15. What Family Does
fifteen
What Family Does
Grace insisted on going back to work the next day, though she knew Romeo was less than thrilled with the idea. Truthfully, she would have been willing to take a day to rest in favor of pursuing her physical recovery, if not for the atrocious timing. But she’d already taken one day off without any notice—solid reasoning or not—and with Romeo’s office lacking an assistant entirely, that left the entire top floor unacceptably understaffed. She couldn’t stay out for two days in a row unless she was hospitalized.
Still, when all of those arguments only made Romeo hesitate, she relented a tiny bit and agreed to adjust her schedule in order to go in alongside him. It was easier, since she had no means of transporting herself and felt uneasy about the idea of endangering another new driver. And it gave her a little insight into the morning routine of the household she was living in.
Lucia did her best to pretend Grace wasn’t there altogether.
Grace supposed that was a step up from screaming and kicking and told herself to remember Romeo’s words from the night before. She needed to be patient, and steady, to show Lucia that her presence wasn’t a bad or scary thing.
On the way to school, Lucia asked her father, “Do you think the crazy lady will be at the gate again today?”
From the third-row seat, because Romeo hadn’t wanted her sitting upfront where she’d be more visible, Grace watched Romeo’s head snap around to look at his daughter again.
“You saw her?” he asked after a beat.
Lucia bobbed her head. “I didn’t get a good look. But everyone was talking about her. She was out there for, like, hours . Even the teachers were talking about her, and telling us to be sure we didn’t wander that way on recess and stuff.”
Romeo blew out a breath. “Well, if you see her today, be sure you stay away from her.”
The SUV pulled up to the gate as Lucia chirped her agreement. Grace watched quietly as Romeo got out and helped his daughter resettle her coat and backpack. It was a crisp, overcast morning and the forecast was threatening an icy day ahead. Mo had the heat in the Navigator cranked up to keep them comfortable. Still, Romeo stayed outside in the frigid air and watched as Lucia darted for the school building, not moving from his spot beside the SUV. Grace smiled at the sight. It was sweet, in a way Lucia was sure not to appreciate in a few short years.
Romeo turned and pulled the door open again, sliding what had been Lucia’s seat forward and motioning. “All right, come on. I’m not leaving you stuck in the back.”
“It’s cozy back here,” Grace teased. She obligingly unclipped her seatbelt and crawled to the opposite side of the cabin before stepping out, allowing Romeo to help her keep her feet. He’d had new shoes acquired for her overnight, which she very much appreciated, but tasteful office heels only did so much in icy weather.
Two minutes later they were on the road again, Romeo’s hand stretched across the seat and curled around hers. “How’s your head feeling?” he asked gently.
“You worry too much. It feels a lot better, I promise.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “You inspected it yourself, didn’t you?”
His gaze lifted as if he could see through her atypically loose hair to the butterfly bandage at the side of her head. “I’m no doctor.” He sighed. “Just remember to speak up if you start to feel worse, okay?”
“Whatever you say.” She didn’t know why she felt like teasing him, just a little, but the dip in his brow and the way his hand tightened around hers assured her he had caught on. They both knew nothing could come of it, and that was probably what made it fun.
He stroked his thumb slowly over her skin. “I’ll remember you said that.”
A thrill shot down her spine as the SUV dipped into the parking garage. It was going to be a learning curve, adjusting to working alongside Romeo as his fiancée—a learning curve for both of them.
Mo dropped them off at the elevator entrance and they rode the private box all the way to the top floor, Romeo with his arm around her waist. They both knew he was taking advantage of the last moments of pre-work demands, but she wasn’t complaining. She liked the change. She liked the security of his embrace.
When the doors slid open, Romeo’s arm obligingly fell away and he stepped forward, taking the lead into the main hallway as he surely would have any other time.
“What the hell do you mean ‘not available’?” a male voice bellowed, his angry, scratching tone carrying down the hall. “I’ve been waiting days , dammit! Who even are you? You don’t get to talk to me like this!”
