Chapter 2
2
Max
“ W e’ve got a problem, Max,” Bill says, his voice low and steady. “The Feds are sniffing around the loan business again.”
He stands across from my desk, his expression unreadable as he flips through a file. Bill is the one man I trust without hesitation, the only one who’d been with the family before I was even born. He’s a fixture, an institution in his own right, and the closest thing I have to a father now that mine has passed. He serves as consigliere in our organization and hasn’t let our ship run aground in his decades of service.
I lean back in my chair, steepling my fingers as I processed the information.
“Again?” I groan, a headache forming at my temples. “Didn’t we just deal with this a few months ago? I thought we’d taken care of it.”
“We did,” Bill replies. “But it’s heating up again. They’re looking into some of the older accounts. The ones from before we cleaned house.”
I frown, a flicker of irritation sparking in my chest. The loan business has been a thorn in my side ever since I took over. My father had built it on shaky ground, skimming just enough to keep the Feds at bay but never enough to truly clean up. When I stepped in, I’d made it a priority to straighten things out. We’d shifted to more legitimate ventures, diversified our portfolio, and cut ties with the worst offenders. But there are still parts of our organization that are difficult to legitimize, and we have to keep eyes off of those ventures as much as possible.
“How bad is it?” I ask, my mind already working overtime to figure out what we can do to fix the situation.
Bill hesitates, which isn’t a good sign.
“It’s not catastrophic,” he assures me. “Yet. But if they find something solid, they could make things difficult for us. Might be time to take another look at the old accounts, see if there’s anything we missed.”
“Do it,” I say without hesitation. “I want a full audit. Whatever they’re looking for, we’ll find it first and take care of it.”
Bill nods, his expression grim but resolute. “Already on it, kid,” he says affectionately, calling me the moniker he only used when other people aren’t around.
No matter how old I get or how much power I wield, I will always be “kid” to him, and I don’t mind. When other people are around, he calls me “boss”. It’s what makes our relationship so strong. There are levels to it, and I know I can trust him with my life. Loyalty runs deep.
Before I can say anything else, the door to my office opens, and one of my men, Diego, steps in, dragging another man by the collar. The latter is younger, maybe early twenties, his face pale and his eyes wide with fear.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice sharp.
“Caught him skimming,” Diego says, shoving the younger man forward. “Couple grand missing from the books. Figured you’d want to handle it.”
The kid stumbles but manages to catch himself, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender.
“Mr. DiStefano, please, it’s not what it looks like,” he pleads in one desperate breath. “I swear, I didn’t mean to —”
“Stop,” I order, cutting him off with a single word. My tone is quiet, but it carries the weight of authority, and he snaps his mouth shut immediately.
Rising from my chair, I walk around the desk, each step deliberate. The kid flinches as I approach, his fear rolling off him in waves.
“What’s your name?” I ask, keeping my tone firm but light.
“Tony,” he stammers. “Tony Russo.”
“Well, Tony Russo, do you know what happens to people who steal from me?” I ask, my words calm and measured.
He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’ve heard stories,” he answers quietly, his face becoming even paler.
“Good,” I say, stepping closer until I’m towering over him. “Because those stories are true. Every single one of them. And if you ever try to take something from me again, you’ll find out firsthand just how true they are. Understand?”
Tony nods so quickly it’s almost comical. “Yes, sir. I understand. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I swear,” his words came out stumbling over each other, his cowardice disgusting me.
I study him for a long moment, letting the silence stretch until the tension in the room is almost unbearable. Then, finally, I step back.
“You’re lucky I’m in a forgiving mood,” I say. “Consider this your one and only warning. I want that money replaced by the end of the day. Now get out of my sight.”
Tony doesn’t need to be told twice. He practically bolts from the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall. I turn back to Bill, who is watching me with a raised eyebrow.
“You’re getting soft, Max,” he says, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Maybe,” I admit. “But I’d rather he learn his lesson the easy way than make me go through the trouble of teaching it the hard way. I’m not as young as I used to be.”
Bill nods, his expression thoughtful. “Fair enough.” He chuckles. “You don’t have to tell me about aging.”
My phone buzzes on the desk. I glance at the screen and see Natalia’s name. Frowning, I pick it up. She rarely calls unless it was something important.
“What is it, Nat?” I ask, my voice softening instinctively. She is the one person who could bring that out in me without even trying.
“It’s Sabrina,” she says, her tone tight with worry.
That name echoes around my head vaguely as I try to remember who Sabrina is. Natalia has so many friends flit in and out of her life. It only takes a moment to place her though. Sabrina, of course. She’s been Natalia’s best friend since they were young. Maybe first grade or kindergarten? The years all blur together.
“What about her?” I ask, my stomach tightening, imagining the worst. Considering how long it has been since I’ve heard her name, I know that whatever Natalia is going to tell me will not be good news.
“She’s been hurt,” Natalia says. “Her asshole of a fiancé nearly broke her jaw. She’s lucky she doesn’t need surgery.”
“Slow down, Nat.” I stop her quick rant. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it, but Nat is clearly calling because she wants me to fix it somehow. “What happened?”
“It’s a long story,” Natalia says. “She’s staying at her dad’s place tonight. I’m taking her there as soon as they discharge her.”
I don’t even think before responding. “I’ll meet you there, just text me the address.”
Natalia hesitates. “Oh, no, Max, you don’t have to do that,” she says hesitantly, though we both know that is exactly what she wants. Even at twenty-five, she has me wrapped around her finger, just like she did when she was a kid. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your night.”
“I said I’ll meet you there,” I repeat, my tone leaving no room for argument.
After we hang up, I stand there for a moment, my mind racing. I’m not sure why I feel so compelled to go. Sabrina isn’t my responsibility. I haven’t seen the girl in nearly a decade, but the image of her hurt riles me up. She had always been a sweet girl, open to the world despite losing her mom at a young age. I can’t shake the image of her hurt and vulnerable and can’t ignore the twinge of protectiveness that had flared to life at Natalia’s words. It isn’t just about Sabrina. It’s about loyalty, about family, and she has always been part of ours.
“I need to go,” I tell Bill as I grab my coat. “I’ve got something I need to take care of.”
He nods, leaving my office with me.
“Everything okay?” he asks as we walk out of the building together.
“Just an issue with an old family friend.”
My phone buzzes in my hand and I look down to see the address Natalia sent me. It isn’t too far from my office. I bid goodnight to Bill and take off.
Sabrina’s dad lives in a not-so-great area of town. My mind is a whirlwind of memories of the young girl who’d grown into a lovely young woman. I think about the first time I met her, a tiny girl with a mop of brown hair and eyes that seemed far too big for her face. She’d been quiet then, shy, but it hadn’t taken long for her to come out of her shell around Natalia. Soon enough, she was practically part of the family, always at our house, always underfoot.
I didn’t pay much more attention to her back then than I did to Natalia. After all, I was already twenty-five when she started coming around. I got roped into babysitting a few times, but other than that, I barely paid attention to her. Even as a young kid, though, she could be precocious and thought-provoking. She had a way of drawing people in, of making them feel seen. It was a quality that could be both a blessing and a curse, and I’d always worried that someone would take advantage of it.
And now, it seemed, someone had. It turns my stomach to think of that young, innocent girl being taken advantage of. And even though she’s a full-grown adult now, I wasn’t going to stand by and watch her suffer.