Chapter Twenty-Seven Callum
It doesn’t matter how powerful or connected you are; when your mother expects you to attend an event, you show up.
Especially if she’s Tara Walsh-Russo. There are very few people on this earth who can give me orders, but she is at the top of that list. So I packed a bag, and a certain beautiful blonde, and we’re headed out of the city.
The drive to the Hamptons takes a little over two hours. There are faster ways to get there, but I decided to use the time to get caught up on emails and other work details before spending the next few days immersed back in Family affairs.
I sit back and listen to Lexie chat with our driver, Roger—the man who drives me whenever Roscoe’s not available—like they’re old friends.
When traffic grows more congested, conversation dies down as Roger’s focus goes back to the road, bringing Lexie’s attention back to me. “You employ some really nice people.”
“Is that a surprise?” I ask, raising my brows in question. I nudge her bottle of water when she reaches for the mimosa in her cupholder. The woman seems to have something against staying properly hydrated, drinking everything except what’s actually good for her.
“Yeah, sometimes,” she responds, unfazed. “You’re not exactly friendly.”
“What am I then?” I lift my cup to take a sip of my coffee. Lexie gazes at me for a moment in thoughtful consideration. She looks torn at whether she’s going to answer the question at all.
“You are,” she starts slowly, searching for the right words. “Omniscient.”
Her description seems fitting, I am all-seeing. Especially when it comes to her.
“Not to mention ridiculously good-looking and a little terrifying,” she adds lightly, ignoring the water and taking another sip from the champagne flute. My grip flexes against my cup when she bats those blue eyes at me in a way that makes my pants tighten.
The two-and-a-half-hour drive feels closer to twenty minutes, and everything goes smoothly as we navigate traffic out of the city. I’ve only stayed at the Walmont once before several years ago. From what I remember, it’s private and grand—the perfect place for an engagement party.
Lexie sits beside me, quietly admiring the new scenery as it passes by the car window. I can see her eyes moving to absorb every detail in the architecture and landmarks, and I make a mental note to take her sightseeing before we leave if time permits.
She’s not wearing one of her cute dresses, and her pink scrubs are keeping my hand on her thigh from touching skin. My hand inches up her leg, moving closer to the pussy I crave to be inside again. She squirms under my touch, her hand covering mine to stop my movement.
Her eyes leave the window to meet mine, gazing at me intently for a silent conversation. Then her hand slips under mine to interlock our fingers. With that, she turns back to the window with our hands still entwined.
“Here we are, Mr. Russo,” Roger announces, pulling my attention from the text I’m writing to Roscoe. He stayed back in the city with Liam and Enzo to keep the Harris ball rolling while I’m away for the next few days.
The Walmont stands proudly at the end of a long, hedge-lined drive.
Converted from the French neoclassical mansion on the Walmont family estate built in the early 1900s, the hotel spreads across acres of sprawling, manicured lawns and gardens.
It’s as expensive and exclusive as it looks, and far removed from the crime syndicate that’s about to overrun it.
“Wow, this place is stunning,” Lexie comments beside me when we walk inside, and she’s right.
The glossy, cream tile floors reflect the intricate blue and bronze coffered ceiling.
Ornate paneled walls and detailed crown molding show the history of the building, decorated with gold leaf and carefully curated decor.
A grand staircase leads to a landing with two elevators before splitting to either side and wrapping around the massive chandelier.
The large cherry wood reception desk sits along the back wall of the reception area.
“Mr. Russo,” the woman behind the front desk greets me without introduction. “Welcome to The Walmont. The Raymond Suite is ready for your arrival,” she says with a wide smile, holding out the pamphlet with the room keys and hotel map. I accept it with thanks.
“Callum Russo, out of the city.” Massimo Grassos’s voice announces my arrival.
I turn to see him striding across the lobby in one of his signature pinstripe suits in the classic 1920s gangster style—all he’s missing is the homburg hat and black-and-white shoes.
As Don Rafael’s second-oldest son and enforcer, it’s his attempt at irony.
“I never miss a chance to take advantage of an open bar,” I joke with a grin. The banter is for our audience, we both know that. To the hotel staff, we’re just two old friends visiting for a special occasion. No one would ever suspect that I’ve buried more than one body for this man.
“Nothing but the best for such a special occasion. I don’t have to tell you how important this wedding is to our family.” Massimo’s eyes move past me and I know he’s clocked Lexie. “And you brought someone with you.”
“This is Lexie,” I inform him, my hand going to the small of her back as they shake hands. I don’t particularly enjoy watching Lexie smile at other guys, not when I know exactly what kind of man they are.
“Massimo Grassos,” he introduces himself, blatantly looking her up and down. “Welcome to the Family.”
“Hi—” Whatever Lexie is about to say is cut off when her phone starts to ring. She looks down at it before glancing up at me. “Sorry.”
“Go ahead.” I nod, giving her permission.
I know that she’s been waiting for a call from Mia about one of her old nurse friends.
She flashes me a grateful smile before stepping away to answer it.
My eyes follow her movements as she finds a quiet spot to talk by one of the rectangular pillars a few yards away.
“So, it’s true,” Massimo comments with amusement. “When Lucciano mentioned your new nurse was different than Tony, he wasn’t joking. She’s not what I was expecting, especially for you.”
“Her work is impeccable and she’s loyal. That’s what I needed.”
“She’s blonde.” He laughs at the absurdity of it. “And pink.”
“Yes, she is,” I agree, my gaze catching on Lexie across the lobby once more. “You have a list for me?”
“This is the information you requested.” Massimo hands me a leather folder.
“Itinerary for the weekend’s events, guest list with everyone’s room numbers—all of it.
Go get settled in your room, we’ll meet later.
My father and our people will be here tonight to discuss business.
Your family and the others arrive tomorrow morning. ”
“Perfect,” I confirm. Arriving before everyone else was part of my plan—if I have to be here I might as well make a weekend out of it.
The engagement party isn’t until tomorrow evening, so that means I have until then to enjoy the Hamptons before all of the complications get here.
Massimo’s hands clasp my upper arms with an enthusiastic nod.
“Good to have you here.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Better make the most of it.