Grace let out an involuntary groan when she recognized the ranting voice. A part of her wanted to immediately spin around and dive back into the elevator. She should have known he’d be in a tizzy, since she’d never bothered responding to his technically weekend email. She pulled in a breath and squared her shoulders, work bag clutched in her hands, and met Romeo’s gaze when he looked back at her with both eyebrows raised. “Wish me luck.”
She picked up the pace and strode into what was effectively her office, finding one of the girls from middle management shrinking into herself behind the desk in response to their undoubtedly uninvited guest’s screaming rage. The girl was surely a stand-in to at least cover phones while Grace had been out, and that was fine. The grown-ass-man throwing a temper tantrum was not.
“Mr. Richardson,” Grace said, her tone purposefully more reprimanding than welcoming, “I have to ask you not to yell at our employees. Particularly when I’m certain you don’t have an appointment.”
Wesley Richardson rounded on her, his face turning increasingly red. “Mariner! I emailed you days ago, you useless excuse for a secretary! I need to talk to—”
“Your email was received on Monday,” Grace confirmed, keeping her tone sharp. “It wasn’t urgent, and we had more pressing matters. I’ve had every intention to get back to you before week’s end.” A small lie. Dante’s instruction had been to let the man simmer.
Apparently, he had a low boiling point.
Richardson took a large step forward. “Not urgent?” he repeated, his voice rising. “The hell it isn’t urgent! I demand—”
“You don’t make demands around here, Mr. Richardson,” Romeo said as he stepped up beside Grace. He’d shed his outer coat and looked for all the world like he’d simply come from his office. “Lower your voice and mind your manners when you address our employees or we’ll have you banned from the premises.”
Richardson’s eyes widened. His chest puffed out with a deep breath. “You can’t do that,” he said, almost disbelievingly. Then he launched straight back into his scream-fit, spittle flying from his mouth. “We’re supposed to be business partners, De Salvo! I have rights! I want my company back, you scummy, cheating, no good bastards!”
Romeo didn’t move an inch, hands tucked into his slacks pockets, expression neutral. “Are you done?”
Grace sighed and sidestepped to the desk, setting down her bag and shedding her coat to accommodate the building’s functioning heater. She pulled out her tablet, quickly opening the file she wanted, and rejoined the unpleasant altercation in the center of the room.
“Mr. Richardson,” she said as she turned the screen around, “in light of your disrespectful conduct, I’m not inclined to be gentle when I remind you that you have no company to claim. You sold everything under your label to DS Industries at the turn of the year. The contract was vetted by attorneys on both sides and signed by all parties. Feel free to challenge it if you want, but it will hold up in court. What you’re struggling with right now is seller’s remorse, and I’m afraid that’s not our problem.”
Richardson dragged in a breath and reached out—for her, or her tablet, she wasn’t sure. “How dare you talk to me that way, you bit—”
Romeo’s arm shot out, catching Richardson’s forearm in a firm grip. “I think we’re done here. Any further concerns you have regarding the transition process can be communicated between our lawyers.” He glanced at Grace. “Call security up.”
She nodded and stepped back, taking herself out of range. “Right away.” All she had to do was toggle an app on the tablet, so she closed the file she had open and tapped the necessary button.
Dante exited his office almost simultaneously. “Wesley,” he said, striding forward. “I could barely conduct my meeting over your shouting. Why are you causing a ruckus so early in the morning?”
Richardson gnashed his teeth. “Get your feral brother off me, De Salvo!”
Grace watched as Dante’s stare lowered to Romeo’s grip of Richardson’s arm, then shifted immediately over to her, before sliding to the twenty-something female trying to hide under the desk.
“You’re dismissed,” Dante said to the girl. “Return to your usual post.”
