Chapter 12 – Alejandro
Chapter
Twelve
ALEJANDRO
Picking up my cell, I see Anton DeLuca’s name flashing on the screen.
He and his team are still looking for Lucia’s ex-boyfriend, Blake Fielding.
He’s been on the missing list since he assaulted Alana almost four weeks ago, and I am completely stumped as to how some punk from Philly could evade some of my best soldiers.
I could get Jax onto the case, but we’re both tied up dealing with the Ortegas, among other things.
There is too much shit going on right now, and all I really want to do is fuck my wife and be happy.
“You’d better have something for me,” I hiss as I press the phone to my ear. Alana turns in her sleep and drapes an arm over my stomach. Damn. I’d hoped not to wake her.
“Who is it?” she mumbles sleepily. Fuck, she’s adorable, eyes half-open, curls tumbling over the pillow.
“Just work, princesa,” I say softly as I cover the mouthpiece. “Go back to sleep.” She makes a little noise that fills me with love. It also reminds me why this call is important — that asshole laid his filthy hands on my wife, and I need to end him.
“We’ve found him, Boss,” Anton says, sounding triumphant.
“About fucking time,” I reply as I slip out of bed and pull on my sweatpants.
I wouldn’t normally bother, but with Lucia in the house these days, a few things have had to change.
I walk out of the bedroom and close the door behind me, waiting until I am out of Alana’s earshot to speak again.
“Now, bring the motherfucker here to me so I can deal with him.”
“That’s going to be pretty difficult, Boss. He’s already dead. He’s just been chiseled out of a cement block and is on his way to the morgue as we speak.”
“What?” I snap as I walk down the stairs and head to my office. I feel like punching something.
“He’s dead. That’s the reason we haven’t been able to find him. He was busy forming part of the foundations of a new apartment building in Philadelphia.”
I step into my office, closing the door behind me, and sit at my desk. “What the fuck? How long has he been there? And how the fuck did you find him?”
“The cement was poured two days after Blake was in LA, so he must have gone straight back to Philadelphia . He obviously upset someone else, too, because he was supposed to be buried down there forever. It would have been the fucking perfect crime. You know we’ve used the same method, and it’s a solid choice when you want a problem to disappear.
Except this time, there was some screw-up with the way the foundation was laying, so they dug part of it out to reset it.
Found a little more than they bargained for.
We’ve had feelers out all over Philly looking for this prick, so as soon as they identified it was him, someone let us know. ”
“And it’s definitely him?”
“Yep. Had his ID on him, plus I got a contact at the PD there to send me a photo. I mean, he’d recently been covered in cement, but you could see it was him. They’ll confirm with dental later, but I have no doubts.”
I’ve given my men a hard time for not finding Blake Fielding. I think I may even have threatened to castrate them if they didn’t find him soon. Now I know it wasn’t their fault, but I’m in no mood to apologize. I never am.
“Fuck! Any idea who wanted him dead?”
“Other than you, boss? No. It seems he didn’t have many friends, but he didn’t have any real enemies either. Not that we’ve been made aware of, at least none that would have gone to these lengths.”
“What’s the name of the construction company?”
“Lambert and Hall. They’re a local Philadelphia firm. Completely legit. We’ve spoken to the foreman and we’re meeting the CEO later, but there seems to be no connection to Fielding and the company. They’re freaking out about it.”
“That can’t be pure coincidence. Someone must have had access to that site when the concrete was being poured. Someone knew about this.”
“I know. It doesn’t make any sense right now, boss, but we’ll get some answers”
I frown as I hold the phone to my ear with one hand and fire up my laptop with other. “At least that cabrón is dead, anyway. I just wish I’d been able to get my hands on the fucker before.”
“Yeah,” Anton agrees, and leaves it at that. He knows death by cement would seem merciful in comparison to what I’d have done to him for touching Alana, and for the way he treated Lucia, too.
Fuck. Lucia. She knew he was an asshole, but he’s still the father of her kid. I shake my head. That’s a problem for tomorrow.
“As soon as you’ve found those answers, get yourselves back to LA as quickly as possible. We have plenty of trouble to deal with here that I could use you and your team’s help with.”
“Will do, Boss. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
“Good. And nice work, Anton.” It’s as close to an apology as I’ll get, and he knows it.
