Chapter 10 Frankie
Chapter ten
Frankie
“Is there a reason you’ve stopped giving reports on the kid?” Don Vicellia asks, fingers steepled in front of his lips.
He’s an intimidating man in his sixties, and while his short hair is gray and his face is lined with winkles, he’s not frail.
Imagining him as such would be the last mistake I make.
I’ve seen him in swim trunks, and he’s as fit as any twenty-year-old and far more vicious.
Even if he wasn’t a mafia Don, he’s powerful enough in his own right that only a complete numbskull would try to fuck with him.
His cold brown eyes regard me silently, and I return his stare. I learned long ago that the only way to survive in this world is to never show fear. To never give someone that sort of ammunition to use against me.
“I give Antonio my daily report like always, sir,” I reply. It’s the truth, even though I withhold just about everything I do while I’m with Seth.
Vincent gives a noncommittal response, looking down at his desk, even though there’s nothing in front of him except a single yellow Post-it.
“And yet you failed to mention that you entered the kid’s apartment and were there for several hours just last night. And that last night wasn’t the first time you’ve done so.”
My fingers twitch against my thighs, and I’m grateful that the desk blocks his view as I slowly clench my fists. Did Antonio suddenly develop the ability to make an independent decision, or did Vincent have me tailed?
Either way, the fact that I was so focused on getting back to Seth that I didn’t pick up on someone following me is a problem. I can’t have those sorts of problems doing what I do.
Another thought comes, unbidden to me. It’s possible he used magic to keep tabs on me. I don’t know how to feel about that if it’s true. Does he not trust me, or does he want to make sure I’m safe?
“So, what were you doing?”
“The kid takes sleeping pills. He never lets his laptop out of his sight, so I figured the best way to go through it was while he was asleep.” The lie falls from my lips without hesitation.
It wasn’t technically a lie. I have never seen him without that laptop.
He even takes it to work with him and stashes it in a locker.
Vincent raises one brow in amusement. “And?”
For just a moment, panic flickers through my gut. Answering this question means I will have to access Seth’s laptop to ensure I don’t end up on the wrong side of a gun. “And I haven’t found anything. At least nothing that points back to his uncle.”
Vincent gives me another piercing stare. If I were a lesser man, I would shrink before that shrewd look. “If there’s something else going on with the boy…” He trails off, leaving room for my confession. Fuck that!
“Something else? Like what, exactly?” I’m not a social butterfly.
Hanging out with the guys in the crew and talking about my conquests has never interested me.
I know there’ve been whispers, rumors of how I spend my time, but so long as it doesn’t interfere with Family business, I don’t see it as any of their business.
If it had been ten or fifteen years ago, rumor of anyone in the Family being queer would have meant a bullet to the head. Now? It’s tolerated so long as it’s kept quiet.
“Listen, Frankie, you are an asset to me. I don’t care who gets your dick wet. However, If I believe it’s hindering you from operating at the capacity I have come to expect, I will issue the order to terminate him. Do I make myself clear?”
A wave of protectiveness has me choking on a low growl, and I have to hastily clear my throat in the hopes Vincent doesn’t notice. “Have my loyalties ever been in question, sir?”
I stiffen when he narrows his eyes. “No, but you’ve also never become this fixated with a mark before. These sorts of changes in behavior are…concerning.”
“There’s nothing to be concerned about with regard to the boy.” I keep my expression neutral, though I’m pretty certain I’ve dug trenches into my palms from my fingernails. My wolf is snarling in my head, demanding that I shift and put the Don in his place. But that is a suicide move.
“See that it doesn’t.” With a last piercing look, he pulls his phone from his pocket, effectively dismissing me. Bowing my head, I get to my feet and quickly leave his office, not uncurling my fists until I step into the elevator.
Unfortunately, as I step into the lobby, my quick departure is interrupted by the nasally voice of Antonio. “I’d heard rumors of your proclivities, but to fuck the nephew of a rat is a new low, even for you.”
I turn to face the man with a sneer. I’ve never cared for Antonio, even when we were younger.
