Chapter 18 – Alessandro
A knock on my door interrupted the tangle of thoughts. The emails were endless. Just when I thought I was seeing the bottom of the pile there were dozens more flying into my inbox.
“Come in,” I barked.
When no one announced themselves after the door swung open, I looked up sharply and sucked in a tight breath. My wife stood in front of my desk, having ghosted on featherlight steps across the room. She was barefoot, toes painted a pretty purple shade. There were bandages on her heels and across a few toes. I frowned at that. Those were the only unsettling details about her. Those and the fact that she’d made no noise entering.
No one surprised me; no one snuck up on me either.
I leaned back and studied her. There was a nervous air swirling about her, but she was working very hard to keep it hidden.
Cute. So very cute.
“They said you wanted to see me first thing,” she said by way of explanation.
Wet hair hung down her back instead of braided tight. It was a darker shade of brown that could have been black in the right light. Her face was freshly washed and bare. The clothes she wore were simple but completed the picture perfectly. Mio Dio, she was stunning.
“Thank you for these,” she gestured to the plain black tee and jean shorts.
My gaze immediately swept down her toned, tanned legs. An ache pulsed in my groin, and I shifted in my seat. “You’re welcome. Everything fit?”
She nodded. “The care package the maid dropped off was a good surprise. These clothes are perfect. I was half expecting to wear the bridesmaid dress until my luggage came.”
They were perfect. Not the typical clothing of a Made Man’s wife, but they suited this country girl, which was what I’d instructed the maid when I sent her shopping. I wanted Penelope to be comfortable.
“Yes, well, I don’t expect your uncle to be sending that anytime soon.”
Her eyes flashed. “Not even my backpack? I had my laptop and journals and…things in there!”
I held up a hand. “I’ve put in a request that it be packed up and sent immediately, but knowing him, he’ll delay to spite us.”
“I don’t even have a charger.” She lifted her phone and sighed. “I don’t suppose you have one I could borrow?”
I peered at the device. “I’m not sure, but we can figure it out.”
“Okay. Good.” She shifted, letting out the smallest bit of nervous energy.
I glanced at my watch and let out a sharp whistle. “You’re up early.”
Penelope shrugged. “My internal clock is up with the sun.”
Mine too. Hmm…something in common.
I cleared my throat. “This came for you.”
I held out the black card. She took it and her brows nearly shot to her forehead. “It has my name on it.”
“It’s yours, why wouldn’t it?” I hummed, keeping my amusement under wraps. Now was the moment of truth, to see how she reacted to the untold wealth at her fingertips. “It’s already been activated, and there’s no spending cap. If you’d like, you can take a driver and a guard to go shopping for whatever else you need.”
Penelope nodded slowly, eyes still glued to the card. “I didn’t realize credit cards could be so heavy.”
My lip twitched despite the rigid control. So very cute. “One thing you will need to pick up, there will be several important dinners in the upcoming weeks. I need you to have some outfits prepared for those events. My assistant Luca can send you an itinerary if you need help preparing for them.”
As I spoke, her eyes closed. Clenching her jaw tight enough for her molars to crack, she took a deep breath. Her nostrils flared and her chest heaved. When she opened them, the full weight of that hazel gaze fell on me, all traces of annoyance were wiped away.
The effect was unsettling.
“Of course, dear, whatever you need.” She beamed at me, a completely different woman.
I would have preferred the wildcat with claws to this forced ball of bubbles and rainbows.
“And the charger,” I added. “Don’t forget your charger.”
The flicker deep in her eyes told me she was mad. Good. She would spend a ton of money to get back at me. The fun was just beginning. Watching her burn my money was going to be the highlight of my day. It would be a game to distract me from the mountains of work that piled up while I was gone.
And it would give her something to do to distract her from this new life. Penelope was used to a life where she came and went as she pleased. Today she would learn that was no longer the case. Bodyguards were absolutely necessary, and they had orders only to take her to certain places.
She didn’t comment on the restriction as she turned to go.
“Hold up.” I rose from my chair and followed her to the door.
“Is this the part where you tell me what else I’m supposed to do with my day?” she sniped oh, so sweetly.
I shook my head. “This is the part where I kiss my wife good morning.”
Penelope’s shocked expression was priceless. I caught her in my arms before she could flee. My lips cut off her protest.
