Twice this week I’d convinced her to come to me. Twice she didn’t hesitate and fuck me if I couldn’t get enough of her.
Seems like I never could.
From that first night I spotted her out on the snowy street, something told me Maggie Ramirez would get to me. Like she was now. I was different with her. She did something I couldn’t explain and wasn’t sure I liked.
Couldn’t say I hated it much either.
Fuck me, what the hell was wrong with me?
She paused, holding her door open, turning when my mother called after her. Maggie pushed a wide, forced smile over her mouth. It had been half a year since that snowy Christmas night. I’d had her a hundred different times, knew every inch of that beautiful body, been around her enough to tell when she was tired, when she was pissed off, when she was weary. I could make out when she was pretending, trying to fake nice. It had become part of her job at the restaurant. Requirements she set for herself for asshole customers— faking a sweet response to idiotic demands or a grin to rude comments and right then, she was giving my ma a sweet, but fake ass smile.
The half-drunk mug got abandoned as I put it on the window ledge, moving closer to watch. My mother walked toward Maggie, holding a brown shopping bag in her hand. Had to be something for the kid. Ma was always buying the boy something.
We all were, no matter how many times Maggie asked us not to. Couldn’t help it. The boy, just like his mama, had wormed himself into our lives. There wasn’t much any of us wouldn’t do for him.
Maggie had to know that by now.
Which was why the forced smile and head shake she gave my mother bothered me.
Seemed to bother my ma as well.
It was the first time I’d ever seen Maggie refuse anything from the woman.
First time, in fact, I’d seen anyone do that.
But she did.
Leaving my mother frowning and a little hurt, if the look on her face was anything to go by.
But Angelique Carelli was a proud woman. She wouldn’t beg. She’d plan, and with one stiff nod, she urged Maggie into her car and watched the woman drive away.
We both stared until she made a left two blocks away, then I caught my mother’s gaze. I shot back the nod she gave me, catching her meaning the second she sent it to me.
What the hell was that?
I didn’t know, but I had my guesses.
The vibration of my cell against my desk pulled my attention from my mother and I moved from the window to grab it. The work I was in—the gray area kind of business as my old man called it—didn’t keep normal business hours. And there was never bullshit disputes that ended with me letting workers go or docking people’s pay. I should be so lucky.
This kind of work required more…finesse and a fuck-ton more irritation.
“Fucking Mickey Finney,” I said to no one, reading the message the dock manager sent, followed in rapid succession by four more.
There was no firing anyone when the competition decided to use my shipment like his own personal fucking store.
And that was all Finney was--competition.
He wanted to be more. He thought he could be more than a nuisance by taking what he wanted from me.
I’d have to teach him a lesson.
“Dino,” I called to the cracked-opened door, throwing my cell down as I slumped into my chair.
“Boss?” my man said, peeling into my office to fill most of the doorframe.
Dino had worked for me since right after I won my Golden Gloves bout and set up my business. My father wanted to go legit, and Dino’s old man had been Pop’s best associate for twenty years. Dino knew the business, same as me. He knew what needed to be done without me explaining much.
“Finney,” I said, shooting the man a look. “Marco says he lifted a shipment from the East docks.”
“I’ll handle it personally.”
“There’s nothing to handle.” I leaned forward, spotting another message from Marco. This one, a lot of nonsense about worrying over shipments that hadn’t arrived. “Send some boys to watch the morning deliveries. I want you to head out to White Planes in case Finney gets any ideas about fattening his fucking pockets again.”
“I’ll take Will. He’s been asking for a bigger job. This could be it.”
I nodded but hesitated before dismissing him. “That cousin of yours is young. You can take him but bring Stew and Davey too. Keep it low-key. I wanna see what Finney’s play is.”
“No problem, boss.” Dino pulled out his cell, probably shooting off texts to the rest of the crew, but paused, his features going hard and his thumb stilling as he moved his gaze across the screen.
“Problem?”
There was always a fucking problem.
Always some damn drama.
This was why I’d moved my office out of my parents’ building. They weren’t far from me, but still far enough that my business and their safety were at a comfortable distance.
“The bakery owner…”
“Still missing?”
Dino nodded, shrugging like he had no real explanations for me.
The woman was a headache I didn’t need. She’d spent the first two months she showed up in town working my nerves, refusing to pay the protection fees, ignoring requests from me and my boys for a sit down to let her know how things were done in Cuoricino. Short of busting in there myself with my whole crew, which wouldn’t make any of us look good, I’d been close to running out of ideas.
Then, four months back, the woman disappeared. The bakery was still up and running. It was doing well from the looks of it, but the chick running the place, like her boss, wouldn’t play ball.
“I have two guys on the place every day getting fat and slurping down so much espresso they’ve gotten the shakes. But it’s no good. No news, nothing.” Dino scratched his nose, something I noticed he did when he was gearing up to tell me shit I didn’t want to hear.
“Say what you want,” I told him, crossing my arms, knowing this shit would probably get on my nerves just like the redhead. Everything about her did.
“I think maybe we should just…drop it.”
“No.” I wouldn’t let him finish, waving a hand when he opened his mouth again. “It’s been four months, and no one’s seen her. But Dario did some digging.” At Dino’s look, I shook my head, a little disappointed that the man still didn’t think my brother had straightened himself out. “What? You think he hasn’t shaken off Riker’s?”
“Not my job to tell you what I think, boss.”
“That look on your face says enough.” Dino didn’t answer, shifted his expression, but sat when I nodded to the chair in front of my desk, turning down the espresso when I waved to the machine.
“Five years on the inside does something to you,” I explained, my fingers digging into my forehead. “But it’s not all bad with Dario.”
“How do you mean?” Dino leaned forward, elbows to his knees.
“He’s got an instinct now he didn’t have before. A sense when shit is sideways and the redhead? Shit with her is fucking horizontal.”
He nodded, sitting back, his face bunching up as he watched me. “He hear something?”
“He put two and two together.” I slipped a glance to the door, nodding, and Dino reached behind him, pushing it closed before he turned his attention back at me.