Desidario “Dario” Diaz 4.
Fixing my pants, I sit back in my chair and grab a stack of papers to review.
Organized crime is surprisingly organized…
and involves a lot of paperwork. Of course, we try to limit the paper trail for any of our illegal endeavors, but so much of what we do is tied up in legitimate businesses that it’s impossible to eliminate paperwork completely.
Digital trails are just as damning and sometimes much harder to erase.
I read over the latest report my men have gathered on the Kosher Nostra.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend until they stab me in the back.
I was willing to work with the Jewish mafia in North Carolina because Hiram Goldman was a thorn in my fucking side and I do not condone trafficking.
That boundary is why we don’t have many allies.
Having the Kosher Nostra on our side could be valuable at a later date and I am nothing if not prepared.
The clack of high heels on the floors of the compound heralds the arrival of one of my favorite pains-in-the-ass.
I sit back in my chair, fold my hands over my abs, and wait with a grin.
My twin Desirada flows into the room like a designer-labeled warrior, her nose wrinkling, stride purposeful.
She glares at me and moves around my desk, throwing open windows, and theatrically gasping in the fresh air.
“I just heard one of the maids extolling the many virtues…of your cock. I do not enjoy speaking to you with the smell of cheap sex lingering in the air.”
I force my lips to remain neutral when I really want to grin.
“As you’ve mentioned.” Dropping into one of the seats in front of my desk, she perches on the edge.
Her expression transforms from irritation to distress in an instant.
I’m on high alert, sitting upright as I wait impatiently for her to explain her change of mood.
“Dario?”
“Yes?” Her tone indicates what this is about. Same as it has been every other day. I release a sigh, relaxing fractionally in my chair.
“Have you found her yet?”
“No.”
“It’s been two weeks.”
“I was there when our tutor explained how calendars work, Desi.” Her lips twitch, but she remains concerned.
“Is there any progress? I can’t help but think what she’s—”
“I know.” I pick up the reports once more and toss them in her direction.
She grabs them eagerly, rifling through them as I explain.
“Teuling attempted a trade with the Kosher Nostra. They didn’t agree.
He threatened to sell his captive if they didn’t hand over the Goldman girl.
Instead, they’ve blown up his life. Literally.
” I lean forward in my seat, a tendril of excitement slithering down my spine.
“They are systematically destroying his real estate holdings and the livelihoods of his business associates.”
Desi’s eyes flare with respect. “They’re cinching the net around him, blocking any form of assistance, and giving him less and less space to work with.” She chuckles, sitting back in her chair and crossing one long leg over the other. “It’s genius.”
“Our men have tracked him to two different locations, and he’s vacated before we’ve arrived.
No traces of blood were found at either scene, so either he’s got a cleanup crew, or he’s smart enough not to hurt her.
” Her eyes dim. My sister, my twin…she is the strongest woman I know, but still the softer of the two of us. As it should be, I suppose.
“Please, Dario. Please find her.” She sucks in a shuddering breath. “It could have been me. I could have—”
“I would NEVER let that happen.” I slam my hand on the desk, familiar rage swelling within me. “I slit our father’s throat to ensure your safety.”
“I know.” Her chin dips, her eyes downcast. “And I am grateful—”
“Do not be grateful. You should have never been in that position in the first place. I am your brother, your twin—”
“You took over even though you never wanted to, you did it for me.”
I step around my desk and lift her chin with my thumb underneath it. “I would do anything for you, Desirada. Your happiness means everything to me.”
A hint of a smile tips her lips. “Yours matters too.” I release her chin and move back around my desk, not wanting to talk about it.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m quite happy. Didn’t you hear…uh…that maid earlier?”
Her expression blanks, all warmth gone. “You don’t know her name, do you?”
“No. Is that necessary? I don’t handle payroll.”
Desi stands gracefully, glaring down at me as I grin unrepentantly. “No, just dickroll.” She knocks on the wooden surface, ignoring my laughter. “Find her, Dario.”
“I’m working on it, gordita (little fat one).
” She screeches at my childhood nickname for her and continues stomping out of my office.
I hear her frustrated muttering as she moves down the hall.
I pick up the reports once more and reread them.
Teuling seems to be one step ahead of us and I intend to even the playing field.