“Thanks, Boss.”
Two hours later, I am frowning at my laptop screen when Alana walks into my office carrying a tray.
The smell of coffee and freshly baked croissants fills the room, and my stomach growls in appreciation.
It’s only seven, and I already feel like I’ve done a full day’s work.
Still, if anything’s going to give me a boost, it’s this.
Breakfast, hand-delivered by the most beautiful woman in the world.
She’s dressed in one of my t-shirts, and from the outline of her hard nipples through the fabric, not much else.
“Buenos días, princesa,” I smile at her.
Despite spending these last two hours on the phone and computer, giving myself a headache trying to juggle business and deal with the Ortega family, being around her always makes me feel lighter.
I know that I’ve been neglecting her these past few weeks, that I spend far more time working than at home.
I miss being around her, and my heart soars at the sight of her this morning.
Other wives might be resentful, or sulk.
But Alana? She’s always thinking of others, always looking to help.
I love her so much it still blows my mind.
“You were up super early this morning. I thought you might like some breakfast?” she says as she puts the tray on my desk.
“Smells delicious. Gracias,” I reply as I push back my chair and stare at her while she pours two cups of hot coffee.
“Cream?” she asks, seemingly innocent as she holds up the small white jug.
“Really?” I grin at her. She knows exactly what she’s doing, the minx.
“What?”
“Come here.” I hold out my hand, and she puts the jug back on the tray and walks around the desk to me.
As soon as she is close enough, I pull her onto my lap.
She wraps her arms around my neck, and I run my nose along her collarbone and up her throat.
Even the smell of her skin makes my cock twitch to life.
“Why do you always smell so fucking incredible?”
“I smell of sex, and you,” she groans as she tilts her head back for me, allowing me easier access to kiss her neck.
“Like I said, incredible.”
She laughs softly. “I need a shower. And I didn’t mean to distract you from your work. I know you’re busy.”
“You didn’t, huh?”
“No,” she smiles sweetly. “Of course not.”
“But you do realize how dangerous it is to come into my office half-naked and offer me some cream, Alana?” I growl.
She gasps softly and then starts to giggle. “I didn’t mean that. I meant for your coffee.”
“I know exactly what you meant, my sex-crazed chica,” I say as I trail kisses along her throat.
I slide my hand up the outside of her thigh and squeeze her ass.
For the first time ever, I am relieved she’s wearing panties, because if she hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from lifting her onto my desk and fucking her.
“I’m expecting a call soon and I need to take it, so do you think you can sit and eat some breakfast with me without driving me to distraction?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, smiling mischievously. “But I’ll try my very best to be a good girl.” Yeah. Right. That helped.
She doesn’t budge, just stays on my lap as she leans forward and pulls our coffees closer to us. I shut my eyes and groan as I realize that I can’t bear to ask her to move.
“Would you like some jelly on your croissant?” she asks.
“Please.” I lick my lips as she wriggles forward again, takes a croissant, and splits it open.
My cock twitches and throbs every time she moves. Who am I kidding? There is no way she is leaving this office without my cum dripping out of her. She knows it, I know. The damn croissant probably knows it.
“Are you done?” I ask with an arch of one eyebrow as she scoots around on my lap, doing everything so damn slowly. It’s like getting the world’s most domestic lap dance.
“Almost,” she giggles.
“Do you have to move your ass that much just to spread jelly?” I groan.
“Yeah. You have to work the jelly in. So that all of the pastry is coated in its sweet, sticky goodness. You know.”
“Jesus, princesa,” I growl. I don’t know if she is doing this on purpose, or if I am just so fucking turned on that everything she says and does looks like it belongs in a porn film. Fuck, it could be both.
“Done,” she says as she turns to face me and sucks her finger clean with a wet pop. I moan audibly, thankful my office is soundproof. I can’t take any more.
“What?” she asks, all wide eyed, as though she can’t feel my raging boner pressing into her ass.
“Take off the panties. Take out my cock and get yourself onto it. Now,” I order.
Her eyes darken with desire. “I thought we were just having breakfast?” she whispers. “I thought you had an important call?”
Fuck! She really doesn’t have a clue what she does to me.
“I said now, Alana!”