Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
VEERA
Gabby huffed out a breath while eyeing her French manicure, one leg crossed over a knee, the other stretched out in front of her so she could inspect the sheen of her Louboutins at the same time.
“Here she comes,” she grumbled.
The announcement was unnecessary. Each of my girls had a certain way about them, a gait, that told me they were headed towards my office long before they appeared on the other side of that door. Even Bells.
“Good morning, motherfuckers!” Okay, especially Bells.
The knob hit the wall with a bounce that had the door automatically clicking closed behind her again.
I cleared my throat and gestured to the chair in front of me, specifically the client occupying it.
Bells crossed her arms over her chest and quirked an eyebrow. She didn’t have to say anything for me to know what she was thinking.
So what? Probably followed by a few choice adjectives.
That was another thing about my girls. They didn’t have manners. But they didn’t need to when they got results.
It was what I told our clients whenever they questioned what was seen as our lack of professionalism. Which wasn’t often. Most of the women who came to us were desperate, out of options. We were it for them.
The girl sitting in front of me in a set of riding leathers that rivalled Bells’s wasn’t one of those.
I waited a week before returning her call.
She didn’t call back. A giant red flag that told me she didn’t need us.
It was why I’d entertained this meeting at all.
I wanted to know why she was here. At our place of business.
A business that worked by word of mouth, satisfied customers only.
I gestured for Bells to have a seat. She leaned her back against the door and grinned instead. I rolled my eyes and reapplied my practiced smile, my glare focused on the child-like almost thirty-year-old across the room.
“This is Danica Rossi.” I waved a hand between the two women before claiming the chair behind my desk. “Ms. Rossi, this is Bellatrix Doucette, the head of our… acquisition department.”
Bells pushed off the door, arms still crossed as she leaned forward to whisper in Danica’s ear. “She means I kill whoever it is you need killing.”
“I assure you she’s much more subtle on the job,” I hissed between clenched teeth. These girls were like daughters to me, which was exactly why they liked to push my buttons every chance they got. “Now, Ms. Rossi, please tell us what brought you in today.”
The former mafia princess turned bounty hunter replied by sliding a photo in my direction.
We had a drawer’s worth of files on her.
Would have been stupid not to. We needed to know all the players in the game.
Including our competition. Though Danica Rossi was far less particular when it came to what she was willing to do for money.
She wasn’t a hooker or anything like that. The girl just had no morals. And at the very least, I liked to think we did. They didn’t always align with everyone else’s, though.
I glanced down at the photo before looking back up at Danica, one eyebrow raised in silent question.
She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, tapping a finger against the man’s profile. Dark hair and eyes. A half smirk and head cocked, as if to imply he knew he was pretty to look at. Taken with a long-range camera from an aerial view. Most likely a rooftop.
“Do you know him?” she asked.
I nodded once. Just a dip of my chin. An acknowledgement and nothing more.
“Thought you might.” Danica grinned. “I want him dead.”
My eyes flicked over to Bells, then to Gabby. If either of them noticed my discomfort, they didn’t acknowledge it. “Why not do it yourself?” I countered. “We both know how you make your money, Ms. Rossi.”
“Exactly,” she was quick to reply. “And how I make my money is very dependent on my business connections staying alive. They start popping up dead around me, and suddenly the cash dries up.”
I shrugged a single shoulder. “I’m sure you can make do.
You’re a resourceful girl from what I hear.
” Survived a bullet to the brain. Resourceful was the least of it.
I slid the photo back across the desk towards Danica.
“Besides, there’s a reason we only take on female clients.
We don’t cater to frivolity, just necessity.
And your little vendetta, rivalry, whatever this is…
isn’t a necessity. Please see yourself out, dear. ”
I gestured for Bells to open the door. She side-stepped before swinging it forward with her usual theatric flair.
It was a wonder how she didn’t get made on the job.
I suppose it was sort of like putting a vest on a police dog.
Their personalities completely shifted when they switched into work mode.
Danica jumped up from her seat, her long brown hair swishing behind her. She stopped short when she reached the threshold, peeking back at me without bothering to turn around. “He has a girl with him, you know. At that place.”
“He’s a healthy young man. I’m sure he’s had plenty of girls with him at that place over the years.”
“She’s pregnant.” Danica didn’t explain further. Just shoved the photo into Gabby’s hand and walked out, her boots clanking down the hall. The sound died off when she reached the elevator. She stepped inside and pivoted, narrowing her eyes at me until they disappeared behind the metal doors.
Bells watched Danica go. Then she skipped forward and jumped into a chair—the same chair she refused to sit in when I asked her to do it.
Gabby flicked the photo a few times with her index finger before passing it to Bells. “So… who is he?”
Who is he? That was a very loaded question.
“Dr. Adrian Lambert.” I took a deep breath as the moments ticked by like a death knell, the truth weighing on my chest and bringing on the migraine I could feel brewing in the back of my skull. “My son.”