Chapter 3
Blake
“Everything okay here?”
I turn from the bar cart behind my desk to see Emmett standing in the doorway of my office. He fills damn near the entire frame with his size and looks like a dark cloud looming on the horizon.
How the hell he got someone like Riley—someone quiet and gentle and sweet—to go for him is beyond me.
Shit, maybe he could give me a pointer on how the fuck to get Tracy back.
No, that’s a terrible idea. Besides, I’m still pissed at him for igniting the fuse that has created a further divide between Tracy and me.
Pouring myself a large enough drink that it’s going to warrant taking an Uber home later, I return to my chair, not bothering to offer Emmett one as he takes a seat across from me at my desk.
“Judging by that pour, and the fact that it’s barely,” he looks at his watch, “ten a.m., I’m guessing everything is not okay.”
“No thanks to you.” I tip the glass in his direction before taking a long drink. The burn isn’t nearly enough to warm the frozen state of my heart.
“She was crying, you know. In her car down in the parking lot.”
She was? Fuck. I grip my glass tighter, my frozen, bitter heart suddenly heating with dread.
I caused those tears. But as much as I want to feel bad about it, a part of me is glad, because she’s been torturing my heart for five goddamn years.
“Whatever happened between you two to begin with?” he asks. “Clearly, this is about more than just threatening her to keep her at the brokerage.”
“I don’t even fucking know,” I tell him honestly. Sighing, I add, “Tracy and I were together for a little while when she first joined the brokerage. Then she just up and left without so much as a word. I still haven’t gotten a reason from her.”
I’ve never discussed what happened between Tracy and me all those years ago with anyone.
Aside from my family and a few others, no one knew about our relationship.
She wanted to keep it quiet until she made a path for herself, not wanting it to look like she was fucking her boss to get business.
Which was never the case to begin with. She worked her ass off to become successful, and I never favored her that way.
I never gave her clients just because I was sleeping with her.
She never would have forgiven me if I did.
I gave her clients because she was excellent at what she does, but she didn’t want anyone else thinking otherwise.
I’m not quite sure why now of all times, and with Emmett of all people, I feel the need to tell someone about Tracy and me, but it feels like a weight lifted off my chest finally telling someone else about us.
“You still love her,” he says, leaning back in his chair. He sits there casually, legs spread, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. But his eyes are diligent, missing nothing on my face.
“Yes,” I confess.
He runs a hand down his face, a bitter laugh leaving him. “I royally fucked things up for you, didn’t I?”
“You did.” I take another sip of my whiskey.
“Tracy has been cold toward me since she left all those years ago, but she’s been downright hostile since you told her about the shell company.
” Anger simmers beneath my skin, replacing the momentary openness I had been feeling with him.
“I mean, for fuck’s sake, Emmett. I would think you know better than anyone not to show your cards until the time is right. ”
This bastard ruined my plans to keep Tracy close and forced me into drastic measures that ultimately turned her completely against me.
Though I guess I shouldn’t blame him entirely.
I was the one who set out to blackmail her to begin with.
But still, it wasn’t supposed to come to a head like this.
If things had gone like I wanted them to, Tracy never would have known about the shell company to begin with.
We would have gotten back together, and I would have removed her from the company before she was even the wiser about it.
It was supposed to be a back-up plan, a contingency in case I couldn’t get her back, and it blew up in my fucking face thanks to Emmett.
“I’ve already apologized for that.” He shifts in his chair, running a hand through his beard. “Why don’t you come to Riley’s going away party on Friday? You and Tracy can have a few drinks, maybe talk it out. Or fuck it out. Whatever suits you.”
“She’s having a going away party?” Why did no one tell me about this?
“Yeah, Tracy’s throwing her a small get together. Which is probably why you didn’t get an invite,” he goads, smirking at me.
I ignore the smugness on his face. “Sure. Yeah, I’ll be there.” I tilt my glass at him again. “You want a drink?” His invite to Riley’s party has moved him up yet another rung on my shit list. At this rate, he’ll be in good standing in about another century.
“No.” He pointedly looks at his watch again. “I actually have work to do today.”
“Is that why you’re gracing me with a visit?”