The girl jumped to her feet and scrambled to pick up her things. “Y-yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I-I’m sorry, sir.” She glanced at Grace and whispered, “Good luck.” Then she darted past them, practically running for the elevator.
“Now,” Dante said, “Wesley. If my brother’s put his hands on you, I imagine there’s a reason. So you have two choices. Wait for your escort … or deal with me. But we’re alone up here. I can’t promise you’ll prefer the latter.”
Richardson’s head turned back and forth as his eyes darted between Romeo and Dante. “Y-you’re threatening me?” He had the gall to sound shocked.
Dante’s brow dipped almost imperceptibly. “You’ve disrespected my staff, have been persistently badgering and distracting me from my work, directly threatened my assistant, and are attempting to bully your way out of a contract that was in fact your idea to begin with.” He paused and a strange, indefinable chill settled in the air. “So yes, Wesley, I’m threatening you. And I won’t give you another warning.”
Richardson struggled in Romeo’s grip. “This is unethical!”
Irritation sparked inside her and Grace opened another app on her tablet. Though her access was limited, she could tap into live and recent feeds from most of the building’s security cameras through the localized network. So she pulled up the program, found the angle she wanted, and rolled it back to the crucial moment. As soon as she had it, she spoke over whatever nonsense Richardson was babbling and turned her tablet around again, saying, “More or less unethical than assault? Because that’s what this looks like to anyone who would ever lay eyes on this footage.”
She watched Richardson’s stare drop to the screen and wasn’t surprised by the way his jaw clenched at what he saw. He saw himself, just a minute prior, reaching out for her with an almost claw-like grip. It was not a moment of impact, of course, but the intent was clear. Nothing about her body language said she was anticipating or complying with his manhandling.
“You manipulative—” Again, Richardson was cut off. This time by six armed men suddenly rushing into and crowding the space.
Grace quickly found herself pressed backward against the outer edge of her desk. She pulled the tablet in close to make sure it didn’t get damaged.
“Watch yourselves,” Romeo snapped.
The man nearest her immediately shuffled away, giving her breathing room.
“Wesley here needs help finding his car,” Dante said. “See that he remembers the way off the premises, and then make sure word is passed along that he is not to return without a police escort and a warrant.”
“Yes, sir,” the security team chorused.
“De Salvo!” Richardson shouted as he was physically passed from Romeo to two of the burlier men. “Give me back my company, you fraud!”
Grace barely kept from gaping as Wesley Richardson, fifty-four-year-old gambling addict and former CEO of the defunct Richardson Technologies, was hauled away by their security team. A security team she suddenly had questions about. DSI hired out security from Mikey’s recently established security firm, a way for elder brother to show support to youngest brother, but that knowledge suddenly had Grace wondering if perhaps these men were also a little more ‘in the family’ than she ever would have guessed.
“Don’t take too long composing yourselves,” Dante said, already turning back toward his office. “Work is piling up and we have an important meeting at noon.”
Grace exhaled as his door clicked shut. She’d forgotten about that meeting, but he was right, it couldn’t be missed. All three of them needed to be in attendance.
Romeo moved into her space, tilting her head to face him again. “You okay, angel?”
She smiled. “I’m fine. You’re over-protective.” She kind of liked it, in the way that she knew she shouldn’t. She pushed lightly against his chest. “I probably can’t help you clean up your office situation today.”
He grinned. “That’s fine. I’ll call up one of the people we pilfered from Dick Tech, just to spite the spitting asshole.”
She shouldn’t have laughed. “You’re terrible.”
“I am.” Romeo leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “See you in a little while, angel.”
Romeo let himself into Dante’s office shortly before their scheduled noon-time meeting. Seeing that his brother wasn’t on the phone or in the middle of a video call, he said, “Got a text from Cris. He’s about done with that leftover from the attack on Grace at her apartment the other night.” He dropped into a chair across from Dante’s desk. “Sounds like he’s mostly just confirmed the Ink Blot theory, and that Filip Tracey orchestrated the assault for some fucking reason.”
