Chapter 33
LEO
I’ve been called many things over the years.
Calculated, charming, polished, impossible to rattle.
But sitting here in Dante’s office with a frozen bag of expired peas pressed to my shoulder, scanning a line-up of surveillance photos, I don’t identify with any of those things.
I feel useless.
Basically, any word in the book that can describe a moron that let an airbag beat his ass, fell in love with a girl who can’t decide if she wants to fuck him or fight him, and masterminded a plan that’s unraveling at the seams.
How did things get so messed up? And why the hell didn’t I see it coming?
“They covered up the license plate. These guys are pros,” I grunt, throwing the photos down on the table.
“Yeah,” Michael says, more focused on whatever is flashing across his phone screen.
“Am I boring you?” I ask, spitting my words. Apparently, it’s not enough to make the asshole look up from his phone, so instead I reach for the closest object—a rusty stapler—and wind it up with my good arm.
But before I can throw it, Dante steps into my line of sight. “Should I come back when you two have kissed and made up?”
I narrow my eyes before lowering my hand and tucking the ammunition away for later. “Fuck off, Dante.”
“He’s in a bad mood because his girlfriend is having a playdate with another man,” Michael smirks with his eyes still glued to the phone screen.
Dante has the gall to laugh, which pokes the metaphorical rage monster inside me.
“He’s hardly a man,” I mumble, tossing the bag of peas on top of the useless images. “If she’s not back soon, I’m going to look for her.”
“Who would’ve thought the great Leo DeLuca could get attached so easily?” Dante muses, plopping down on a worn-out desk chair that leans back with his body weight.
I roll my eyes, turning to Michael. “Any updates? These images are useless without a license plate.”
“I’m working on it,” Michael snaps, looking more annoyed than I’d like. Why is he in such a mood? He’s not the one who got his shit rocked last night. I’m being a fucking delight compared to this jerk.
I raise both hands in defeat and decide to busy myself by calling my assistant.
“Hello, crippled,” Georgia greets, no doubt with a sinister smile marking her lips.
“Not. Funny,” I grit out. “Did you cancel all of my appointments?”
“All, but one,” she sighs. I clench my phone tighter. “Adrian is being a dick. Says you need to discuss the vote today since it’s happening soon.”
“Fuck,” I groan, hanging my head.
“What do you want me to tell him?”
I scrub the overgrown hair on my chin, considering my options. I am technically just sitting here, twiddling my thumbs and waiting for Michael to find something on my stalkers so we can plan our next move.
Then again, if Adrian sees me like this, he’ll probably poke and prod until I tell him why I look like I just stepped out of a UFC ring.
“Fine,” I say, sliding forward in my chair and reaching for the questionable painkillers that Dante gave me. “Give me an hour,” I reply, hanging up before she can answer.
With Adrian, it’s better to face him head-on. That fucker is persistent.
I stand up, feeling every bone in my body protest at the sharp movement.
Michael and Dante look at me expectantly, and just as I’m about to announce my departure, Mia crashes through the door with a look of determination.
When she raises her head to see who’s in the room, she freezes when she sees me. “You’re still here.”
“Stop acting so excited, Tesoro,” I answer dryly, moving toward her without a second thought. Thank God she doesn’t pull away. I think it’d kill me at this point.
After a step and a half, my face scrunches up in pain. Mia jumps into action and steps in front of me, running her hands up and down my arms, searching for any new injuries. “Why aren’t you home in bed? Are you crazy?”
“I told you I wasn’t going home without you. I meant it.”
She wets her bottom lip, making them shiny and supple. I ignore the burning sensation in my shoulder and reach up to cup her cheek before leaning in and placing a firm kiss on her mouth. She reacts instantly, molding her lips to mine.
I groan into the feeling.
“How’d things go with Keith?” I ask, pulling away but keeping my hand on her cheek. I can feel Dante’s eyes shooting laser beams into the back of my head, but I ignore it.
“Good,” she says, her eyes going blank in that knowing way they always do when she’s attempting to lie. “He’s looking into Marco Bellini for me.”
I know she’s holding back, but I ignore it for now. “I already told you everything I know. It’s going to be hard to pin a murder on a dead man.”
“I know,” Mia says, biting her bottom lip in contemplation. And then she pulls away from me, making a beeline for her brother. “I need a whiteboard or something to write on and some push pins. I’m making an evidence board.”
“Anything else, your majesty?”
