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When I find the event in question, I can’t help but snort at the irony of a family of sex traffickers attending an auction and lunch fundraiser in support of a domestic abuse helpline.
Hypocritical bastards. They really think the world is so blind that all they have to do is donate a tiny fraction of their immense wealth to charity and that will mask the harm and pain they cause. Or are they really so deluded that their consciences are eased by merely attending some fancy charity event? Jumping off the bed, I stalk over to the motel room mini fridge and pull out a carton of chocolate milk. Whatever the reason, Joey Moretti just gave me the perfect opportunity, and I have three full days to prepare before I finally put my plan into motion.
Chapter
Ten
ROMEO
Slipping my fingers beneath the collar of my white dress shirt, I tug at the fabric. I fucking hate these black-tie affairs. I’ve never understood why we’re expected to dress to fit in at these things. We have one objective, and that’s to keep Joey Moretti safe.
I flick the stud of my tongue piercing against the back of my top teeth, causing Ace to grimace. “You’re gonna chip a tooth one day doing that.”
I wrap an arm around his neck, but he shrugs me off. “You’re in such a bad mood today.”
He twists his neck, as uncomfortable in a bow tie as I am, even though he looks like he was born to wear a tux. The tattoos creeping over his neck and hands starkly contrast the crisp white cotton shirt, creating the perfect paradox. A gentleman and a killer. Just the way I like him.
He runs a hand over his thick beard, and I have an urge to follow the path of his fingers with my tongue. “Stop fucking looking at me like that, pup,” he mutters.
I bite back a laugh and head up the driveway to the Moretti mansion. The door opens before I reach it, and Max DiMarco scowls at me. I lick my lips if only to stop myself from rolling my eyes. “Is Mrs. DiMarco ready, Boss?”
He shakes his head. “Not for you.”
My brows pinch in a frown. What the fuck is going on here? Max thinks I’m an asshole after a misunderstanding we had many years ago, but he’s never indicated that he doesn’t trust me to protect his wife.
“I’ll be taking my wife somewhere else today,” he adds by way of explanation.
“So we’re not going to the charity thing?” I barely manage to mask the annoyance in my tone. I dressed up in this fucking tux for nothing.
“You are, but not with Joey,” Max replies right as Lorenzo comes walking out the door with Mia.
The oldest Moretti brother narrows his eyes at me, a frown furrowing his dark brow. His face softens when he turns to his wife and gives her his full attention. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you, tesoro? I can push my meeting back.”
She places her hand on his cheek and laughs softly. “I’ll be fine, my love. Romeo and Ace will be with me, and it’s a charity dinner for some of the richest people in the tristate area. There’ll be more armed guards there than at the White House.”
Lorenzo lets out a heavy sigh. It’s no secret that he’s possessive as fuck when it comes to his wife. It’s also no secret that she’s a successful businesswoman in her own right and refuses to be kept on a leash. Mia has her own security detail, and I glance around, wondering why they can’t strap on their own penguin suits and give us the afternoon off.
Ace steps up beside me. “Change of plans?”
Lorenzo clears his throat. “Max and Joey have somewhere they need to be. My wife will be attending the event today in my sister’s place.” He kisses Mia’s knuckles before walking down the steps toward us. “As this was last minute, her bodyguards are otherwise engaged. I’m trusting both of you with her safety. You understand me?”
“Of course, Boss,” Ace agrees. We’ve been the personal protection for every Moretti at one time or another. It’s not unusual for us to be called on to switch duties at short notice, and Mia is a hell of a lot less trouble than Joey is. She tends to do what we ask of her without question, so today should be a walk in the fucking park.
Chapter
Eleven
KERES
“Hey, you can’t just leave that here,” a guy in a cheap suit yells as I jump out of the catering van parked outside the kitchen entrance of the Regency Hotel.
I sashay over to him and offer him my sweetest smile. “Just doing what I was told to do, handsome. The van is refrigerated and apparently they don’t have enough room inside to store the fancy macarons.” I put on a posh accent for the last two words and pull a disgusted face, earning a smirk from him. “Rich people, huh?”
He rolls his eyes and mutters, “Pretentious assholes.”
“Tell me about it. But now I gotta go inside there and smile while I serve them food and drinks for the next five hours. All for less than what they spend on their dinner every night. So wish me luck.”
“Rather you than me, babe.”