“Yes. I’ll be out of town for a couple weeks, helping Riley settle into her new place in Tennessee. I don’t have any active clients right now, and I won’t be taking any for the foreseeable future. Jax is still tied up in New York and until he gets back, I don’t have the fucking bandwidth for it.”
“Noted. I’ll pass anyone I get onto the other agents.
” I may be angry with Emmett right now, but he’s one of the best realtors that’s ever worked for me.
Any really important clients that come in go to either him or Tracy.
And of course, any of my illegal deals that I’m funneling through the shell company go directly to him.
“What’s Jax doing in New York, anyway?” I ask.
I never did get the full story about everything they were involved in up there.
“You don’t want to know,” he says.
“Oh, I think he does,” a low voice says from the entry to my office.
Emmett and I both look toward the door to see a man leaning against the doorframe. Emmett immediately tenses, his entire demeanor shifting before my eyes.
The man strolls into my office, his black jeans and black t-shirt the embodiment of the aura he brings.
If I thought Emmett was like a dark cloud, this guy was the entire storm.
His neck, arms and hands are entirely tatted, the dark ink further darkening the atmosphere.
His intense gaze lands on me, and the corner of his mouth tips up.
“Blake Frenshaw.” He sits in the chair beside Emmett and cocks his head at me, as though studying me. There isn’t a single thing I trust about this guy. “Vince Voletti. Your new client, since Emmett is supposedly tied up for the foreseeable future.”
“The fuck you want, Vin?” Emmett grits out. The break in his composure surprises me.
Vin lifts a brow at him. “Now, is that any way to talk to the man responsible for your current happiness?”
Emmett immediately tenses even more. It makes me wonder what kind of history these two have, and what Vin meant by that statement.
“Listen, whatever you need, I’ll handle it,” Emmett says. “You don’t need to drag Blake into our shit.”
“Oh, but I do.” He looks at me again. “Like I was saying, Vin Voletti, your new client. Son of Giovanni Voletti, Emmett’s most prominent client in New York. Did he tell you about him?”
“No,” I say, not tracking any of this.
“Give me your phones. And your laptop.” Vin gestures to my computer. “Any other electronic devices in here on Wi-Fi?”
“What? Why?” I ask, but Emmett is already handing his phone over.
“Because what I’m about to share stays in this office.” Vin’s gaze hardens on me. “And if you so much as breathe a word of what I’m about to tell you, your body will be at the bottom of the Potomac by morning.”
“And do I have any say on if I want to hear this?” I grab my forgotten drink, trying to maintain my own composure in the face of this intimidating asshole.
“No. Because by bringing Emmett into your brokerage, you brought my entire family with him.” At my confused expression, he continues, “You really should have done a better job digging into Emmett before sending him that invitation to The Frenshaw Group.”
I cast a glare at Emmett. What the fuck is he getting me into?
Unplugging my laptop from the charger, I slide it and my phone across my desk.
Vin gathers all of our phones and my laptop, placing them in a large Faraday bag. Setting it back down at his feet, he digs into his back pocket and pulls out a folded photo, tossing it onto my desk.
“Who is this?” I ask, looking at the photo. It’s a younger man, probably in his mid to late thirties. Blonde hair, slim build.
“Isaac Turner, higher up with the ATF,” Vin replies.
“You’re expanding down here,” Emmett says, his voice hard. “That’s why Jax is currently selling off half of Gio’s portfolio, isn’t it?”
“Does someone care to explain what the actual fuck is going on here?” I ask, my patience wearing thin. I take a large drink. And another.
Vin crosses an ankle over his knee. “My father, Gio, runs the illegal gun market in New York. Emmett and Jax used to work for him as drivers. Running the guys around to drops and pickups, meetings, whatever they needed. When they turned eighteen, they both got their real estate licenses and instead started laundering my father’s money into real estate. ”
My gaze locks on Emmett. He laundered money for the goddamn mafia and didn’t think to let me in on it? He could bring a lot of heat down onto this brokerage, and his affiliation with them puts a target on me and my business.
“You didn’t think that was relevant info when I interviewed you?” I ask him.
He scoffs. “I didn’t know you. What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, by the way, my biggest client is also the head of an organized crime family and I’m laundering his dirty money for him’?”
