Francesca #2
“Five million euros worth of arms—easily.” Leo spoke from the couch, his sleeves rolled up because his anger turned the room hot and humid like summer. “Someone is gonna lose their head, and if we can’t figure out exactly who, then they all lose their heads.”
My father ignored him, probably tuning him out.
“This is the second time this has happened,” Elio said. “Now they’re just fucking with us.”
“They’re totally fucking with us,” Leo said. “The customs officers are getting bribed to pretend to honor our bribes—clearly.”
I wasn’t exactly a part of this world. I treated the wounded and took care of the wine business and strategically washed the money that came from the side business. If the police ever busted us, my hands were dirty enough to serve life in prison.
My father turned around and addressed Elio. “What do our little birds say?”
“They don’t know anything—or that’s all they’re allowed to say,” Elio said.
“Maybe we should ask Wolfe,” I said. “He might know something.” I’d kept the robbery a secret from him because my father didn’t trust him, so therefore, I didn’t either. I’d just wanted to fuck him because he was unbelievably hot. And the hotter the guy, the more untrustworthy he was.
“No,” my father snapped. “I don’t trust him.”
“You trust him enough to be on our property every day,” I said. “It doesn’t hurt just to ask—”
“I trust him even less now,” he snapped. “He hasn’t been privy to confidential information, but there’s no doubt he’s a smart guy, so he may have pieced details together, looked through records he found lying around. Might have tipped someone off about the shipment.”
“I think that’s a stretch.” I wasn’t sure what to make of Wolfe, but that seemed like a lot of work just to steal some guns.
“It was probably him,” my father said.
Since I’d been with him all night, that was just not possible. But I couldn’t exactly say that. “It’s not him,” I said more forcefully.
My father gave me that stare that told me my opinion didn’t matter right now.
“Should we still have the dinner tonight?” Leo asked. “In light of all this?”
“It’s not the workers’ fault,” Dad said. “They shouldn’t be punished for it.” He turned to Elio. “We need to make the rounds. Ask everyone we know. Someone will roll. They always do.”
I was in my office on the second floor of the villa when Wolfe texted me. Free tonight?
I read his message three times because I hadn’t expected to talk to him again. No.
Tomorrow, then?
Already have plans.
You better not be blowing me off, Francesca. I could hear the authority in his voice when I read his message.
I thought we agreed last night was a one-time thing.
I never agreed to that.
Well, that’s what it was to me.
Damn, I guess I’m not as good in bed as I thought.
No, that definitely wasn’t the problem. I thought about texting a more thorough explanation, but I decided to let the conversation die. He was a man who got pussy left and right. He would just find someone new tonight…and then someone new tomorrow…and so on.
About fifteen minutes later, Angelica called my name from downstairs. “Frankie, you’ve got a patient!”
My eyes lifted from the laptop as my heart dropped into my stomach.
Because I knew.
I just fucking knew.
A moment later, he rounded the corner into my office with the biggest smile on his face.
“I brought your supplies,” Angelica said as she placed the suture kit on the table along with everything else I needed, and then she left.
He continued to smirk as he walked to one of the chairs facing my desk and took a seat, holding a towel to his other forearm.
I stared at him blankly for several seconds, unable to believe the lengths this man would go to to get my attention. “Are you serious right now?”
He removed the towel to show the nasty cut he’d given himself. The blood started to pour out. “How else am I supposed to talk to you face-to-face?”
My eyes shifted back to him. “You’re crazy.”
He returned the towel to the wound and applied pressure. “Not the first time I’ve heard that. So, are you going to help me, Nurse Francesca?”
I gave a slight shake of my head before I came around the desk and sat beside him.
I removed the towel and examined the flesh wound, which was pretty deep, like he’d cut himself pretty badly.
I shook my head again, unable to believe he’d done something so reckless just to get into my office without suspicion.
I cleaned the wound first then got to work. “You’re going to ruin all this ink you paid a fortune for.”
He stared at me like he wasn’t listening to a word I said. “Have dinner with me.”
