Boss did some preliminary research, pulling up pics and history of the man’s family. The wife was thirty-two and the little girl was ten. Cute family. Then he looked into the two killers after Mr. Mitchell. They represented two of the large companies he’d fucked over with his illegal dealings. This would require more than eliminating the muscle.
He was starting to think the payday for this one wasn’t high enough after all. He’d demand more before he put in the effort.
Boss grabbed his cell.
“Maurice, I want a workup on Tyson Black and Edward Seer. I need to know their patterns over the past two weeks, firepower, family, the usual.”
“Let me jot this down,” he said. “Oh, by the way, Widow Maker made a local call from the lobby of her condo late last night.”
“And?”
“Viko Fedorov.”
Boss frowned. “Any recording?”
“We didn’t have the lobby tapped. She always uses her secure cells.”
“She must know we’re tracking her. Why the fuck would she call him from a public place?”
“When I traced the call and saw the name, I thought you’d be interested.”
“Send the bios of the men to me when you have everything,” said Boss. “But Viko and Widow Maker are top priority. Get all hands on this.”
He was pissed off Maurice had waited this long to tell him about the call. And why the fuck would Graciella be involved with the Circle of Monsters? The call had been local, which meant Viko was in his city. Boss didn’t like to be in the dark about anything.
She must have gotten herself into trouble, or was she working for the notorious group of assassins? Either way, he planned to find out.
He wasn’t sure why he cared—that woman should have been wiped off the face of the earth once she started causing problems for him. Instead, she piqued his curiosity. He found himself drawn to her. Boss was used to getting what he wanted, and right now, he wanted the Widow Maker in his bed.
Boss slammed his fist down on the desk, his monitors rattling. He didn’t like how Graciella invaded his thoughts. She was a dangerous distraction, and he had to be focused or he’d make mistakes. He wasn’t following his own advice, and it had to stop. It was time to get El Diablo’s little sister off his mind.
He did a little digging, called in a few favors, then messaged Killian for a ride. It wasn’t Friday, but another woman was the perfect way to get Graciella off his mind. Maurice and his team would be all over this Viko Fedorov bullshit.
“Pick me up in an hour. Bring a new bitch. I feel like going out for dinner.” Boss hung up and hit the shower.
Before the hour, Killian rang the doorbell. Boss finished adjusting his tie as he made his way to the front entry.
“Ready?”
“I will be in a few minutes.”
Killian came in and sat on one of the armchairs, making himself at home. Although he was one of his best hitmen, he liked to use the Irish assassin as his driver most days. Trust was key in this business, and he’d taken Killian under his wing ages ago.
“You look like shit,” said Killian.
Boss ignored him, checking his collar in the hall mirror. “How are the kids?”
“Growing like fucking weeds,” said Killian. “I think we’re going to try for another.”
He scoffed. “June must have the patience of a saint to deal with you.”
“She does.” Killian got to his feet, brushing his unruly blond hair off his face. “What about you, Boss? What are you now? Fifty? Sixty?”
“Fuck off.”
“No, seriously, you going to live alone in this huge house forever?”
“That’s the plan,” said Boss. “I have enough trouble keeping up with you assholes and your family dramas.”
Killian laughed. “Well, you won’t want to marry the one waiting in the car, but she’ll stave off the loneliness for a night.”
“She cute?”
Killian shrugged. “Does it matter? She has a pussy and an ass. That’s all you’ve ever requested, no?”
Boss slipped his jacket on over his gun holster. “Okay. I’m ready.”
He secured the house and got in the back of the car. The woman waiting looked young, with dyed blonde hair and big fake tits. She smiled and reached for him.
“No touching,” he warned. “Let’s go, Killian. I’m starving.”
He ran both hands through his hair and leaned back in his soft leather seats. These gold-digging bitches grated on his nerves. Killian was right. This fast life was going to catch up with him soon. Maybe he’d start jerking off and stay away from loose women for a while.
They pulled up in front of the restaurant, one of the most exclusive downtown locations. Boss liked the best of everything.
“Want me to hang around?”
Boss always liked to be one step ahead. Tonight would be interesting. “Yeah. Don’t go too far. Keep your phone at the ready.”
He walked up the main staircase with his date for the night. They passed the line outside and headed right to the hostess. Boss didn’t do reservations, and he’d never had an issue.
Within seconds of being spotted by the staff, they escorted him to the exclusive part of the restaurant. He sat down across from the girl. Boss didn’t know her name, and he didn’t give a shit.
“Your driver said you’re a business owner,” said the girl.
He nodded as he flagged down the waitress for a glass of wine. One thing he wasn’t interested in was a conversation with his date. He should have skipped dinner and went straight to fucking.
As he zoned out, staring at the candle lights flickering on the tables, something caught his eye. A flash of bright red. He focused for a second and immediately sat up straight in his seat. It was Graciella Moreno. At the same restaurant as him?
She did a quick sideways glance in his direction as a man pulled out the chair for her. Her sly smile was proof she’d seen him first.
“Are you okay?” asked his date.
He wanted to tell her to fuck right off, his attention riveted on the beauty a few tables over. Instead, he pushed the breadbasket in her direction and told her to eat up. It was a while later when Graciella stood up, excusing herself from the two-person table.
Boss had been monitoring them the entire night. He kept track of everything. Who the fuck was her date? Was he a mark or was this personal? He kept imagining choking the life out him, then emptying a clip into him for good measure.
Widow Maker walked in his direction. Her red dress looked like velvet, trailing all the way to her ankles, the side slit reaching just below her left hip. Her lips matched the dress, her long black hair pinned to one side with a diamond clip. Boss swallowed hard.
“Imagine finding you here,” said Graciella, leaning over the table, a clutch purse in her hand. He had no doubt it carried a gun. The dress barely contained her tits as she faced him.
“Imagine,” he echoed.
Graciella glanced at his date, then back to him. “Nice. Fiancée?”
“No,” he said. “Just a friend.”
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Graciella asked.
Did she realize he didn’t know her name? “I wouldn’t want to take time away from your date.”