She wants me. Maybe even as much as I want to be inside of her. She wants to play games, though, so I won’t push. But I sure as hell won’t sit by and let her get herself killed fucking with the wrong families.
I’d destroy them all first.
I step back, giving her space once again, and sit down. I switch tactics, trying to get her to see reason.
“What do you even know about the Bratva?”
She recovers, leaning back in her chair. “I know enough. And I’ll know even more soon.”
“I doubt it. You have no idea what you’re dealing with. You think they’re like us? We watched you for years, Ms. Beaumont.I had your full file before my brother’s wedding. Your conviction rate, your Columbia transcripts, your caseload. I knew about this RICO investigation when it was still case notes in a manila folder on your desk.”
I let that land.
“You’ve been building it in our house, and we let you, because you hadn’t found anything yet that mattered, I made sure of that. The question you should be asking is why we’re still letting you.
“Hell, your efforts even landed my sister-in-law in danger, and you’re still breathing. If it were the Bratva, you’d be dead right now, your body floating on a river somewhere.”
She smiles, and it’s entirely fake, entirely disingenuous, but no less beautiful because of it.
My gaze drops to her mouth, and suddenly I’m thinking about kissing her until that polished little act cracks apart beneath my hands. Damn this woman.
“Are you saying I’m special?”
I bite back a growl, “I’m saying you’re going to get yourself killed.”
She lets out a small sigh. I count one breath, then another, before she speaks, her voice cool.
“You seem to have a flawed perception of me, Mr. Vitale. I’m not some pure innocent woman who thinks unicorns exist and there’s a pot of gold at the end of rainbows. I’m well aware that there’s evil in the world. And I have no misconceptions about the power of good or how it can prevail over evil. I know what I’m dealing with, and I have no intention of fighting fair or with clean hands.”
I lean forward, taking in those words with no small measure of interest.
“So what’s with the moral pompousness?”
“It’s not pompousness,” She grits out. “No matter what I do or what means I take to achieve what I want, I will simply neverbe as evil as you and your world. I will never condone taking an innocent life, and while I may dirty my hands, at the end of the day, I’m doing it for the greater good. None of my actions are motivated by selfishness.”
“Moral pompousness indeed,” I say slowly, amusement coloring my tone. “You’re very cute, princess. And you’re also going to get yourself killed.”
Our gazes connect at the end of the statement. The air between us shifts, becomes tighter, charged. My gaze flicks briefly to her mouth, then back to her eyes. It’s subtle, but she catches it and it only makes her more angry.
“If I do get myself killed, then it’s none of your business,” she snaps. “And stop calling me princess.”
I study her for a moment before getting to my feet.
“You know you like it,” I say, my voice light and teasing. She snarls in reply. “I’ll see you around. Try not to get yourself killed before then.”
I turn around and leave before she can say anything else. No one bats an eye as I walk out of her office. It’s amusing. They spend their days trying to catch bad guys. And yet they have no idea about the one that walks in their midst.
Lindsay’s very aware of who the bad guys are. The problem is, she keeps putting herself in danger to try and take them out. Perhaps one day she’ll learn that her efforts, while laudable, achieve nothing.
Because I always win.
My phone vibrates against my skin and I pull it out, reading the text from my youngest brother.
Elio: The Don’s back.
I’ll be there in ten minutes, I reply.
I arrive at my family home and head straight upstairs to the Don’s home office. The room is quiet when I walk in. My brothers are all settled inside.
