And yet it’s the things that were out of my reach that beckoned to me the most. Call it the insatiability of human nature. But most people always want what they can’t have. It makes it all the more desirable, having to fight to claim something, wanting something that’s bad for you.
It’s like poison in a cheesecake. I fucking love cheesecakes. I’d gobble that shit up before realizing that it would spell my doom.
Liliana’s like that sort of cheesecake to me.
And when I wake up the next morning after she sang me to sleep, I feel my doom impending.
It’s becoming pretty clear to me that this entire situation is a whirlpool that keeps sucking in me no matter how hard I try.
My eyes open and annoyance curls within me. Not relief that I just had the best sleep I’ve had in years. But annoyance because she was responsible for it. Her and her voice and just generally her presence.
I feel like she played me like a fiddle. Bewitched me with her voice and I was dumb enough to fall for it.
As I pull on a t-shirt and pants, I know that’s not exactly rational. Gratitude is another emotion that hits me because I really did need that. And now that I’ve had a taste, I want more. I want her in my bed and I want her to stay there until I wake up in the morning.
Disappointment at the fact that she left leaves my jaw clenching.
This attraction is starting to become a goddamn headache. A knock sounds at my bedroom door and I drag my hand down my face before sitting up.
It’s Raul, one of my enforcers and direct subordinate. He pokes his head in, his brown hair falling across his face in the process. I keep telling him to cut that shit. Hair long enough to be tied into a ponytail should do a terrible job of making him look masculine. But Raul makes it work though.
“Boss, the men are waiting in the office,” he informs me.
Right. We were meant to have a meeting.
I suck in a breath, trying to concentrate on the things that should matter more to me. Violence, enforcing the rules of our empire. I have a job to do and I can’t allow myself to be distracted by dark haired sirens.
An hour later, I’m seated behind a desk while three of my men stand across from me discussing shipment routes through Newark.
“Tightening security around the loading docks is our best option,” Raul says carefully. “There’ll always be rats, nothing we can do about that.”
“Sure there is. Traps are effective means of taking care of rats,” Kennedy counters swiftly He’s a squirrely looking short man with beefy arms that pack a mean punch. “If we kill acouple of the people trying to skim off our goods, the others will fall in.”
In the corner of the room, Cross’s lips twitch. He’s more of the silent, stabby type. My type of person. We bonded over our love of knives when I was in Mexico for business a couple years ago. I hired him to come work for me and we’ve been in business ever since.
Raul always the voice of reason, pinches the bridge of his nose. He used to work for Matteo before my brother dumped him on my team. Said he wanted to make sure there was someone sensible among us who would at least think through our actions before skipping straight to violence. Safe to say, Raul does his job splendidly. Most of the time at least.
“There have been three public executions in the past three months. We sh-” Raul says in frustration.
“There can always be more,” I cut in calmly. “But that’s enough talk about the people stealing from us. Like Raul said, we run a business that draws in runts and people looking to make a quick buck. They’re not exactly known for their honesty. Change the topic of conversation.”
I lean back in my chair, twirling a knife between my fingers while Raul slides paperwork across the desk toward me. It’s a profile on two of our dock workers. One of whom I personally hired a couple weeks ago for security.
“They went missing this morning,” he informs me.
My eyes lift, “Missing?”
“No one’s seen them in 48 hours. They were meant to start their shifts yesterday but they didn’t show. I assumed they were taking the piss and skipping work but I’ve checked their homes and they’re not there.”
My jaw tightens. I fucking hate losing men. And these missing men are likely dead.
“Why are you giving me papers and telling me you can’t find them instead of finding them? Retrace their steps, figure out where they went, who they met up with. I don’t give a damn if you need to comb through the entire city. If they’re in captivity, you get them out. And then you bring whoever dared to mess with me here so I can show them the error of their ways.”
The room falls quiet for a beat. Raul is about to speak again when the office door swings open. All four of us look up. Liliana freezes in the doorway instantly. For a couple of seconds, nobody speaks.
My gaze slides over her automatically. She’s wearing a short black skirt that clings to her thighs and an oversized cream sweater slipping off one shoulder. Her dark curls fall wildly around her face.
Fucking hell.
