Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
MASSIO
My brother Miko has provided me with a file on my new role as a bodyguard for little Theodora Jennings. A spoiled rich kid whose father was once the target of my envy, but as I stare back at the man before me, I’m really starting to wonder what the hell I was thinking.
Ford Jennings is a potbellied, gray-haired old prick who probably has problems locating his micro prick.
He tilts his head from side to side, surveying me with narrowed eyes.
He won’t find anything remotely like the boy he may have been aware of nineteen years ago.
The one his wife divorced to be with him.
My physique has doubled, and I have an array of tattoos from my neck to my thighs. Ink coats my hands with a collection of skulls, crosses, and weapons. I’m proud of my body; I might be aging, but I’m in damn good shape.
I glance around his mediocre office. Dark-pine wood desk, a signature bookcase with books nobody reads, given the dust I can see from here, and a fake painting hangs that no doubt houses the family safe behind it. All very predictable.
“Your name is vaguely familiar.” He strokes the gray bristles on his chin.
I lift a shoulder. “Massio is popular in the Mafia world. Marino even more so.” I’m thankful Sal gave me the honor of taking on his last name.
Not only was it recognition for how far I’d immersed myself in the Mafia lifestyle and dedicated my life to La Familia, but it also gave me the perfect opportunity to wipe away any mistakes of my past and start a new life under the protection and guidance of La Familia.
I was happy to be a foot soldier while dating Veronica. I wanted a normal life more, and Sal said I always had one foot out of the door, something that changed the second she left.
The moment she became another man’s wife, I developed an anger that the Mafia world welcomed, and I was no longer happy being a foot soldier, an errand boy so to speak.
I wanted more. I wanted to go as far as I could, create a name for myself in the underworld, and becoming the Mafia don’s bodyguard and right-hand man was what my fury helped achieve.
And now, finally, I’ll have the vengeance that’s been brewing for a lifetime.
“You come highly recommended.” He continues. “My daughter, she’s …” He pauses, thinking, and if I hadn’t researched the man and his legal capabilities, I’d have thought he was nothing short of being slow.
A brat? I want to say, but opt for the politer option, given I barely know the man and his relationship with his little princess. Hell, I don’t want to get fired before I’ve even started.
“Trying?”
He throws his head back on a laugh. His stomach wobbles and his chin shakes. “Yes. Yes. She’s very trying, my daughter. Very trying, indeed.”
He hasn’t said her name yet. Is the dimwit even aware of it? My lip twitches at the thought.
“Yes. She can be”—he winces—“a little difficult at times.” His eyes meet mine. “I need you to rein her in, but keep her safe.” He points toward me, with jest dancing in his eyes.
It grabs my attention because although he’s trying to make light of a situation, this is a bodyguard job, and this is the first time he’s actually mentioned her safety.
Alert, I lean forward in my chair and give him my full attention. “Is she in danger? Is there something I should be aware of?” I might not like the girl, but I sure as hell don’t want her death on my conscience. Not until I’ve had my fun with her, at least.
Maybe I’m about to get the action I’ve been craving for months.
He waves a hand at me. “Oh, nothing to worry about. We’ve had a couple of incidents, but nothing recent to concern yourself too much with.”
Nothing to concern myself too much with? I scan the buffoon’s face.
He’s serious.
“Then why the bodyguard? What incidents?” I snipe out.
He grimaces and tilts his head from side to side while twisting his lips. “She gets herself into sticky situations. You know how teenage girls are. A little drama here and there,” he sputters on a laugh.
I stare back at him, emotionless.
Hell no, I don’t know shit about teenage girls.
The only personal experience I’ve had with a teenager was when I was one myself, and the teenage girl I knew kicked me in the balls.
After declaring our love for one another, she divorced me and married an old bastard so she could carry the latest handbag around while becoming a socialite.
The very same old bastard who is still alive and kicking even though he looks two seconds away from suffering a coronary.
“Not really,” I deadpan. “Enlighten me.”
He chuckles again, and I don’t know whether he realizes it or not, but I’m not a person who cares for amusement, especially when something’s not remotely funny.
“Well …” He rolls his head. “She claims she was attacked at a party.” My eyebrows shoot up.
Claims? Is the little minx an attention seeker like her mother too?
“Then she says she was followed.” He blows out a deep breath and smacks his desk.
“Look, Massio, I’m going to level with you, we had …
an incident when she was younger.” His eyes lock on mine.
What incident? I stare at him, waiting for him to elaborate.
“Much younger, and I think she romanticizes a lot of the current incidents.” He puts hand quotes on the latter, and I realize whatever it was, it clearly isn’t important, not when her father brushes it off like it’s nothing.