Dante frowned and sat back in his chair. “Tracey didn’t look like the gangster type.”
Romeo shrugged. “Cris thinks that’s all this guy knows.”
“Then we need to work harder to find the man himself.”
Romeo inclined his head. He was more than happy to get his hands on the bastard who’d put together a plot that could well have cost Grace her life. “And you’re sure he wasn’t one of her kidnappers?”
“Tracey’s description doesn’t fit any of the men who were in the car they pulled Grace from,” Dante replied. “Seems like the officers got a decent look at the one who got away, and that one matches a different name on our list.”
That was new information. Romeo raised a brow.
“Cezar Barros.”
Romeo cursed. Barros was confirmed to be a higher-ranking member of the Ink Blot gang, and was responsible for having previously abducted Felicity. By the time they’d found her, the man had been in the wind. Causing trouble and then disappearing again seemed to be a skill of his. But his presence only reinforced the notion that the Ink Blots had Grace in their sights, and Romeo could only think of one possible reason.
“Do you want the coup de gras? Or should I tell Cris to wrap it up?” Dante asked.
Romeo opened his mouth to answer, but hesitated when another thought popped into his head. “Did you ever figure out what happened with the Delta crew?” Delta was a nightshift cleanup crew, anyway, so there was no guarantee that whatever problem had occurred to make their work so sloppy would carry over into dayshift. But without knowing the cause of it, there was also no guarantee it wouldn’t.
Dante grunted, a sure sign of irritation. “It boils down to incompetence,” he said. “Apparently, they were functioning short-handed, and instead of reporting the problem or passing on larger assignments as per protocol, the crew leader decided they could ‘power through.’” His lips curled in a faint sneer as he repeated what had undoubtedly been another man’s words.
Romeo stared at his brother in momentarily stunned silence. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I am not.”
He sucked in a breath, anger burning in his chest. “There are reasons for those protocols.” His hands clenched into fists. “I’ll shoot that motherfucker myself.”
Dante inclined his head. “You’ll have to aim that fury elsewhere. I already lost my temper on that subject. The rest of the old Delta crew has been relieved of duty or reassigned. A new Delta will be formed in the next few days, until then, we’re one night crew short.” A dangerous, yet contradictorily reassuring, smirk tipped Dante’s lips. “Regardless, the old crew has a fresh respect for the rules—and the consequences.”
Romeo blew out a breath. “I guess I’ll make my peace with that, then.” He paused. “Cris can have this one. That punk’s not really who I want.”
“You want Tracey.”
“I do.” Romeo pushed to his feet. “Also, I was gonna head out a little early this afternoon. Can you bring Grace home when you’re done for the day?”
Dante raised a brow, scooped his phone off the desk, and also stood. “You want me playing escort for your fiancée?”
“Not every day,” Romeo said, rolling his eyes for dramatic effect. “We both know she’s prone to working too late. I imagine I can’t make her quit that habit altogether, but while she’s being actively targeted, she really shouldn’t be doing that. And I need a little time to get some shopping done.”
Dante hummed. “I suppose that can be arranged, then.”
A soft tap on the door preceded the woman in question poking her head into the room. “Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but it’s time to get going.” She pushed the door wider at seeing them already on their feet.
Dante led the way from the room and Romeo lingered by the door to steal an arguably inappropriate and frustratingly chaste kiss. Grace pushed him forward so she could close the door again, then fell in behind him as they continued to the main conference room. He could see two men in suits stepping from the elevator, arriving tastefully early to the meeting, so she clearly had not misspoken. It was time to play businessman again.
Grace was thankful there weren’t a lot of meetings on deck for the day. It enabled her to focus mostly on catching up on what she’d missed and get back to the project of finding a new assistant for Romeo. Several applications had landed on her desk while she’d been away. She didn’t want to think about the size of the pile that hadn’t made it to her.
