Little Devil:
Mr. Princi, I write to inform you that your attempt to cancel our scheduled appointment is denied. I will see you at 10a.m. I’ve emailed you the contract.
Little Devil:
Before you interrogate me, Sophia gave me your email address.
Little Devil:
I also suggest you don’t try to get my sexy bodyguard to do your bidding. It’s beneath you. And we both know you have my number.
Irritation and something with a lot more fizz than fury bubble to the surface. When Avery delivered his findings on the surveillance I had him do to triple-check Marco’s deal with AJ Gigioliotti wasn’t going to be a death knell for my best friend, I got the assurance I needed that Marco and AJ’s business deal was legit. What I didn’t count on was learning the part Chiara has been chosen to play in this supposed truce between the two Mafia families. Does she know what’s expected of her? Or has she been kept in the dark with no say in the matter?
Regardless, she’s on her way over to my office on a Sunday so I can help her with the legalities around her sponsorship and work visa.If AJ’s heated reaction is anything to go by, I’m certain her overbearing family had no inkling about any of these plans.
Indignation on her behalf plays tug-of-war with my stubbornness. Yes, I saw the transcript of a meeting between her uncle Gino Gigioliotti and Domenic Rizzo, with Arty providing legal counsel. Yes, that transcript may have detailed a deal that will most certainly derail every plan that Chiara has carefullylaid out to make the move to New York and follow her dreams. Yes, it’s a plan that will strip this young woman of her autonomy to make one of life’s biggest decisions. But it’s not information I need for my case. Therefore, it’s not my problem. None of my business.
And yet my subconscious whispers,But what if someone was trying to do that to your sister?
Dammit! I pinch the bridge of my nose and exhale deeply. An idea sparks. Despite the evident disapproval of her surprise job reveal, Marco said Chiara’s close with her cousin. Surely AJ would put an end to this madness if he knew about it. I make a snap decision I hope I won’t regret.
The intercom buzzes to tell me someone would like to access the elevator to our floor. I walk to the intercom mounted near my door and press the button to receive the call.
“Hello. Is that you, Avery?”
“Mr. Princi. How rude to assume I need a man to do my bidding. Please, would you be so kind as to let me up for our scheduled appointment.”
“Access denied,” I rumble even as I press the button that will, in fact, give them access to this floor.
She scoffs, adding, “Raf. How does one say,I’m with the Mob?”
I hear Avery clear his throat in the background like he’s trying to stifle a laugh.
“I believe you just said it,” I grit out, because if only she knew the so-called Mob she thinks will protect her doesn’t give a fuck about her. “But there’s no need for threats, Ms. Gigioliotti. You’re free to come on up. Just key in the floor.”
“If that is your attempt at a joke, I sincerely hope you’re a better lawyer.”
I regret leaving her that double espresso. It seems it’s given her sharp tongue extra bite.
“Oh, and Mr. Princi? I don’t make threats. I make promises.”
I sigh heavily and bow my head in exasperation. She doesn’t back down from a fight. Except when I found her last night, when it looked like it had all but left her, and I wonder if maybe it wasn’t just the alcohol but something more that left her in a heap on the floor.
I shake my head to rid myself of the nagging thoughts. At the rate I find myself doing this lately, I’m going to need a chiropractor on staff.
I return to my desk and stack a few more files on the ones already there, then scatter a few papers about to really cement my argument when I break the news to Chiara that I cannot take on her case or any more work, for that matter. Those walls she accused me of having need to be high, bullet-proof, and one hundred percent impenetrable. Especially to ward off the devil herself.
“Mr. Princi, permission to enter?” comes Avery’s deep voice from the door. He is well-trained, unlike his charge who is already striding through the door, instantly sucking up more oxygen than someone of her stature should.
“My appointment is for 10 a.m., so Mr. Princi should be awaiting my arrival. Therefore, we’re on my time, and that’s all the permission I need.”
“Ms. Gigioliotti, delightful to see you again,” I can’t help but snip as I take in her tiny skirt, with a fitted, knit button-down sweater and those god-forsaken thigh-high boots she should be banned from wearing—not because they look bad, but because they increase the likelihood of injury to both her and me by theway my blood heats and rushes to my dick all at once whenever I see her in them. I use my self-control to squash their effect on me and get ready to play the part of the professional asshole.
“Avery has the good sense to understand that there is a plethora of sensitive information in this office, and seeking permission is not entirely necessary but certainly appreciated. And courteous.”
“Are you accusing me of not being courteous?” she demands, eyebrow arched and a knowing smirk tugging at the side of her mouth.
“Not your strongest trait, but I’ll let it slide.”
