Chapter Three
Lorenzo
I curse at the paperwork spread on my desk.
There is no saving the fucking mob from its old-fashioned ways.
It doesn’t fucking matter that I developed software that would require weapons of mass destruction to break into; most people who used to work for my father and, now my brother would rather trust papers than computers. What is this? The sixties?
Matteo welcomed technology in ways that my father's generation never did, but it will take a while before the older generation gets on board.
And it's for that very fucking reason that I’m forced to sift through boxes upon boxes of paperwork.
Something I wouldn't have had to do if all this fucking information had been scanned into the computer.
One key stroke and a command would have cut down on the days I'll need to get through this shit.
Damn it!
I push back from my seat when my eyes begin to ache, taking off my glasses and tossing them on the desk as I get up.
It’s been a long fucking day, and I’m not close to being done.
I don’t bother glancing up at the clock as I walk to the small kitchenette in my office to make myself some instant coffee.
I’ve just about taken the first sip when my phone vibrates on the desk.
Something in me eases before I even walk over and see the caller.
Fiona.
Never in a million years would I have thought that Fiona would really be Var, the woman I fell for from the moment we started chatting.
I didn’t know much about her beyond the fact that she lived in New York and had two older brothers.
Fuck, now that I think about it, she knew more about my life than I knew about hers.
The signs were all there, and maybe I would have connected the dots sooner if I had paid close attention to the little clues she dropped over the years.
I shouldn’t want her. A woman a decade younger than me. So soft and innocent.
So naive.
Smart and perfect.
Fiona O’Shea could do so much better than me, but how the fuck do I leave her alone now? I'm hooked, like a drug. The taste of her still clings to my tongue and my memories, and now, I want everything. I want to be inside of her, showing her just how weak a man can get in the presence of a goddess.
“I knew you’d be up,” she says when I take the call. “Hey, I have a question.”
“What is it?” I ask, taking a sip of my coffee and settling back in my chair.
“Okay, so I bypassed the initial security layers of a system that uses an obscure, custom-built, encrypted algorithm, but I didn’t really get far. I wanted some tips on how I could potentially decrypt the data.”
I smirk. “So that was you who tried to hack into my system two weeks ago.”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” she says, and I can almost see the flush on her cheeks. I’m so tempted to ask for a video call so I can confirm that she is indeed blushing.
“I have set up a system that alerts me every time someone pokes into my devices,” I say, recalling the alert I got two weeks ago of an intrusion into my system, but I didn’t think much of it since they never got far enough to worry me. “Why were you poking into my system anyway?”
“I was curious about Lorenzo Rossi, the golden retriever of the Rossi family. I wanted to hack into your system to see if you were hiding any secrets.”
Fuck, that’s hot. Now, I can’t help but imagine Fiona lying in her bed with her pink walls and pink bedding, tapping frantically on her laptop as she tries to break a system I’ve worked on for years.
“I find it impressive enough that you managed to peel back the first layer in such a short amount of time.”
“I didn't get far, though.”
“You got far enough,” I hum, sipping my coffee. “So, did you call me to give you tips on how to hack into a system I built five years ago?”
“Are you offering?”
I laugh, feeling some of the day’s exhaustion slide off my shoulders.
“Are you saying you can’t get through the second layer without my help?
” I smile when she makes a low sound, and I can almost picture her eyes lighting up with challenge.
“I’ll grant a wish if you get through the second layer without setting off an intruder alert. ”
“Hmm, I would rather help you out with whatever it is that’s got you stressed.”
The smile freezes on my lips, and I put the coffee down. “I’m not stressed,” I say, staring down at the stack of papers on my desk and floor. “Just busy.”
“The other night, you said you couldn’t use your aides for this project. Why don’t you let me help you?”
I consider it. In all honesty, it’s not the first time I’ve thought about asking her for help. To be fair, she was Var when I considered it, but she was a stranger then. Now that I know who she is, there is an added level of trust.
“What I am about to tell you cannot get out,” I start, thinking of the risk I am about to take right now. “Promise me this, Fiona.”
“I promise,” she whispers, her voice soft. “You can trust me, Lorenzo. I would never betray you.”
