Hatred flickers on his face. “So? I run a respectable business. Helping mobsters run surveillance isn’t on my list of services.”
I drum my fingers on the armrest. “Dominic, you make me sound like the devil.”
“That’s because you are.”
I remain calm. “I’ll pay you.”
“I don’t need your money.” He scowls.
“You know I can pay you more than any of your clients can.”
“I don’t give a shit what you can pay me. I would take their clean money over your dirty dollars any day.”
I ignore his jab. I’m starting to regret coming here. “My businesses are all legitimate. Would you like to see the paperwork that confirms it?”
“Yeah, yeah, and I’m Mother Teresa. I’m not even going to waste my breath Cipriani, I know how smart you are. I know you have all the right people on your team who can cover your tracks, rework things, and make people disappear who get in your way.”
“Do you think I’m a monster, Dominic?” I glare at him.
“Yes, I do!”
I narrow my eyes. “Don’t pretend your hands are clean, Dominic Cartieri. We’ve both done unspeakable acts, I just don’t sugarcoat it.”
“I built my empire on moral ethics. You built yours on blood.”
“Enough with the clichés, Dominic.” I rise to my feet. He mirrors my actions, placing his hands on the desk. I get another clear view of his six-foot-two frame, broad shoulders,and athletic physique that hugs his blazer and slim-fitted dark trousers just right.
“You always thought you were better than me, Dominic.”
His gray eyes flash. “I am better than you, Cipi.”
I take a deep breath and restrain myself from smacking him. “Don’t. Call. Me. That.”
“Why? Does it remind you of who you were before you sold your soul?” he taunts.
I clench my jaw, heat rising to my cheeks. “That name is only reserved for family and close friends who know loyalty and don’t burn bridges for a job.”
His lips part like he’s about to say something but I don’t give him a chance.
“You think you’re Mr. Integrity,” I hiss. “Let’s talk about your brother Enzo.”
His fingers twitch. “Don’t go there, Cipi.”
I lean over the desk to face him. “We should go there. At least I’m upfront about the blood I spill. You like to hide it. You could imagine my surprise when I found out that Enzo was involved with the Giordano crew eight years ago, stealing cars and running them through chop shops in the south end. And if I’m not mistaken he has dabbled in the drug trade.”
A flash of panic flickers across his face before it disappears behind the steel mask.
“You’re lying,” he growls.
“Nope. You must have been crazy to think your FBI badge would be enough to cover it up. You altered his file and destroyed police reports which allowed your brother to not be charged and he was able to start a new life. You, a respectable upstanding citizen who always does everything by the book, falsified evidence to protect your brother, a criminal. Imagine what your clients would think of that or your former employer?”
His jaw tightens and his eyes burn into me. “You have no proof.”
“Actually I do. See my tech guys were able to find the records that you deleted. Someone on your team was willing to give up the information for a hefty prize.” I flash him a grin. “Everyone has a price even if you don’t. I have all the evidence ready to go to show the world you’re not the amazing man you make yourself out to be.”
Defeat flashes across his face and he steps away from the desk. Walking over to the window, he places his hands against the glass, and looks out the Chicago skyline. He doesn’t deny it.
Guilt sweeps over me. I should feel victorious, but instead I feel like shit. I shouldn’t be angering the one person who can help me even if he is the most cocky asshole on Earth. Once upon a time we were on the same side back when neither one of us had obligations. Now we’re playing chess with each other’s sins.