I opened the suture kit then placed it on the desk, scooting my chair close to his, and I got to work on the stitches. “Look, you’re super-hot and you’re great in bed, but that was just a one-time thing for me, alright?”
“Why?”
“Because.”
He gave a quiet chuckle.
“What?”
“I swear everything you do just turns me on.”
I stopped what I was doing to look him head on. “Saying no is a turn-on?”
“It’s the way you say it. Like you don’t owe me an explanation. So fucking hot.” He continued to smirk as he looked at me, his eyes full of potent admiration. “I’ve never had a type before, but now that I’ve met you, I know it’s you—to a T.”
I held his gaze for a heartbeat, feeling the confidence that constantly emitted from him, and then focused on the wound again. “I don’t mix business with pleasure, but I made a one-time exception for you. So now, let’s pretend like nothing happened and move on with our lives.”
He was quiet.
I lifted my gaze to glance at him.
He was still smirking.
“Did you hear what I said?”
“Come on. What’s the real reason?”
“That is the real reason.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Maybe you aren’t my type.”
Then he released a quick, loud laugh. “I’m everyone’s type—except gay women and straight men.”
“Cristo, you’re arrogant.” I pierced the needle into his flesh, this time digging a little harder than necessary on purpose.
He didn’t flinch. “Have dinner with me.” His voice softened now, back to his agenda.
“I’m starting to wonder if my father was right about you.”
“What does that mean?”
“That you’re a mole who will destroy us from the inside. Your first step is to fuck Vincenzo Mancini’s daughter as a big fuck-you before you do whatever else you have planned.”
His eyebrows immediately furrowed. “That’s not my style.”
“Then you just like women who are off-limits? Maybe that’s your type.”
“That’s not it either.”
“Then what is it, Wolfe?” I snapped. “We had our night together, and it’s done.”
He studied me with his eyes, razor-sharp, hard, and piercing. “What aren’t you telling me?”
I finished his stitches then cleaned the wound once more.
“Are you married? Have a boyfriend?”
“Wow.”
“I don’t have a problem stealing you from a lesser man—”
“Don’t insult me,” I said. “I don’t want to get involved with any of my father’s men. I’ve been down this road before, and I don’t want to walk down it again, alright?” That was the most I was willing to share with him.
He held my stare, unblinking, like he was desperate to know more but wouldn’t cross the boundary that I set.
“If I left your father’s employment, would you give me a chance?”
I held his stare, surprised he was willing to do that. “No. You really aren’t my type, Wolfe. Not in appearance or personality or anything like that, but in a different way.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, and a solid minute passed. Then that smirk moved over his lips when he seemed to figure it out. “Now I understand. Because I’m a criminal—and you’re looking for an upstanding citizen.”
I stared at the dirty suture kit that sat on the table.
He released a chuckle.
My gaze shifted back to him as my eyebrow cocked.
“That’s not what you want.”
“Excuse me?”
“You really see yourself settling down with a dentist or some shit?” he asked incredulously. “A boring life of mediocrity and bullshit?”
“I don’t care how boring or mediocre it is—as long as he comes home at the end of the day.”
Now his stare changed entirely, softening in a way it never had before.
He seemed to read all my secrets as if I’d written them on my face in permanent ink.
His eyes flicked back and forth between mine as he continued to absorb my energy, as he continued to feel everything I tried to suppress deep inside me.
Then he gave a slow nod as if he finally understood. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
My eyes flicked away.
But he continued to stare at me. Stare hard. Stare like he would never stop. “But that wouldn’t happen with me.”
“Your arrogance is the thing that’s going to get you killed, Wolfe.”
He didn’t raise his voice. In fact, he lowered it. “Look at me.”
I kept my eyes on the suture kit.
His hand reached for my neck, and he gently turned my face and forced me to meet his stare.
“Francesca.” His warm fingers remained pressed against my cold skin, authoritative but also soft, reminding me of our night together and the way he could take me hard one moment and then gently the next.
“If you were my woman, nothing would stop me from coming home to you.”