27. Lily

27

Lily

Goddamn that man !

I stomped around the bus, pacing back and forth for a good half hour. I was pretty sure I’d seen the last of Carl—I always made sure none of my clients knew where I lived. I’d cut all ties and I might even consider an anonymous tip to Interpol. Jesus! Selling women? What happened to nice, normal crime like drugs and guns?

I thought about that for a second. I was raised by one of New York’s most powerful dons. It’s possible my moral compass is a little out of whack. But at least I have a moral compass.

But the problems with Bull? That couldn’t be so easily solved. The argument had angered me but also upset me, leaving me shamefully close to tears. I was proud of what I did: I was one of the best in the world at my gig, I had clients who trusted me, and I kept everything professional. That’s why it burned so much that Bull disapproved.

The thing is, however much you hate the person who raises you, you still learn from them. I’d learned about running a business from my uncle and I’d picked up his respect for hard work and doing the best job you can. On some deep level, I think I’d even wanted to impress him—even though he had no idea what I now did. And the fact that he was so sexist, that he thought women had no place except in the home, made me even more determined to build my own little empire.

I hadn’t realized, until I’d told Bull about it, how much I’d been longing to share my achievements with someone. And then he’d thrown it all back in my face.

Why was he so mad? Because he thought I couldn’t handle crime—or maybe that no woman could handle it? I’d known he was arrogant and kind of a jerk at times, but I’d been getting to really like him. I hadn’t figured him for sexist. Or was his problem the morals of what I was doing? That didn’t make sense either—Bull didn’t strike me as someone who didn’t at least bend a few laws. Sure, he might be taken aback at what I was doing, but not angry.

Maybe I just didn’t understand men.