6. Luciano #2
“I see why you like her,” he says. “She’s sassy as hell. Reminds me of Paige. Fucking brat.”
I’d never say anything to Alessandro in front of our men, but I’ve had a suspicion for a while that my boss has a thing for Declan Gilroy’s sister, Paige.
Alessandro has known her for a long time and is close friends with Declan.
But she’s Irish. Which wouldn’t matter if she were a normal person, but she’s not.
She’s the little sister of several members of the Irish mafia top seven.
It would create tension, and I’m sure Alessandro knows that.
“Call Cassian Black and have him run the plates on her car,” I tell Angelo. “I want as much information on Fallon as possible.” Then I lift my chin at our other guard. “Go make sure she doesn’t try to run.”
“Yes, boss,” they both answer then walk away to do their tasks while I pull a lighter from my pocket and light my cigar. What I really need right now is a good drink. A strong one.
“What are your plans with her?” Alessandro asks as he brings his own cigar to his lips. “You going to make her pay for destroying your Range Rover?”
I should. If anyone else vandalized a piece of my property, they wouldn’t make it to see another sunrise. But Fallon didn’t do it purposely. Well, she did, but she didn’t know she was damaging the wrong car. And her fucker of an ex deserved what she was trying to do.
“What kind of man cheats on a girl like her?” I ask, more rhetorically than anything.
Alessandro stares at me, long and hard, his eyes more assessing than I’d like.
He’s trying to read me, and the problem is he’s too fucking good at it.
He knows me better than anyone in this world, and right now, I don’t know what to think about Fallon.
The last thing I need is him trying to analyze me when I still need to do that myself.
“A stupid one. Especially a wild one like her. He’s lucky she didn’t cut his balls off.” Alessandro smirks. “She’s got a lot of fire in her. I suggest you be careful.”
Glaring at my best friend, I take a long drag, letting the smoke calm my nerves. “What are you trying to say?”
He shakes his head as the tow truck drives up with its lights flashing. “I’m saying, she seems like she’s going to keep you on your toes, is all.”
When he finishes speaking, the door to our SUV slams shut. We both turn to look as Fallon stomps toward us with Angelo hot on her heels.
“You’re in the Italian mafia?” she practically shouts, her arms waving wildly. “The police dispatcher told me they would not be sending out any cops to save me!”
When she’s within arm’s reach, she shoves my phone into my chest. “And your girlfriend or wife, or whoever the hell Lacey is, called three times.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle, and I grab my phone and check to see whether Lacey sent me a message. If she’s called me more than once, something is wrong.
“Tell them not to take my car,” Fallon demands, her hands on her hips. “I can’t afford a tow. I’ll push it into a parking lot and deal with it tomorrow.”
I hand my phone to Alessandro. “Call Lacey and make sure she’s okay while I deal with this.”
My boss and best friend chuckles as he walks away to make the call without question.
“Tell them to stop,” Fallon says, pointing toward the tow truck driver who has already started loading her piece of shit sedan onto the platform.
“I’m not telling them anything, princess. Your car needs to be fixed before you can drive it safely. They are taking it to our mechanic, so it’s not going to cost you anything.”
Fallon pauses to look at me, the wild tendrils that have fallen from her pineapple bun framing her round face perfectly. Fuck, she’s cute. And those eyes are full of mischief that makes my palms tingle.
“You can’t just steal my car and do whatever you want with it. Even if you are in the mafia,” she huffs like she can’t believe who we actually are.
Taking a step closer to her, I watch closely to see if she flinches. To know whether she’s scared of men or simply just hates them, as she’s muttered several times since the moment I stepped into her apartment. I’m pleased when she doesn’t move away or shrink when I get within her personal space.
I breathe deeply, inhaling her sugary vanilla scent. I bet she tastes just as fucking delicious.
“Princess, I can do whatever I want, and no one is going to stop me. Now, where are you planning to stay tonight?”
Because I have a feeling that suggesting she stay with me wouldn’t go over well.
And even though it’s not totally out of the question for me to force her to come home with me, I’m not going to do that.
I put the fear of God into most people, but I don’t make it a habit of scaring women. Even ones as spicy as Fallon.
“Lacey is fine. She was calling because the news claimed there was a shooting in Seattle involving a syndicate member, and she was worried about you. I confirmed it wasn’t syndicate-related, but a gang-related shooting,” Alessandro says as he returns.
The muscles in the back of my neck ease slightly with that. I would never forgive myself if something happened to Lacey and I wasn’t there to answer her call. Fuck. Will I ever stop worrying about her even though she’s married and has her husband Kian to look out for her safety and well-being?