“No, asshole,” she quips, flipping him off and going to work collecting the surveillance photos on the table. “Care if I use these?”
I shake my head, taking a step forward. “Do you need anything else? I told Georgia I’d come into the office for a little bit but say the word and I’ll cancel.”
She turns toward me, her face scrunched up with concern. “You can’t work in your condition. Isn’t part of your job looking pretty? I hate to break it to you, but—”
“Don’t finish that sentence, Tesoro. Just because there are people here doesn’t mean I won’t bend you over that desk and teach you some manners.”
Dante mutters something under his breath, mixed with a healthy amount of curse words, before making a graceful exit.
“Fine,” she breathes, collecting more things from the desk in front of her. And then she goes still. “Who are you meeting?”
“Another councilman. Why?” I ask, inching close enough to put my hands on her hips and spin her to face me. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
She opens her mouth just to snap it closed. I fight the urge to grip her chin harder to make her talk.
“Adrian Moretti,” Mia replies, but that’s all she says.
“What about him?” I ask, scrunching my brows.
She quickly averts her gaze and wiggles against my hold, but I keep her pinned in place. “Tell me now, Emilia,” I command, lowering my voice.
“He cornered me in his office yesterday when I came to see you. And—” She pauses, clearly debating whether or not to tell me the next part.
I squeeze her hips tighter. “He wanted my advice on some upcoming legislation from a cop’s perspective.
There was other stuff too, but the whole interaction just felt weird. ”
“And then,” she begins, pausing again with that uneasy look in her eye.
“Then what?” I snap, fighting back the anger boiling inside me.
“I was leaving his office and ran into someone that fit the description Alice gave us. The one that got away,” she says, her throat bobbing up and down. “His arm was in a sling.”
A ringing grates in my ears.
“He went into Adrian’s office.”
I pull my hands away from Mia’s hips, the sudden movement making her jump. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“Leo, I could be wrong. It’s just a susp—"
“You’re sure it was his office?”
Her throat constricts as she swallows hard and then nods slowly.
I step away, ripping my hands through my hair. I feel sick.
Adrian taught me everything I knew.
Sure, his connection with Enzo made him a bad guy, but he showed me how to leverage those kinds of relationships to get what you want.
He taught me that a corrupt system can be used for good.
Something dark snaps inside me and my eyes are pulled to hers. All I can picture is Adrian cornering her in his office for his own fucked up agenda.
Without another thought, I ignore the rage growing inside me and grab her waist, yanking her flush against my body. And then I crush her lips to mine.
Mia gasps, but she accepts the kiss anyway, making me press against her harder.
When I pull back, I reach out and grab her chin. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Leo, if he really is up to something, you can’t tip him off before I’ve had a chance to look into it. We could lose all our leverage.”
“She’s right,” Michael says. I forgot he was still in the room.
I grate my teeth together. “How the hell am I supposed to look that bastard in the face? I want to skin him alive for even attempting to be alone with her,” I seethe, turning to Michael.
And then Mia surprises me, grabbing my face and pulling it back to her. She looks calm, even if the darkness under her eyes tells a different story.
“You’re going to do what you do best,” she says confidently. “You’re going to put that mask back on that you wear so well, look him in the eye, and lie better than he does.”
I’ve been in this office countless times over the years and nothing has changed.
It still smells like expensive cologne and printer paper.
Clean.
Controlled.
An environment that puts anyone at ease long enough to lower their guard.
I used to admire that type of attention to detail, and now I have to keep digging my fingernails into the soft cushion of my chair to keep from launching at Adrian.
“Rough night?” he asks, offering me a small glance before turning his attention back to the document perched in his hands.
“You should see the other guy,” I joke, trying to remember what I’d say if I didn’t want to wrap my hands around his throat.
“I know I said you were good at taking hits,” he says, setting his paper down and leaning back in his chair so he can fully drink me in. “But I didn’t mean literally. Enzo doesn’t like it when his toys get dirty.”
I swallow the growl sitting at the base of my throat and keep my face relaxed. “It adds character,” I shrug, adjusting my collar. “Let’s get down to business, Adrian. You didn’t call me here to compliment my good looks.”
“Right,” he agrees, his finger tracing the rim of his coffee cup, “but we do have an important vote coming up, and I’d prefer you not to look like you just crawled out of a back alley. This new legislation needs to pass, or Enzo won’t be as generous when your reelection happens next year.”