I take a few more minutes to think about what I’m about to do and realize that I’m opening not just my world to Fiona O'Shea but also my heart. I'm trusting her.
“We believe there is a leak in the Rossi organization. Someone who has been selling our information to the cops and stealing from us,” I speak, exhaling as the words come out.
“Most of the people we work with are a little old-fashioned, so I have to sift through hard copies and then move to the soft copies to trace any inconsistencies.”
“And my guess is you started with the hard copies?”
I look back at the boxes and sigh. “Your guess would be right.”
There is a shuffling noise in the background before her voice comes on again. “I just grabbed my laptop. I’m here to start on anything you need me to.”
“Fiona…” I start, glancing at the load of work. “There’s a lot to be done. You don’t need to start right away.”
“We can work together,” she says. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
No, it wouldn’t. “Alright, how about we discuss what you could help with, and you can start on it tomorrow.” I wait until she's agreed with the plan to carry on.
“I'm going through employee files to narrow it all down based on who has access to the shipment schedules and business accounts. Then I will send you a list of those people, and I want you to investigate them.”
“Like hack into their bank accounts to trace funds to see if there’s an influx or something like that?”
“No,” I say. That would be too easy, but the mob doesn't deal with digital currency unless it's untraceable. Whoever has been stealing from us has been taking it in the form of cash. “I want you to hack into their computers and get me everything you can on them.”
“Oh, that’s simple.”
“No, it’s not,” I laugh at the eagerness in her voice.
“I designed a closed, off-network system for the highest-level employees. Each computer is self-contained—no network sharing, only physical backups. It’s why my system isn't hackable remotely. It would even take me a lot of time I don’t have to hack into my own system.
You’ll have to go in physically and get into their computers. ”
There is silence for a moment before she chirps excitedly. “Like a spy or an undercover detective.”
I laugh, “Yes, if you like.” I take another sip of my coffee, but it’s already gone cold. “They won’t recognize you, so you’ll be able to gain access to the offices of the suspects without raising any flags.”
“Oh my God, do I get to go in dressed like an IT girl or repair person like in the movies? I'm so wearing glasses and a sexy outfit like the women in those spy shows.” The smile drops from my lips at lightning speed.
“No sexy outfits are required, Fiona.”
“But then how will I distract everyone while I poke around in their computers?”
“Not in a sexy outfit, that’s for sure,” I argue, already picturing the necks I’m going to break if one of those men so much as glances her way. So I try for a different strategy. “Aren’t spies always covered top to bottom in black? Pantsuits or something like that?”
Fiona is silent for a while before she chuckles, her voice soft and seductive. “You’re jealous.”
“Damn right I am,” I push, wishing I were near her so I could show her who she belongs to. “No sexy outfits, Fiona.”
“Hmm, so no crop tops and short skirts?”
I suck in a sharp breath, my dick hardening in seconds. A growl climbs out of my throat at the image of Fiona, all that smooth milky skin barely covered. “Is that what you're wearing right now?”
“No.”
“What are you wearing?”
Long beats of silence follow, and I'm not certain she's going to answer until my phone vibrates in my ear.
I pull it down to see she's sent an attachment.
I open it, cursing under my breath when I see it's a picture of Fiona in the shortest shorts I’ve ever seen, exposing those long legs and a white, thin strapped top that reveals the outline of her tits and the hardened peaks of her nipples.
Fuck.
“I don’t think I’d make it past security with this outfit on.”
“Are you trying to kill me?” I groan, staring at the image and picturing the face she left out.
Those big blue eyes and that sexy pouty mouth that looked so fucking good stretched around my cock.
I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want Fiona O’Shea in this moment.
I’m tempted to damn all this work to hell and seek her out.
Mine.
Every inch of this girl belongs to me, and I’m afraid of the monster I'll become if anyone else dares to get in the way.
“Don’t you like my outfit?”
Tease. “Take it off,” I order, rubbing a finger over my screen and tracing those luscious tits, wishing for the real thing. “I want you out of those shorts, now.”
“W-what?”
“Do it!”
“Ah… okay.” I hear some shuffling in the background before her soft voice comes back on the line again. “They’re off.”
“The top too.”
She sucks in a sharp breath. “Y-you want me naked?”