Chapter 2
Present
Manhattan, New York City
I TAPPED MY FINGER AGAINST the dark glass table, already feeling my muscles tense with irritation.
The last thing I wanted to do was spend my night in an underground office in Midtown, when I could’ve been on a beach in Miami, going to sleep under the stars and summer heat. But instead, I was here, beneath one of the Italian’s nightclubs, watching the seconds pass on the Rolex on my wrist.
They were late.
Gìovanni or Antonio – one of the DeMone brothers, and future Bosses of New York. Not for a couple years though. They were young; Tony not even legally allowed to drink yet, and Gìo not even thirty yet.
I’d known them basically my whole life, and while Gìo and I had hundreds of stories to share from back when we took over North America together – me as Capo of the Diablo Cartel, him as Cosa Nostra’s future Don – he was now busy becoming said Don while I was deep into my gangster retirement, watching over Tony while he had his taste of the fast life his brother and I were long bored with.
Until my younger brother, Zach, and current leader of our family’s business, made me take over again while he took some time off.
Not to relax. But to get back with his girlfriend after some kind of fight.
I didn’t like Maria.
She fucked with his head and made him risk his life for hers.
There was something off about her, and to date I’d never been wrong about sniffing out a rat.
It was how I’d been able to take over the Cartel, build it up into a multi-billion-dollar business over fourteen years and leave unscathed. The moment I saw a snake, I cut off their head.
But Zach would’ve cut mine off if I even looked at Maria the wrong way. So I was backing off for now, something I wasn’t good at but working on. Our relationship was already rocky – always had been – and I didn’t need to make it worse by not approving of his first girlfriend.
I sighed, more pissed off than usual, and checked the time again.
Twenty fucking minutes late.
I liked Gìo and Tony a lot. We were good friends.
But not when they wasted my time or made me wait.
And I didn’t fucking wait for nobody.
In any other circumstances, I would’ve walked out and burned the place down for the disrespect.
But with the shit that’d been happening lately, and the talk about a new drug on the market, we could all use some more money.
What was a couple billion when you make add another three zeroes.
The sound of a heavy door slamming shut caught my attention, making me glance over my shoulder. Through the glass walls of the office, I had a clear view of the dark warehouse.
The two huge men carrying a panicked man in a messed-up suit.
And the woman walking through it.
Blonde hair for days, that looked almost white under the dim underground lights.
Long legs that strode across the cement like she was a model on the runway.
Black high heels with those red bottoms and a big fur coat that bounced with every step and screamed mob-money.
She followed behind the chaos like the quiet in the storm.
But while the soldiers shoved the man in another back room and slammed the door shut behind them, she turned, entering the office I was in, two bodyguards behind her.
Her eyes met mine as she shook off her fur coat, one of her men catching it and holding it on his arm like a human coat-hanger.
My eyes naturally fell to her body, taking in her hourglass figure in that tiny black dress.
Platinum hair, soft and smooth like silk.
Her eyes, pitch void like a black widow.
Bloody lips, the crimson only bringing out her olive skin.
She raised a brow, taking a seat across the table from me. “I was expecting Zachary.”
“I was expecting Gìovanni.”
“Francesca DeMone.”
“Matteo Di’Ablo. You’re late.”
“As you could see, I had to deal with something,” She brushed me off, focused on opening some folders on the desk.
“Don’t let it happen again.”
Her sharp eyes shot up, swallowing my soul in their midnight intensity.
I smirked, though it came out crueler than my usual easy-going facade everyone fell for. “I’ll excuse it tonight since we haven’t met before. But going forward you should know I’m not a man that waits.”
Though her face remained blank, I could see a psychotic spark in her black, dough eyes that… Intrigued me.
She tilted her head, almost sinisterly, but her siren allure masked it into something more sensual. “But you’ve been such a good boy, waiting for me to make time for you.”
A cough came from behind me, clearly meant to cover a laugh of surprise, from one of my soldiers.
“Careful,” I murmured, my eyes never leaving hers.
Francesca raised her brows innocently, not once breaking eye contact as she pretended to make herself more comfortable in her seat.
Running my tongue over my teeth, I leaned back into the armchair, getting more comfortable too. And maybe enjoying myself a little too much.
Clasping my hands, I smiled and gave a nod of my chin. “When you’re ready.”
I saw her jaw clench at my fake authority of giving her permission to proceed. She looked up at the men around us. “Give us the room.”
My men glanced at me for assurance and waited for my nod before walking out with her bodyguards, leaving Francesca and I alone.