Her fists clenched against my chest, as I pulled that decadent body tightly against me and slowly tasted her. Dio, she was intoxicating. A man could get used to this every morning—every day. Every night. I pushed my tongue into her mouth, only to rear back in a burst of pain.
She bit me.
That beautiful smile shone up at me. “What? Something the matter?”
I gripped her jaw, fingers digging into the hollows of her cheeks to force her head backward at an unnatural angle. She breathed through the pressure, continuing with that insulting smile.
“Do that again, and I’ll put you over my knee and spank that pretty little ass until it’s too sore to sit,” I warned, moving back for another taste.
“You wouldn’t!”
“Try me,” I dared.
My mouth crashed into her, stifling her outburst. She tasted of sin and triumph. I was hooked. My tongue slid between her lips, testing for a moment before plunging deep.
Her tongue swiped at mine—the only assault she dared.
Good, so good, vespina.
Penelope didn’t melt into me as I’d hoped. She remained firm and defiant. So I kissed her—hard. Fucking her mouth. Showing her the lengths I was capable of going.
When I finally pulled away, there was a moment where she shivered. Her unfocused gaze fluttered.
I bit back a groan. Penelope pulled herself together, gave me a tight look, and left without saying anything.
A hiss escaped my mouth as I sank back into my chair. That woman—that feisty little woman.
“Shepherd,” I clipped into the phone at my desk.
“Signore.”
“Tomorrow, hold my breakfast until Signora Mancini awakens for hers,” I instructed the butler.
“Very good, signore.” The intercom disconnected.
I didn’t want us missing meals together, and if my wife was an early riser, there was no reason to dine separately. I was going to wear my fiery hellcat of a bride down until she caved.
Early afternoon meant the neighborhood park was cleared of the crowds. I strolled down the path, taking random turns until I was sure that there was no tail. I ducked into an alley and rapped on the door. It swung open, the gamer dude giving me a clipped nod as I entered.
Stepping into the VR lounge, I sat on the stylized lime green ball that was supposed to be a seat. Minutes later, a suit walked through the doors.
“You look tired,” I drawled.
Mier gave me a dry look. “And you aren’t dead yet.”
I pulled my ankle over the opposite knee and leaned back. The ergonomics of this chair were wanting, but the material formed in an oddly satisfying way to my backside. “Now what would be the fun in dying on you? There’d be no one else to help you keep the streets clean.”
“You mobsters are a dime a dozen. I could negotiate with any number of the crime lords.” Mier sat down hard, scrubbing his hands over his face.
“Seriously, let me send you some of my nonna’s pastina. You could use an immune boost.”
“Fuck off, Mancini.”
Grumpier than usual today…something must have happened. “What’s wrong?”
The suit pinned me with a dry look, which I knew from past experiences meant he was about to drop a bomb. “There’s a new special agent in town. He’s been assigned to my division, and he’s on the warpath.”
I hummed. “Nothing new. We’ve seen eager Feds come and go over the years, haven’t we?”
“Not like this kid. He’s just shy of thirty and highly decorated. Served in the Marines for a short tour of active duty. Graduated top of his class and has made waves over in the Big Apple.”
“Then what the hell is he doing out here? Don’t his sort go to be groomed for top brass in D.C.?” I stretched my neck.
“He wanted to be assigned here.”
I sat up straighter. “Then there’s a reason.”
Mier clapped slowly. “You’re a smart one, cookie.”
“Ya know, if you’re going to be the harbinger of doom, you could at least set these meetings for places that serve alcohol,” I muttered.
“I don’t drink.”
Surprise flickered through me. After all this time working with him, I thought Mier was like every other suit, deep in the bottle and depressed as fuck. “You don’t say.”
“What do you have for me?” Mier coughed into the lapel of his suit. It was rough and barking. The Fed was sick as hell.
I swept my hand through the air. “None of the organizations will pull together to stop the influx of drugs into the city. The good news is that it’s coming from one main source.”
“The Toro Syndicate, damn roaches,” Mier rasped, and then began to cough violently into his elbow.
I winced and moved back. “Seriously, let me send soup to your office—anonymously, of course!”
The suit’s red-rimmed eyes pinned me with a dark look. “It’s just a cold.”
