12. Salvatore
SALVATORE
The stock market is the least of my worries today.
I head to the cafeteria, grabbing a coffee to-go. People pass by, employees trying to get my attention.
“Later,” I grumble, heading to the elevators for some peace and quiet.
I was striding into the restroom earlier, coming to collect the folder Robert had left for me. He was looking through old, useless information he kept safe in a folder, back when we were in the Crows together.
After looking through and not finding anything useful, he asked me to take a look, see if he missed anything that could be of use to us.
Not twenty minutes after Robert left the folder, I see Ophelia staring at a fucking polaroid, basically confirming everything.
That attitude can get her far, but does she really have what it takes to attack my informant all the way in Queens. Something isn’t quite adding up, especially when I head into my office to see Robert looking at me gravely.
“What?”
“Lenny.”
“A few more words are needed.”
Rob circles his face in demonstration. “Doesn’t my face say enough. He’s dead.”
“What do you mean dead? He was in the process of getting discharged yesterday.”
“According to the hospital, he died from his injuries.”
“Bullshit.”
“I don’t think—”
“I’m calling it bullshit. He was killed. A man who was in the process of being discharged, speaking full sentences, so much that he had the nerve to demand an extra five thousand bucks from me, does not die from his injuries. Someone must have tampered with his medication.”
I grind my jaw, a dreadful thought weighing on me. I walk over to the windows, peering out, turning my back on Rob to prevent him from reading my face.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s never—”
“Ophelia,” I say, my jaw threatening to break as I tighten it all the way. “She found the folder you left in the restroom.”
“What the fuck was she doing in the male restroom?”
“She suspects something.”
“You think she killed Lenny?”
“It’s unlikely,” I say. “But we can’t rule it out.”
“You’re right,” says Robert, pulling up a seat at my desk. “Fire her.”
“Since when do I take orders from my vice?”
“Never,” says Rob. “But I’m sure you can take some advice from your friend who is simply looking out for you.” Rob looks at me. “If Ophelia is collaborating with a former Crow member—”
“Ophelia might have some attitude, but she’s too innocent.”
“The beautiful ones always are.”
“The woman is curious by nature. My tattoo clearly gave her a lead.”
“She recognized the tattoo from somewhere.”
“Most likely,” I say, raking a hand through my hair, taking a seat behind my desk. “I’m not firing my executive assistant.”
“Teach her a lesson.”
“Trust me, vecio, I have already taught her one. Besides,” I say, the leather chair squeaking as I lean back into it. “Firing her will cause some upset. Miss Bennett loves her job. The last thing we need is her holding a grudge against me.”
Not entirely true. The way Ophelia stropped out of the restrooms earlier told me that she’s already holding a grudge, but I don’t mind that.
She can rub her pussy all she wants, give herself the satisfaction I refused to give her earlier, but masturbation only takes you so far.
She needs me, and she’ll have to get in line if she wants my cock again.
The way she screams when I bring her to the edge tells me she won’t be holding a grudge against me for very long…
Lessons need to be learned, and fast, because I’m not prepared to fire my little pocket rocket.
“Is there something blooming between you two?”
“Nothing is blooming,” I say, shutting Rob down immediately.
“That salesman died because of a conspiracy,” points out Rob.
“Ophelia, on the other hand, was caught sticking her nose into Crow business, and yet she’s still walking around this building, free as a sailor.
I don’t care how fucking tight her pussy is.
That woman is a walking liability. Sort her out. ”
“Everything is under control.”
“Except it isn’t,” says Robert, rising from the desk. “Someone killed Lenny, and my money is on your assistant.”