One didn’t get eyes like that without breaking something inside. Or someone.
“Your family’s shipments have moved through my ports since before you were born. What’s changed?”
She smiled. Not the kind that made people feel warm. The kind that made a man check his holster.
“I’m expanding.”
“You’re expanding?”
She nodded once. “The East Coast isn’t enough anymore. Not for what I’m building. I’m opening routes all through to the West Coast. West Europe too. Eventually East.”
“That’s Camorra territory,” I said. “And Eastern European lines are choked with the Russians. You’d be walking into a meat grinder.”
Francesca’s smile widened just slightly. “I didn’t come to ask for a history lesson. I came to ask if your ports could handle the expansion. And if the Di’Ablo Cartel is still interested in being more than what it used to be.”
That got a reaction from me. A low laugh, quiet and sharp.
“You think just because I’m in this chair again that I’m hungry for more? I’m not my brother, Francesca. I’m not chasing power anymore.”
“No. But you understand it. Just as you understand that you will want to drop your other West Coast and European clients, and ”
I watched her carefully. The girl wasn’t bluffing. Or if she was, she had the kind of poker face that would make Vegas weep.
Goddamn, she reminded me of myself at that age. Cold. Calculated. Willing to lose something human to gain something untouchable.
And that scared the hell out of me.
“I’m not agreeing on anything without speaking to Gìovanni first,” I said flatly.
Francesca blinked. “He knows I’m here.”
“I don’t care.”
“Then I’ll just find another drug dealer to supply us. Either we shake on it now, or we’re done. For good.”
Now, blondie was getting on my nerves.
“That right?” My voice took that darker edge whenever someone unknowledgeable decided to test me, but she didn’t seem to catch it. Or maybe she really was the first to not give a fuck about who I was.
“I came here to make some fucking money. Not waste my goddamn time with a washed-up Capo.”
The corner of my lip raised with a smirk. “You don’t sugarcoat, do you?”
“We got a deal or not?”
“Gìovanni and your father know you’re throwing your weight around like this, threatening their most essential partner?”
“I might not be the current or future Don, but I’m a lot more important than you think.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart.”
Francesca pushed her chair back with a loud, angry screech against the cement and stood – fully with the intention of walking away.
But I was faster. Older. More experienced.
I’d decapitated more men than she’d ever met in her life.
Still leaned back, and with my legs spread out under the desk, I hooked my foot around the leg of the chair and pulled it back with a hard tug, causing her to fall back down.
A soft gasp escaped her before she could stop herself, an angry blush threatening to stain her cheekbones. Her anger was practically energetically visible, begging to get a release.
I leaned across the desk, hands clasped, close enough she could headbutt me if she wanted to.
Francesca watched me, eyes full-on murderous now.
Mine were stripped of any niceness too, as I spoke in a low tone that was a thousand times for threatening than if I’d had screamed it in her face.
“I ran shit long before Zach took over. Don’t forget who you’re dealing with, pequena.”
Her breath fanned against my face, sweet and a little warm, and my eyes dropped to her red lips. Just for a second.
She moved quick. One arm to the side of her thigh, then in the air before I could blink.
The blade splintered the desk, buried half-deep into the wood.
And exactly in between the pointer and middle fingers of my left hand.
My eyes dropped. Close enough to touch skin. Not close enough to draw blood.
I smirked. Smart girl.
She grabbed me by the unbuttoned collar of my shirt and pulled me in, bringing my eyes back to hers, her face a sheet of paper away. A surprised breath escaped me, the corner of my lips lifting slightly higher.
Her blonde hair flowed around us like a vail, casting her like a jaguar ready to kill. Black eyes, void and deadly.
I could feel the gun in my waistband digging into my skin. Though that wasn’t really the thing I was worried about poking through my pants.
“Don’t underestimate who you’re dealing with. Or you’ll see how easy it is for a woman to take a life, just the same as give one.” Her bewitching eyes took an even darker turn. “And when you get home tonight, make sure to thank your baby brother for keeping your hand attached to your body.”
She breathed hard, chest raising with anger and frustration. Neither looked away. Both caught in a trance.
My hand came up, engulfing hers until she slowly let me pull away, putting some much-needed distance between us.
Her cheekbones were tainted, and I wondered if it was because of her anger or our proximity. Shit, maybe even the feel of my touch on her skin.
Either way, all because of me.
“Alright, princesa,” I spoke with a slow nod. Her eyes turned into slits at the pet name. “You got yourself a deal with the devil.”