries about me. I know I worry about him.

"Same shit, different day." He pauses. "You'd tell me if you were in trouble, right?"

"Ceres," I say quietly. "I'm fine."

"So you say," he mutters. "But you're halfway across the country. I preferred you closer to home."

"You mean you preferred me where you could keep an eye on me."

Diego takes a right, rolling to a stop at the intersection. Once he's sure it's clear, he takes the ramp to the interstate. I follow behind him, sure he knows I'm following him. He doesn't try to evade me, though. He doesn't speed, either.

"No, I preferred you closer to home," Ceres growls. "I miss you."

I sigh, turning on my blinker to get over into the left lane behind Diego. "I miss you too." He thinks I moved to avoid him, but the truth is, I just wanted out of cybercrimes. Busting scam rings all day was exhausting.

Most of the time, even when we managed to track them down, they were outside of our jurisdiction. We'd bring in local authorities, but they'd just pay off the police and be back in business in a matter of days.

Recovering the money they stole was just as exhausting. Half the time, it was long gone. The victims never got it back. Most of them were elderly, scammed out of their life savings because they didn't know any better. Breaking the news that they weren't getting it back was wearing me down.

I wanted to do something more than that. Only…I'm not entirely sure this is what I signed up for, either. I've dreamed of being a federal agent since I was a little girl. But no one warned me that I'd spend most of my time dealing with men like Dennis who don't think I belong in their boys' club.

"Does adulting ever get easier?" I ask Ceres.

His loud laughter echoes down the line. "Fuck no, baby sister. The shit just gets harder from here."

"I was afraid you would say that," I groan. "This is for the birds."

"Who you telling? Just wait until you're my age, and you suffer for a goddamn week every time you even think about sleeping wrong, exercising, or carrying something heavy."

"You aren't that old," I say through laughter.

"Mind telling my neck and back that because they did not get the memo?"

I flip my blinker on as Diego whips into the right lane ahead and then immediately crosses into the lane exiting the interstate. I have to slam on the brakes to exit behind him.

"Jerk," I mutter, certain he did that on purpose to irritate me.

"Hey, now," Ceres protests.

"Not you. The guy I'm tailing. He's driving like a jerk to annoy me."

Silence sounds down the line. I flick my gaze to the screen to ensure we weren't disconnected.

"Ceres?"

"He knows you're following him?" he growls. "What the fuck, Athena?"

"Calm your tatas, Cranky." I roll my eyes. "I'm not going to try to weasel my way into the confidences of a mafia member. I'm not trying to disappear without a trace." I'm just going to make a nuisance of myself until he gets sick of me and agrees to help fill in some blanks.

So far as plans go, it's a terrible one. But Diego's too insulated, too untrusting, and too intelligent to be easily fooled. Why bother trying when the most likely outcome doesn't bode well for me?

"Jesus H. Christ. You're tailing a member of the mafia?" Ceres growls.

Well, crap. I probably shouldn't have said that.

"Technically, their lawyer." It's partially true. He is their lawyer. He also happens to be one of them.

The distinction doesn't seem to help much. Ceres breaks into a litany of curses. "I'm coming out there."

"You absolutely are not coming out here!" I glare at the screen as if he can see me. "This is my job, Ceres. I don't interfere with yours. You need to butt out and let me do mine."

"I'm telling Ma."

"I'll tell her what really happened in South America," I warn, fighting fire with fire.

He growls, knowing he can't win this particular war. His job is far more dangerous than mine, and he's hidden a whole lot of it from our mom. She has no idea how many times we've almost lost him because I've kept his secrets. It's his turn to keep one for me.

"If anything happens to you, I'll take down the mafia myself," he swears, making me smile. I think if anyone were stubborn enough to do it out of pure spite, it might just be my brother.

But I don't need him to protect me. And I won't need him to follow through on his threat. Diego's going to tell me what I want to know. Even if I have to haunt him every waking hour until he does.