She caught herself staring, motionless, down at the photo of a modest-looking young woman, three years younger than her, on the next application. The woman was adequately educated, had decent experience, and arguably showed a fair deal of promise. If nothing else, the woman had ambition. Grace couldn’t begrudge her that—that was one of the things that had worked in her own favor at nearly the same age.
The woman’s name was Jules. Not Julia or Julie, and not Juliet, but Jules. Already, Grace could hear the coffee room snickering. Romeo with an assistant named Jules would be gossip-worthy for a while, whether there was anything to actually gossip about or not.
Grace found herself struggling in a way she hadn’t prepared for.
She couldn’t call it jealousy. She couldn’t call it anger. She didn’t know what to call it, but she disliked it immensely. Jules had done nothing to her, yet Grace wanted very much to tear up her application and pretend it had never landed on her desk at all. At the very least, she wanted a damn good reason to deny it. Just imagining the tasteless jokes she might overhear made her want to dump hot coffee all over some equally imagined man’s expensive suit.
But this wasn’t really about her. Jules was trying to further her own career, to better her life. What was wrong with that? And what if Jules was capable?
What if Jules and Romeo didn’t get along, or she couldn’t handle the hours and the grueling workload? In any of those cases, Grace’s sudden upset would have been for nothing. Grace knew better than to get ahead of herself. She knew better than to make it personal. She had a job to do. She was still expected to perform professionally, no matter who she was marrying.
“Bad time?”
The question made Grace jump in her seat. She’d been so intently staring at Jules’ paperwork, she hadn’t even seen anyone walk up. Her face flushed and she couldn’t decide if she was grateful or further humiliated at the unusual sight of the youngest De Salvo brother standing across from her. “Lost in thought, I guess,” she finally offered. “I’m sorry.” Grace gestured to Dante’s door. “He’s in, and he shouldn’t be on a call that I’m aware of.”
Instead of replying, Mikey set down a suspiciously recognizable box and swept up the paper she’d been staring at. “You have a problem with this woman? She looks boring.”
Grace eyed the unsealed cellphone box he’d deposited for a lingering moment, confusion trickling in, before shifting her attention up to him again. “No,” she said. “We’ve never spoken and she’s in good standing. She’s applying to fill the assistant position.” She paused. He knew about that, right? She’d always assumed the brothers shared basically everything.
Mikey looked up from the paperwork, blinking slowly. “For Romeo?” He scoffed. “You don’t have to be worried about that.”
The heat returned to her face. “I’m not!” Even to her ears, she didn’t sound convincing. She drew a breath to calm herself. “I trust Romeo,” she said. “It’s…. There are some men around the office who like to make sexual jokes out of everything. I realize that’s unavoidable, but apparently the inevitable ‘Romeo and Juliet’ jokes are going to get under my skin. If she even makes it past the interview rounds, of course.”
Mikey shrugged. “Then deny the app. Problem avoided.” Her mouth fell open, but he kept talking, pointing to the box. “Anyway, that’s for you. Romeo asked me to set it up. You might have to re-download some stuff, but all your basics should have transferred over. Same number, too.”
Her focus snapped back to the box. She wasn’t sure which question to ask first. Romeo had left the office shortly after the meeting, she assumed for other business, and this was the last thing she’d expected. Quickly, Grace shifted aside the papers on her desk to make some room, then reached for the box.
Inside was a brand-new phone, the updated model of the kind she preferred. It was even the same base color. “Mikey, thank you.” She lifted it out and ran her fingers across the smooth surface. Not having a mobile phone had made her feel so unspeakably vulnerable.
“Don’t mention it.” Mikey set a reusable bag where he’d set the box, then reached over and picked up the remaining papers for Jules, as if he’d had a new thought. “We’re family now. That’s what we do.” He took a step away, in the direction of Dante’s office, and added, “Speaking of … your sister’s downstairs.”