Page 10 of Dangerous Games

Deciding it’s best for me to stay sober so I have a clear head, I cross the few feet of my studio to where he’s lounging on my small sofa with his arm lazing across the back and hand him his drink.

His lips tip down into a small frown as he takes the glass. “You don’t have any umbrellas?”

I tilt my head to the side in confusion. “Umbrellas?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “You know, those little paper ones they put in your drinks?”

“You want one for your whiskey?” I ask, a little floored. I’ve never seen a grown man want an umbrella in his drink, let alone a straight glass of whiskey.

“It makes it go down smoother.” He shrugs.

“What’s your name?” I ask abruptly, changing the subject. “It’s only fair I know yours since you know mine.”

He says nothing as he takes a sip of his drink while he studies me, his face schooled with an unreadable mask.

“It’s Gio,” he finally answers.

Gio.

It fits him. The dark hair, the dark, tailored suit, the scary commanding energy he emits when he walks into a room.

“Why are you here, Gio?”

We both know why he’s here. I just want to see if he’s man enough to tell me to my face that he’s here to take care of me.

Gio lets out a resigned sigh. “I’m here to come to some sort of arrangement.”

My eyebrow quirks up. An arrangement? A man like him doesn’t exactly seem like he’s in the business of negotiating with people.

“What kind of arrangement?” I ask, crossing my fingers and toes that curiosity doesn’t kill the cat this time.

“The kind that fixes my fuck-up and you don’t talk about what you saw to anyone.”

“And what does that entail?” I ask as I cross my arms, skeptical of what’s going to come out of his mouth next.

“What you walked into should never have happened. And that’s on me. I can admit where I went wrong. However, my boss and I need to make sure you don’t repeat what you saw to anyone.”

Trust me, buddy. I’ve already thought about it, and every scenario I’ve run through my head ends with me being checked into a mental hospital because that’s how fucking crazy I would sound.

“I’m not going to repeat it to anyone.”

“That’s great.” Gio nods, not looking entirely convinced. “To ensure that though, I’m here to enter into a contract of sorts.” Gio takes out a white envelope from the interior pocket of his suit jacket. “Every two weeks you will get $5,000 in exchange for your silence. If you happen to break the agreement, the money will stop and there will be consequences.” He pins me with a hard look.

“Are you trying to pay me off?” I blink at him in shock.

Five thousand dollars is a lot of money. It would change my life in a way that I wouldn’t have to live paycheck to paycheck anymore, and I wouldn’t have to pick up every overtime shift that pops up. I could finally breathe easy. Maybe even save up to buy a little place of my own.

Do I want to be attached to them? They’re clearly into some sketchy shit if they’re trying to pay me off. What if it comes back on me? I’m not cut out for prison. Is taking bribe money illegal? See? I don’t even fucking know.

“Trying? No.” Gio downs the rest of his drink and sets his glass on my thrifted coffee table. The table rocks slightly from being on uneven legs. “I will be paying you off. I’m sorry that I didn’t make myself clear earlier, but this isn’t up for negotiation. You have no other choice but to accept my offer.”

“Then why did you make it seem like I had one?”

“I was trying to be nice.”

I snort.

Nice would have been to leave me the fuck alone.