7. Tiberius

7

TIBERIUS

I sit behind my desk and watch Kinsley through narrowed eyes. The girl is an issue. A big one. I like to touch her. I like her eyes on me. I like seeing the lust on her face when I’m close. I could take her right now over this desk, and she’d let me. The reaction from her untrained body was unmistakable and makes me ache. Her breasts were swollen, and her hardened nipples pressed against her white tee.

My body feels tight with a need that I haven’t felt for a very long time. I fuck Veronica on occasion, but that is all it is—fucking. I don’t come half the time. The woman is a pit viper and will stab me in the back at the first opportunity. But Kinsley, she’s different. I’m a bastard, but I will not cross that line with a seventeen-year-old.

She won’t always be seventeen.

Kinsley clears her throat as she fidgets in the chair. I’ve been staring at her while lost in my own head.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“The beginning?” She tilts her head and bites her bottom lip, which draws my gaze.

What I wouldn’t give to suck on that lip, or even better, have that mouth wrapped around my cock. I wince and reach down to move the beast behind my zipper into a more comfortable position.

I clear my throat, and say, “I don’t know what the fuck to do with you.” I sigh and lean forward. “My brother asked me to keep you safe. Their death wasn’t an accident, Kinsley.”

She swallows and rapidly blinks away the moisture in her eyes.

“Jude was a businessman, just not in the way your parents had you believe.” I certainly have her attention now.

How the fuck am I supposed to admit to the innocent across from me that the parents she knew were part of a large mafia family? The same one that I’m the fucking head of. Would knowing the truth send her into the enemy’s arms out of curiosity? That is what I want in the end, but by then, she’d understand why. I tell myself I don’t give a shit one way or the other.

“I knew what my father was, Tiberius,” she says softly.

I narrow my gaze, then it clicks. “You might not have heard much from me today through the vent, but you heard Jude in the past?”

“Yes. Only once. Not enough to put the whole thing together until now. My father knew about the vent and was usually careful. However, there was one day I was sent home from school sick, and he didn’t know. Usually, important meetings took place in the office beneath the house.”

The new basement is somewhere I haven’t found my way into yet. The old basement no longer has an entrance, as I have discovered. Jude once briefly mentioned that he had a new one outfitted. I didn’t want him to know how curious I was about it, so I never mentioned it again. Turns out, all I had to do was ask Kinsley. I realize now that there probably isn’t an inch of this house that she doesn’t know about.

“Well, well, you’re not all sweet and innocent, are you?” I pause. “So, tell me, what was your father?”

“He was a drug czar.”

Shock rattles through me for a moment until I burst out laughing. A drug czar! Where the fuck did she get that idea? My brother was a lot of things, but a drug czar was not one of them.

“Boss?” Jock pokes his head into the office. His eyes move back and forth between Kinsley and me, a frown on the big man’s face.

I wave him away.

Until today, I haven’t laughed in a long time. I pull myself together and shake my head.

“Kinsley, I’m not sure what you heard, but Jude, not once, had anything to do with drugs.”

A frown pulls between her brows. “I overheard my father discussing shipments with another man. He specifically talked about the quality of, and I quote, ‘coke.’ How did I mistake that?”

That bit of information puzzles me. “Do you know who the man was?”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t see him. He had a distinctive voice, so maybe I would recognize it if I heard it again.”

“What else did they say?”

“That was it, really. I mean, I wasn’t sitting in the closet at the time. I went in it to change out of my school uniform when I heard raised voices. My father had a booming voice on occasion.”

“He did,” I reply, distracted.

What the fuck had Jude been involved in? I knew my brother, or at least I thought I did. The Jude I knew wouldn’t have been involved in drugs. So, what changed?

“Tell me about him, please. You were about to until I butted in.”

“We are part of a mafia family.”

Kinsley blinks hard, her pretty features contorted in horror. “I thought the mafia was Italian.”

Her comment catches me by surprise. What did I expect from her though? Tears and denial? Hysterical laughter because it is so unbelievable?

“Our grandfather was Italian.” I clear my throat. “His only surviving daughter—our mother, Jude’s and mine—took over from him. Isabella was fierce and someone not to be crossed. This house is my family home, Kinsley. That is why Jude was supposed to leave it to me, under the provision that you would always have a home here.”

“You’re not bullshitting me, are you? I remember Grandma. She was always in a bad mood. She scared me.”

I laugh. “She scared me too.”

Kinsley raises a brow.

I smirk. “You don’t believe me?”

“Actually, I think I do.” She scoots the chair forward and leans her elbows on the desk, her chin resting on her hands. “My parents were killed because of who they were?”

I nod.

“Do you know by whom?”

“I will tell you my theory one day. For now, it is enough that you know who they really were.”

“And you, Tiberius? What is your part in all of this?”

“I am the head of the family. I was before your father died. So if you are thinking I got rid of my brother to take over, that is not true.”

“That hadn’t crossed my mind.” By the frown on her face, I believe her.

I’m contemplating how much to tell her, when she asks, “So, what revenge is going to be taken?”

“Do not worry about that.”

“Don’t patronize me, Tiberius. I may be young, but if you are who you say you are, then revenge will be taken. I want in on that.”

“You need to trust me to keep you safe.”

Her eyes narrow, a telltale sign that she does not like my words. Well, tough. She’s just going to have to live with it.

“Will you tell me about my family? Like, what was the family name? And why do you and my father have different surnames?”

I steeple my fingers on the desk and watch Kinsley closely.

“The family name that my grandfather brought with him from Italy was Lombardi. Antonio Lombardi. My mother, Isabella, married Andrew Beckett, one of her father’s enforcers. Jude’s full name was Jude Andrew Elliott Beckett. When he met your mother, he dropped the Beckett name for reasons only he knew.”

Kinsley stares off toward something over my right shoulder. I know she’s letting my words sink in. Her complexion turns pale, and I remind myself that she just lost her parents. Not only that, but she is lumped with me.

I figure that is enough information for today. I want her to think about what I said. Hell, I need to think about how much I want her to know. It would appear she is more aware than Jude gave her credit for.

“The basement. Show me,” I demand.