Okay, he has a point. He would have essentially been admitting to a plethora of crimes, of which I could have easily turned him in for. But still, I don’t need this kind of shit tangled in with my business.
“No,” I tell him, “but you could have been the bigger man and turned down my invitation to join the brokerage, knowing full well the position you would have put me in.”
“You don’t exactly run the moral and ethical high ground yourself, Blake,” Emmett says coolly. “Are you forgetting about a certain elected official you recently bribed and made me handle the deal? Or how about—”
I lean back in my chair and cut him off. “I’d say there’s a bit of a difference between bribing politicians and working for the fucking mob.”
“Both are illegal as fuck,” Vin interjects, his voice carefully controlled. “As far as I’m concerned, both of you are neck deep in illegal shit by this point, which is precisely why both of you are going to get onboard with what I need, and you’ll get on board fucking quick.”
Emmett and I scowl at each other, and Vin sighs, leaning forward. “I’ll say this once, and one time only. You both work for me now, so learn to play nice with each other, or there’ll be consequences.”
I tear my gaze from Emmett to ask, “And what exactly do you want us to do?”
Vin smirks. “Isaac Turner’s wife is pregnant with their third kid, and they could really use a bigger house.”
It’s my turn to scoff. “You really think bribing him with a house will make him turn a blind eye to the illegal gun ring you’re about to set up?”
“No,” Vin says. “But the promise of a new house and his lovely little wifey making it full-term will.”
I’m about to tell him how sick he is for threatening the life of a pregnant woman, when he goes on, “Find him a house and my family will fund it.” He tips his lips up at me.
“And yes, I know about your shell company. Run the deal through it. I also need your brother to build us a warehouse. There’s some land southwest of the metro area.
I’ll send over the details, but I need you to get the owners to sell.
I don’t give a fuck what it costs. Get it done, and get it done in the next few weeks.
I want your brother out there breaking ground within the month. ”
“And if I don’t?” This guy is out of his mind if he thinks he can just show up here and demand that I get involved with the mafia.
Vin’s lips twist into a sadistic smile. “Then that pretty little blonde down there,” he throws a thumb over his shoulder. “Tracy Smith? She won’t be so pretty by the time I’m done with her.”
“You’re a goddamn bastard,” Emmett snaps at the same time I tell Vin, “If you even think of hurting her, I’ll fucking kill you.”
Vin shrugs. “Well, I’m already thinking about it, Blake. How I could so easily get her on her knees. How my belt would look wrapped around her neck as I strangle her with my dick down her throat—”
I shoot up from my desk, readying to lunge at him as Emmett puts up his hand, motioning for me to sit down.
I hesitate only for a second before returning to my chair.
Emmett knows this guy better than I do, so I’ll trust him to lead on this one.
Not to mention I’m probably the only person in this room who isn’t armed.
“This really how you want to do things, Vin?” Emmett asks.
Vin shrugs again, unphased. “It’s up to Blake how this ends.”
Emmett looks at me, and I give him a small nod. “I’ll go check out that land and start house hunting for Isaac.”
“Smart man.” Vin grabs the bag with our phones in it and dumps everything back out onto my desk. “I’ll be in touch.” He tosses a burner phone at me, and with that, he leaves my office with a skip to his step, like threatening innocent women is just everyday business for him.
When he’s down the hall and out of sight, I ask Emmett, “Would he really hurt Tracy?”
He contemplates for a second, then lets out a long breath.
“I’d like to say no, but Vin… he’s different.
He doesn’t have any empathy. He doesn’t show remorse.
It’s like he’s a machine, and he’ll take out anyone who stands in the way of his family’s business.
” He grabs his phone from my desk, pocketing it.
“He’d take you or I out without a second thought, but Tracy?
Your guess is as good as mine.” He rubs at his temple, like dealing with Vin is a nuisance he can’t escape. “You sure you want to do this?”
“What would you be willing to do to keep Riley safe?” I ask him.
“Anything,” he responds without hesitation.
“Then it looks like I’m on the Voletti’s payroll now.”
I’d do anything in my power to keep Tracy safe. I lost her once, and it won’t ever happen again.