I grip my chair even tighter. I want to scream in his face that I don’t give two shits about reelection. That Enzo Caruso won’t be alive to call the shots anymore.
But I don’t.
I shut my mouth and do my fucking job.
“I’ll lay low until the vote,” I say, clearing my throat. “By next week I’ll be good as new.”
“Good,” Adrian replies, his gaze sharpening. “You never let me down.”
I hold his stare, keeping a straight face.
“Is that all?” I ask, casting a side glance toward the clock on the wall. The sooner I get out of here, the sooner I can get back to Mia.
Adrian tilts his head to the side, his gaze sweeping over me, hovering on the bruises and cuts on my face.
“I met Emilia yesterday afternoon. I’d like to apologize for saying she was distracting. I can see why you’re so enthralled with her.”
Irritation wraps around the back of my neck and spills over onto the rest of my body. I pray the bruises on my face hide the red, hot anger sweeping across my face.
“She’s not your concern.”
Like the pro he is, he keeps his face completely neutral. But that command doesn’t seem to reach his eyes.
“Everything connected to you is my concern,” he says evenly.
I lift my chin. “Since when?”
“Since I vouched for you with Enzo. But that was back when you were more predictable.”
“I’m sorry I’ve become so unpredictable lately,” I say, keeping my words loose and effortless. “Should I consult you the next time I find a new girl to fuck?”
Adrian’s smile deepens, the corners of his mouth dripping with controlled malice. “That’s cute, Leo,” he begins, easily catching me in a lie. “I’m not trying to tell you who you can and cannot see. I’m just trying to understand what you’re willing to risk.”
My chest tightens, and the air in the room thickens.
“I don’t risk what I can’t control,” I say, keeping my head held high. “You taught me that.”
He hums softly, making the hairs on the back of my neck prickle to life.
When he doesn’t respond right away, I push to my feet, ignoring the pain flaring at my side. “If this meeting is over—”
“Sit.”
I go still.
It’s the first time he’s ever commanded me to do something. He’s revealing his true colors, and I’m finally able to see through the veil.
I lower myself back into the chair, keeping my eyes locked with his. I could easily walk out of this office and tell him to fuck off, but Mia was right—we need to make him think he has the upper hand.
“Good,” Adrian says, lowering his voice to a normal volume. “Now we can speak freely.”
Blood pounds inside my eardrums. “Then talk.”
He narrows his gaze, smile still full of a sinister energy.
“I’m only going to say this once, so listen close,” he begins, taking a deep breath.
“People who start pulling at the wrong threads tend to find themselves in situations they can’t control.
And we both know how much you love to lose control. ”
Usually, I find his riddles charming, but today, it feels like a warning dressed up like advice. Advice that I don’t need.
My jaw clicks from clenching it too tight. I take a deep breath and say, “And what would you know about that?”
“I know from experience. It’s the only reason I’m still sitting where I am. And you’re where you are.”
“I get it, Adrian,” I say, clicking my tongue. “This is your way of telling me to stay in my lane. Message received.”
He shakes his head before taking a slow sip from his coffee cup, forcing me to wait until he’s done. “You’re underestimating how quickly things can spiral. One wrong move and…” He trails off, not bothering to finish.
My fingers curl into a fist on my lap. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t make wrong moves.”
“Well, that’s not exactly true, now is it,” he says, his eyes glittering with a hidden meaning.
Does he know about last night?
He can’t.
Right?
I push to my feet again, tired of his lackluster responses. “We’re done here.”
Adrian doesn’t stop me this time. He just watches like he always does.
“I was being sincere when I said I like Emilia,” he says, making me stop just short of the door. “It would be a shame if anything happened to her. She would’ve made a good addition to Enzo’s payroll.”
Silence fills the room as I grip the door handle. Every muscle in my back shifts painfully as I attempt to keep myself turned away from him.
“Noted,” I mutter, any semblance of control completely gone.
My mind can barely keep up with the rest of my body, as I push myself out the door and through the maze of offices. Once I hit the street, my phone is out and dialing Mia’s burner before I hit the first stair.
It rings.
Once.
Twice.
Each time she doesn’t answer, my stomach churns.
And then when I get her voicemail, I hang up and call again.
Nothing.
Panic sweats through my suit, but I don’t stop calling.
She needs to be okay.
Adrian’s threats can’t be real.
I need to get to her now.