Gracie was a similar age to Theodora when she came into Vinny’s care, but she was innocent and na?ve. This girl sounds anything but. A liar and fantasist. She needs to be tamed, alright, and this man needs some hard truths.
“You mean she lies,” I state.
He winces. “She’s maybe a little paranoid, is all.”
Hmm, the old fucker doesn’t like to think his little princess is a lying, deceiving little bitch like her mother.
“And you know teenage girls. They love the attention.” He chuckles, and his stomach jiggles.
When the hell is he going to realize I know nothing about teenage girls. Nor do I want to. “So, what am I doing here, exactly?” I raise an eyebrow.
“I have to go away on business tomorrow, and well …” He shuffles some papers from one spot to another before placing them back in the original spot.
He’s lying or he’s hiding something; either way, there’s no way in hell he’s going on a business trip.
He’s probably fucking someone, multiple someones.
I’ve come across dozens of men like him, and they have paid-for mistresses in multiple countries.
Happiness spreads through me like a disease. Jesus, this job just gets better and better. He’s leaving her in my care. What an idiot.
“And where’s her mother?”
He rears back, then his eyebrows pinch together, and he appears deep in thought. “Miami, I think.”
Fucking Miami? Typical. I refrain from rolling my eyes.
“Possibly the Dominican. She likes to travel.”
I’ll bet she does. She likes to travel on men’s cocks is what she likes.
“She won’t be home for a while. I don’t think.” He stares off into space before his gaze lands back on me. “Until we return for the Garratt event, of course. She’ll be back for that. She likes to dress up, and it is the event of the year in our society.”
Like a whore, I want to add. Instead, my mind whirls on his words and my eyebrows pull together. The man is making no sense. Does he really think I know about these high society things? “Wait, the Garratt event?”
“Yes, it’s an annual event, but this year it’s a little more special than usual.” Something flashes in his eyes, but before I have a chance to figure out what it is, it’s gone.
“I need you to watch over Theodora until we return in roughly six weeks.” Jesus, they’re leaving her for six weeks. Roughly.
I lean forward and steeple my hands on his desk, and he shrinks back in his chair. “Let me get this straight. You’re asking me to babysit your daughter?”
“No. No. I want you to keep her secure. While I’m away.” He darts his eyes away.
Hmm, the fucker probably has an entire family set up somewhere else and doesn’t want his whore of a wife discovering it, let alone his little princess.
This job just got a lot more interesting.
“If I do this, I want your full support on every action I take,” I say, with power behind my words.
He nods like an idiot. “Of course.” The poor bastard probably can’t wait to get away from her. He’d agree to anything right now.
“I want a substantial investment for the security of this mansion because, frankly, it’s nonexistent. How the hell you all haven’t been kidnapped in your sleep before now is beyond me.”
“I’m friends with the mayor. We play golf together on Sundays.” He smiles broadly.
I blink at the overweight bastard. Is he for real? How the hell does he think that makes them any less of a target. “And?” I ask, not bothering to disguise the callousness of my tone.
Fidgeting in his chair, his face becoming redder. “And his wife’s a lovely woman.” He nods. “She goes to the country club every weekend while we play. Very supportive. Simply lovely. Nobody would want to hurt them.” He taps his finger on the table. “And we’re friends with them.”
I want to roll my eyes at his naivety. I feel like I’ve stepped into some sort of twilight zone, swapping one hellhole for another. Though, at least this one may hold a challenge to it.
But Jesus, what an utter douchebag.
I give him a firm smile. “I’m sure. When would you like me to start?”
“Tonight? You could have dinner with us. Theodora’s entire wing is empty if you need a place to stay?” The little brat gets a wing to herself, and he just gave me the green light into it. This is perfect; I couldn’t have planned it better myself, but I mask my excitement.
“I’ll be having visitors over. Vetted, obviously,” I say, leaving no room for argument.
“Of course.” He waves his hand around. Jesus, does the old bastard really not care about her at all? I’d probably feel sorry for her if she were anyone else, but I don’t give a shit. His uncaring attitude just gives me the green light to become her worst nightmare.
I push out of my chair, and he follows suit, then I hold my hand out toward him. “Six-thirty tonight.”
Relief floods his features, and a jovial smile encompasses his face, then he shakes my hand with vigor. “Marvelous.” The old bastard can’t wait to leave, and who can blame him? His daughter is a brat, and his wife is a cheating bitch.
I head toward the door, eager to pull the tie that feels like it’s suffocating me from around my neck. Then I turn my head over my shoulder. “Oh, and Ford?”
“Yes?”
“I’ll be moving in tonight.” I hold his stare, reaffirming my demand, and he nods frantically, so eager to please me.
I have the fuckers right where I want them. Now all I need to do is get their little princess where I want her—beneath me.