Page 79 of Coerced Wife
“Mean what?” he asks.
She removes her hat and shakes out her curls. “When you greet me either because you’re genuinely pleased to see me or simply to be polite. You’re neither.”
He throws back his head and laughs. “Feisty.”
She hangs her hat next to her coat on the stand and removes her gloves. Then she sits down and opens her laptop, her concentration already elsewhere as if neither Giorgio nor I exist.
“You haven’t answered me,” I say, flinching as I pull off my leather jacket.
The cut over my side and lower back hurts like a bitch today.
“Working,” he says, throwing a wedge in the air and catching it in his mouth.
Right. As if he’s done anything constructive as far as the management of the club goes.
I lower myself into my chair, trying hard not to grunt with the effort. “If you’re not going to be useful, I suggest you go home. Your father won’t be pleased if he finds out you’re here.”
He glares at me, but he doesn’t take me on. He knows damn well he fucked up last night and that, once again, I saved his ass. That’s the vicious circle we’re trapped in. He has the right name and blood, and I have the brains and the balls.
Sometimes, I wish we could go back to how it used to be when we were young and power didn’t matter, when he was just the favorite target of our school bullies and I the kid who protected him. Things were simpler then. But we were always going to grow into what and who we are today. Luigi will always blame Giorgio for not being like me while resenting me for being a better underboss than his son. I was just too stupid to see it back then.
I have a feeling I’m going to have to split paths with the Bianchis, and Luigi isn’t a man who lets anyone walk away. I know too much. If I’m not on their side, I’ll be a risk. Plus, there’s the matter of After Dark that brings in the bulk of my wealth. I’ll soon have a family to provide for, a wife and a kid I have to protect. The only way of cutting the ties may be the good old traditional way—with a knife. But then there’s Raphael and Michele who pledged their alliance to Luigi to consider. If I take on Luigi and Giorgio, I’ll have to take on the whole damn mafia on the east side of the city as well as all the Mexican cartels Raphael deals with. It’s a catch-twenty-two situation.
A knock falls on the door, pulling me from my thoughts.
One of the bouncers opens the door and sticks his head around the door frame. “There’s a cop outside who wants to see you, Saverio.”
Anya looks up quickly.
“Says his name is Jordan,” the bouncer continues in his smoke-roughened voice.
I open my mouth to tell him no, but before I can get a word out, Giorgio says, “Send him up.”
The bouncer bobs his head and disappears.
“Are you out of your mind?” I bite out.
“What?” Giorgio asks, all pretended innocence as he raises his palms and pulls his shoulders up to his ears. “We’ll look guilty if we send him away.”
Fucking idiot.
The bouncer knocks again and opens the door for Jordan to enter.
The detective saunters into the room, taking in the space with a smirk on his face before he says, “De Luca, how very accommodating of you to make time for me. Mr.Bianchi, it’s good to see you again.” He nods at Anya. “Ms. Brennan, right? We haven’t been formally introduced.”
I don’t invite him to sit. “What can I do for you?”
He plonks down in the chair facing my desk. “There’s been a homicide last night.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Anya stiffen, but I keep my gaze squarely on the detective while maintaining my practiced poker face. “Unfortunate. But not unusual. There’s one every day in New York City.”
“True.” He drums his fingers on my desk. “What makes this one special is that you had the perfect motive.”
I raise a brow. “Are you accusing me of something?”
He flashes me a row of straight white teeth. “Aren’t you going to ask who the unlucky victim was?”
“No,” I drawl. “You’re here to tell me. Or did you just miss me?”