“And if you’re feeling unwell, criminals can slip past your guard and take advantage of you.” I slapped my thighs and stood. “Forgive me for not shaking your hand, officer.”
Mier gave me the bird. “You haven’t managed to pull one over on me yet, Mancini. Don’t get cocky. I can still knock you over with a flick of my wrist.”
I grinned. “Nah, you know we’re good for each other’s business.”
“Wait up, do you have anything more?” Mier raised his hand but doubled over in another coughing fit.
I shook my head. “No. It’s the same as it was at Christmastime. The Vlasovs will help us if there’s a direct mission on the streets against the drug runners. Flannigan won’t speak to us, but he’s managed so far to keep the rabble out of his turf. The other Chicago Famiglias would rather I die, and the smaller players are shaking in their boots.”
“So while they care about keeping drugs off the streets, they won’t unite to do so,” Mier said, voicing the disgust I felt.
“Exactly.”
“And your trip to Detroit? How was Caravello?”
Merda…. “Should have known you’d figure that out.”
The suit smirked, but it was pained. He opened his mouth to speak but ended up coughing instead.
“Seriously, man. Go. Rest.”
“I’m fine,” the Fed croaked.
I shook my head. “Caravello’s daughter skipped town. She’s holed up out west somewhere.”
“Will her father send resources to collect her?”
My phone buzzed. I pulled it from my pocket. A possessive flicker of satisfaction slithered through me. It was a notification for the bank attached to my charge card. But as I opened the app, the dark glee turned into confusion.
My wife spent a grand sum of forty-five dollars—at a Walmart.
“What’s got you seeing thunderstorms, mobster?” Mier broke through the perplexing situation.
I clicked off the phone, putting it away for later. “I don’t know what Caravello is doing. The girl supposedly has blackmail on him, and she’s united with the local sheriff.”
Mier wheezed. “A sheriff? Are you shitting me?”
I nodded, amused by his incredulity. “Yep. Big gold star and everything.”
“What the fuck did she think a sheriff could do against an organization like the Caravello Famiglia?” His outburst triggered another coughing fit.
Madonna! I was going to need to bathe in sanitizer after being confined in close quarters with this oozing mess. “Don’t know. Don’t care. I wish the girl well, and hope her father isn’t too hard on her when he does bring her back home.”
“You think he will?”
“She’s leverage.” I shrugged. “He won’t let that go easily.”
“And you’re extremely calm for having been jilted. You must have gotten something out of this to be willing to let the girl go?” The thing I admired most about this suit was the way he struck when he had a good hand to play.
“I might have,” I answered carefully.
“According to a Detroit informant, felicitations are in order.”
“They are.”
“I’ll send you a card. Shall I put Mrs. Mancini or use her first name?” Mier smirked.
I stepped close, nose to nose with the Fed. “My wife is off limits, Mier. Understood?”
He only smirked harder. “You like her.”
“Remember how I told you my sister was off limits? That same threat applies to Penelope. Or do you need a reminder of what I’m capable of?” I hissed. Fun and games with the law were over.
A couple of moments ticked by where we just stood there, a couple of enraged beasts staring off.
Until Mier broke out in a coughing fit.
I stumbled back in disgust, wiping spittle off my face.
“I’ll leave her alone,” Mier wheezed. “But the new guy? Agent Frankie Tribiano. That’s the guy you need to watch out for. Keep your business tight and above board, Mancini. This kid isn’t fucking around.”
“Soup. Rest. Go!” I ordered with a stern finger.
Mier batted me away, staggering through the door and coughing the entire time.
Gross… . Just fucking gross.
I stopped in the bathroom to scrub my hands in scalding water. I would have a dossier about Tribiano on my desk by nightfall, and I would probably want to call my business partner. If Baldwin thought my marrying the niece was the worst thing that could have happened, he was going to have a field day about the new Special Agent in the Organized Crime Division.
Once more, I checked my phone, but there were no new credit card charges. I left the bathroom, shaking my head. I resisted the urge to text the driver for five whole minutes. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I tapped out a short message. The guard driving my wife responded instantly. No, they’d only gone to Walmart and then straight home.
“What the hell is your game, little wasp?” I muttered, cutting back through the streets and disappearing into the suburbs of West Chicago.