Page 78 of Controlled

“Well, let’s see. Because you took the private jet to New York to impress her with dinner at the most expensive restaurant in town, tickets to her favorite ballet, and a suite that cost over five thousand a night. I’d say that’s why.”

“I’m going to kill Kane.”

“From what I heard, you almost did.”

I thought about his words and the frankness to them. “Yeah, I get what you’re saying.”

“I hope so. Maybe you were right in that she was sent to you for a purpose but don’t make her a martyr or yourself one for that matter. That’s about all the brotherly advice I can give you. Take it or leave it.”

“I appreciate it, brother.”

“I almost think you mean that.”

Another laugh popped up from my throat. “Maybe I do. Tell Emily hello for me.”

“I’m here if you need me, bro.”

“I know.”

“Two last things. Given what’s going on and the attempted hit on your life, I told Travis we’re not accepting any additional clients.”

Exhaling, I knew it was for the best. “Agreed. What else?”

“You’re not going to like this but it’s time. Do something different with the hunting grounds. None of us need the reminder that we’re barely human.”

Barely human. He’d hit the nail on the head. He was also right that if I wanted to be with Bella, there could be no secrets between us. None. However, how did you tell the best person you’d ever met that you were the devil incarnate?

And oddly enough, I really did want to be with her. How strange that after all these years all I could think about was wanting to have a close family. I shook my head and pulled out my wallet, tossing two hundreds on the bar’s surface.

Another drink I didn’t need.

All I needed was to have her arms around me. How strange. How impossible.

How amazing.

“Thank you for meeting with me, Frederico,” I said as I wiped my mouth, enjoying the lunch more than I’d thought I would. I’d allowed him to choose the restaurant, not surprised when he’d selected a small Italian joint on the East side where his territory was. “The cannelloni were perfection.” I pressed my thumb and forefinger together, kissing the tips as I’d seen done.

In turn, he glared at me, continuing to stuff his face. He’d put on some weight since I’d last seen him, but that was understandable since he was getting ready to retire. “Don’t kid a kidder, Creed. You basically threatened me if I didn’t show.”

I appreciated the frank conversation almost as much as I did his hospitality as he poured another glass of red wine for both of us.

“Touché.” At this point, I was finding it tough to keep my mind on business. I’d wanted nothing more than to stay with my beautiful dancer, promising her we’d do something special tonight upon my return. She’d looked at me as if I was headed out to drown myself instead.

Not that committing suicide hadn’t crossed my mind on more than one occasion over the years. But I was stronger than that.

As I rubbed my finger back and forth across my lips, longing to sink my tongue into her sweet pussy all over again, I was thankful I’d arranged for a little surprise prior to me returning home. Had it been because of what Styx had advised? Perhaps but I hadn’t spent fifty thousand dollars on renovating a room on a whim.

I’d wanted my perfect dancer to have every opportunity of doing something she loved more than life itself. She deserved that at minimum for what I’d put her through.

There I was again, developing a conscience. Next, I’d be kissing babies and stroking golden retrievers for fun. I almost laughed at the meme floating through my mind. Could I be a better man? Perhaps. Only time and effort would tell.

At least I was putting the pieces together for continuing to take the corporation into more legitimate areas. I’d even put a squash on any other third world country sales for now, at least until I’d gotten a grip on what was going on and whether or not it was worth the risk.

Carlos was another story. No one dared ignore an agreement made with me. No one.

“Now, why don’t you get to the point of why you insisted on this meeting,” Frederico nearly barked, although that was his style. Brusque.

I took one last bite before pushing the plate away. “Then I will. Have you turned over the reins to your son Antonio as of yet?”