Chapter 16 #5
Matthew’s voice held an edge that Beckett hadn’t heard before.
Leaping into action, Beckett rushed to open the door for Evil Rosario.
The man sneered at Beckett as he passed him, making Matthew chuckle as walked up to Beckett.
The bald brothers shuffled out after the Evil Rosario, scanning the lobby and taking up positions around their boss.
They disappeared down the hallway with the overhead lighting glancing off their polished heads.
“A dog?” a woman asked from behind him.
Beckett spun to face her. Beautiful, sultry, and confident, she had perfectly shaped brows that were currently arched in disbelief.
“Nickel,” Matthew acknowledged with a nod. He petted the top of his head with his index and middle fingers. Nickel whimpered in open adoration.
“A little early for a midlife crisis, no?” she asked teasingly with a smile.
“My therapist recommended it,” Matthew lied smoothly—although Beckett supposed it wasn’t a complete lie. It was Franklin’s dog, and Franklin had been Matthew’s therapist at one point—
“And a German Shepherd was too expensive?” she asked jokingly.
Beckett assumed this was Matthew’s sister. They had similar features. Beautiful faces with high cheekbones and refined features, similar to Hayes in their extraordinarily attractive genetic gifts.
“Listen—I’m all for a big package, but there’s a limit to what a man can carry,” Beckett said, inserting himself into the conversation, which noticeably irritated Matthew’s sister.
“Smart mouths usually get wired shut before they make it this far up the ladder,” she said, her eyes narrowed warningly, a clear threat in her hazel eyes.
“He’s on loan from Mr. Kent,” Matthew said with a chuckle. “You know he likes them—spicy.”
She snorted as she eyed Beckett suspiciously.
“Isn’t he a little too fair haired for that old scrooge?” she asked doubtfully.
“Maybe the carpet doesn’t match the drapes,” Matthew suggested with a wink. His sister threw back her head and laughed, then tossed her long hair over her shoulder, and walked away.
Beckett had that unpleasant, squirmy feeling again—the one he’d felt when they’d first been asked to work for Mr. Kent. Like he was a piece of meat at an auction. He subdued the urge to cover his private parts with his hands and scream “stranger-danger!”
At that moment, two men came barrelling towards them, bickering at one another in Italian.
Not stopping to speak to Matthew or to thank Beckett for holding the door open for them, they barged out of the meeting room.
Hayes appeared in front of Beckett, cool, calm, and collected—as fucking always.
He grinned at Beckett with a suggestive, sexy vibe that had not existed before he’d learned to take Beckett’s cock in his mouth.
“Thought I told you to trip ‘em,” Beckett said, unable to hide his own smile. Fuck, did his man look good. He carried himself in that confident, arrogant way that spoke of money and power, which was identical to that of the Rosarios. But Hayes wore it much better.
“And miss out on seeing you held at gunpoint—again?” Hayes tsked, like Beckett’s suggestion was ridiculous.
“Yes. Ever so entertaining,” Matthew said sarcastically. “I thought we’d agreed you’d stick by the door. Act like a goddamned bodyguard,” he hissed with a surprising amount of venom.
“Nickel did need a tinkle, and then I snooped a little,” Beckett shrugged.
“You snooped a little?” Matthew asked, glancing around for eavesdroppers.
“How about we escort you back to your car, Mr. Rosario,” Hayes suggested tersely, after a meaningful look off to his right.
Beckett spun around to follow Hayes’ line of sight.
“Giorgio,” Beckett said softly for Hayes’ benefit.
“Dillan?” Matthew called out to the man currently crossing the lobby in long, hurried strides.
He stopped suddenly, the leather soles of his dress shoes squeaking on the polished floor as he turned to face Matthew.
“Mr. Rosario,” he greeted him pleasantly, with a bright smile. “Is everything alright? Your uncle notified me that the meeting was over—is there something you needed?” he asked, fidgeting slightly as if he wanted to keep on the move, even as he remained perfectly polite.
“No, no,” Matthew said, shaking his head. “Just wanted to make sure everything was okay—I saw you slip out of the meeting earlier. You looked concerned.” Matthew spoke with a distinct undertone that Beckett translated to “Go ahead and lie to me, I fucking dare you.”
Dillan—Giorgio—smiled a toothpaste commercial smile and shook his head. “Nothing of importance, I assure you. Simple business transactions—problems with construction and customs,” he shrugged off Matthew’s concern. “If there’s nothing else, sir, your uncle is waiting—”
Matthew dismissed him with a wave of his hand, and Dillan took off. His stride was just as hurried as before, as if the devil himself was chasing him.
“Smell that?” Beckett said, watching Dillan’s hasty exit.
“What?” Hayes asked, sniffing the air in confusion.
“Bullshit—that boy reeks of it.”
Matthew snorted and shook his head.