He always thought himself more important to the organization than he is, claiming to have the Don’s ear and special privilege when it’s obvious he’s nothing but a somewhat tolerated go-fer.
As far as I know, he doesn’t even have any magic to call his own.
His black hair is slicked back, trying to go for that distinguished businessman look, but his hair is too greasy and limp for it to work.
His wide-set watery brown eyes seem too small for his fleshy face, and his mouth is turned down in disgust. I have the intense urge to wipe that look off his face.
I barely recognize the hot rush of fury before I have the smaller man by the throat and pin him against the wall.
His little weasel eyes open wide, his face turning purple at the sudden attack.
He grips my wrist in his pudgy hands, and I absently wonder if I can squeeze hard enough to force his eyes to bug out of his skull.
“Now, now, Antonio. It isn’t very smart of you to poke the wolf. The only rumors you should really be concerning yourself with are the ones surrounding you, wouldn’t you say? We all know about Madam Opal and little Hannah.”
I bare my teeth at him in a sinister smile, fingers squeezing just a bit harder before I let him go and step back. Choking, he stumbles away from me, one hand rubbing his throat while the other pats down the front of his button-down.
“You need to remember your place. You’re just some stray Vincent felt sorry for and trained up to be his attack dog. But you work for us,” Antonio sneers.
I blink at him, momentarily stunned at his words. I’m aware of Antonio’s delusions of grandeur, but I didn’t realize he was seriously this stupid. And as much as I want to get out of here, the urge to put this sniveling little weasel in his place is too strong to ignore.
“I agree. I think maybe we should go back up there and you can tell Don Vicellia about my transgressions yourself.” Antonio’s eyes widen comically at my suggestion.
The man is a coward, so this could go one of two ways.
Either he’ll blubber his way out of here or he’ll take me up on the offer and get ripped apart by a very pissed off Mafia Don.
A part of me hopes he stomps his way up to Vincent’s office, thinking he’s going to get a pat on the back.
An ugly grin spreads across his face as he straightens his posture, trying to add an additional inch or two of height to his rounded frame. “I think that’s the smartest thing that’s come out of that mouth of yours.”
“Then by all means, let him know. I’m sure he’ll be pleased.” It takes an extreme amount of effort to keep from rolling my eyes at him, but I manage. In fact, I even give him a cheery wave as he gets into the elevator. A wave goodbye. I imagine this will be the last time I see his annoying face.
As much as I want to be a fly on the wall of Vincent’s office for that particular conversation, I have other things to do. Namely, my actual job. Which includes double-checking the drop off for tonight’s shipment of weapons.
Blowing out a breath, I make my way to my blacked-out SUV, sliding into the cool interior. It’s still early spring, but the heat wave sweeping through the state has me blasting the AC.
Grumbling, I head toward one of our warehouses north of the city. It’s situated right at the edge of the train yard, between corporate warehouses and stacks of large, colorful shipping containers. Half of the shipping containers belong to us and house large portions of our operations.
At first, I questioned the wisdom of keeping so much of our incriminating evidence in such close proximity. That is, until I came out here myself for the first time and saw just how easy it was to hide things within the maze of containers.
Tonight’s shipment will arrive via the port, the containers mixed in with the normal assortment of cargo. All I really need to do is check the security for the warehouse and makesure all our current containers are secured, and my work will be done.
Lirael is heading the team that will take control of the delivery, and I have no worries with him in charge.
He’s smart, dependable, and can hold his own.
Hell, he has the port police that work the area practically eating out of his palm.
I’m fairly certain he’s some sort of incubus with the way everyone follows him around like a love-sick puppy.
It helps that he’s a sociopath and can seamlessly blend in with whatever persona he needs to do the job. While his methods are questionable, he gets the job done, and that’s all I need him to do.
Finishing my patrol through the maze of containers, I let myself into the warehouse.
It’s not a large one, roughly thirty thousand square feet, but it’s more than enough room for our operations.
The front door spills straight into a reception area that looks like it’s on the more luxurious side of middle-class.
The waiting room is painted in shades of blue with highlights of red, yellow, and orange tastefully placed throughout. There’s a single security guard at the desk, protected by a bulletproof shield.