Chapter 19
Elise
T he next day, I walk down the stairs and round the end of the banister on my way to the kitchen, only to run straight into a hard, muscular chest. Frankie’s arms come up to steady me, but he quickly lowers them and takes a step back. We stand there and stare at each other for a minute. It’s somewhat awkward, like we both know the rules have changed but we aren’t sure what to do about it.
As much as I would like to test out those new boundaries, my mind is more focused on my investigation. I’ve been doing what I can to look for a link between either the Irish and the trafficking ring or the Irish and the Russians, but I can’t find anything. It seems like Enzo’s right. They’re too small of an organization to be able to pull off something of this magnitude. I need to talk to Lydia and find out where she got her information and if she’s found anything else.
Frankie opens his mouth to say something, and I jump in, interrupting him before he has a chance to start. I assume he’s going to say something suggestive regarding the new rules—or lack thereof—and I want to make sure that the Family is looking into the Irish. They have different sources than me, so we need to be working together. Especially since mine aren’t panning out.
“Learn anything new about that trafficking issue?” I ask.
His face screws up in surprise, followed quickly by suspicion and anger.
I don’t give him a chance to answer before I ask a follow-up question. “How do you know it’s the Russians?”
“Why do you care? How about you do your job, and I’ll do mine.”
Little does he know, this is my job. But since I can’t tell him that, I ignore him and keep pushing. “I’m just thinking that there have to be other groups out there that it could be. What makes you so sure you’re looking in the right place?”
“Who did you have in mind?”
I can tell he’s asking sarcastically, but he hasn’t left yet, so I’m hoping it means he’s at least curious. Or desperate enough to see if I accidentally throw out a good idea. “How would I know? Like you said, it’s not my job. Isn’t there an Irish mafia? What about them?”
Immediately, he rolls his eyes and turns to leave. Apparently the idea of it being the Irish really is laughable. But then where did Lydia get it? I really need a chance to talk to her. Hopefully, the seed is planted in Frankie’s mind now, and he’s smart enough to not tell Enzo that I said something. I’m sure he doesn’t want me talking business with his men. I’m just his whore, after all. This whole thing would be so much easier if they knew the truth about me. Not all of them, but the three that matter.
With Frankie gone, I continue on my original path to the kitchen. Enzo stopped having breakfast delivered to my room, which means I have to go find it myself now. But I prefer it this way. At least I can tell myself that no one is coming into my room while I’m sleeping. Whether or not that’s true, I have no idea.
The kitchen is blessedly empty, so I make myself a quick breakfast of eggs, toast, and coffee and eat it in peace at the island. Now that the thought has occurred to me, I want to find Enzo and talk to him about bringing the other three fully up to speed. I put my dishes in the state-of-the-art dishwasher and walk down the hall to Enzo’s office. He’s not in there, but I hear music coming from the gym.
The universe must be on my side, because he’s in there by himself. I wait until he’s done with the set of reps he’s in the middle of and then I turn off the sound system. He glares at me while wiping sweat off of his forehead.
“What do you want?”
Oh good, he’s in a bad mood, and I’m about to make it worse. That always works out well for me. My pussy clenches against my will, reminding me that it actually does tend to work out well for me, but I ignore her. What does she know?
“Have you looked into the tip from Lydia?”
“Have you considered minding your own business?”
“This is my business. I’m working on it on my end, but I need to know you’re taking it seriously.”
He goes back to his workout, so I change tactics.
“I want you to tell your friends the truth.”
“What truth?” he asks with a grunt, not pausing his current set.
“Mine.”
He doesn’t respond at first, and his expression is unreadable.
“I just think this whole thing would be easier if I could be a real part of the team. We could combine our resources and work more efficiently.” Surely an appeal to the business side of him will work?
“No.”
Apparently not.
“Why?” He makes me want to stomp my feet on the ground and throw a tantrum like a fucking toddler. He’s infuriating.
“Because I said so. Turn the music back on when you leave.” With that non-explanation, he moves on to his next exercise and turns his back on me.
I’m tempted to stay and argue, but I know a lost cause when I see it. I storm out of the gym and back to my room, intentionally disobeying him and leaving the music off. Too late, I realize that could give him a reason to come after me and punish me. Or maybe my subconscious knew that and planned the whole thing. Either way, I’m not going back down. I’ll just have to deal with whatever the consequences of my actions are.
Enzo
In what universe does she think I’d be able to admit that I let a federal agent move into my house? That would backfire faster than my grandpa’s old Studebaker, which I inherited from my father. I have yet to risk turning it on. Much like Elise, it’s beautiful but has the potential to blow everything around it to smithereens.
If I told Frankie, Sal, and Joey about Elise, how long would it be before word got out to the rest of the Family? Not that they’d intentionally tell anyone, but they could be overheard talking about it or accidentally slip up. That’s all it would take for the older generation—the ones still loyal to my dead father—to plot to take me out and replace me with one of their own. They’d immediately undo all of the progress I’ve made to modernize us and separate the Family from the rest of the criminals in this city.
That’s the last thing I need.
I think back to the night I killed my father, but I picture myself on the lethal end of the needle and shudder. No, thank you. Being at the head of a criminal organization puts a fairly large target on my head as it is. I don’t need to make it even bigger.
The tip about the Irish still seems completely unfounded to me, but I have put out a few feelers to see if there’s a modicum of truth to it. I just haven’t brought anyone into the loop, and I don’t intend to unless something comes of it.