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Antonio stood and adjusted his suit coat. “Armond, I’ll wait for word that the problem is solved. Until then, gentlemen,” he nodded to every man in the room before turning directly to Isabella. “And, lady.”
With that, he gestured for his son and advisors to follow as he exited the room. One by one, the rest of the families followed suit, Cassius and his father included, until Severo said, “You two, stay. Please.”
The door clicked shut behind the last of the departing families, leaving the room steeped in a tense quiet. Severo remained standing, one hand braced on the table as he made introductions.
“Armond, Cassius, this is Kenyon Alexander. He’s not connected to any of the families, but when certain problems need to disappear quietly, his name makes its way into the conversation.”
Cassius tilted his head as his interest piqued. So he was a contract killer, one who’d interrupted their meeting without batting an eye. Which meant whatever he had to say would likely throw their worlds into even more chaos.
“Do I even want to know how you crossed paths with a hit man outside of our network?” Armond raised an eyebrow.
That’s when Kenyon spoke for the first time. “The details aren’t important, but Severo looked out for me in ways I could never repay him for. However, me being here is my attempt at trying. One of my handlers called me about a job no one else would touch. I’m supposed to be on a sabbatical, but with each rejection, the offer price kept increasing, which is how it landed in my lap. A high rejection count usually means the job is complicated but after receiving the details, I’m assuming it’s less about the difficulty level,” he broke off and looked to Armond and Cassius. “No offense, I’m sure the organization’s security is tight, but I’m sure the last name attached to the contract had more to do with no one wanting to touch it than anything else.”
Anticipation gnawed at Cassius as he asked, “Whose name is on the contract?”
The air in the room stilled as Kenyon pinned each man under a brief gaze before his eyes settled on Severo.
“Aella’s.”
“I’m a dead woman walking,” Aella Torrisi thought, glancing at the gold watch wrapped around her dainty wrist while strolling out of the building that had held her hostage for the past fourteen hours. She’d planned to clock out at least two hours prior, but the perfectionist in her wouldn’t allow it. Not with as many whispers that floated around the building about her securing her position because of nepotism.
Not that she didn’t expect it. The minute her father announced that he was relinquishing the family business to her, Aella knew there would be pushback. But she’d earned her spot fair and square, and anyone who had a problem with it would only go so far as whispering. They’d never say what they truly felt to her face.
Glancing at her watch again, Aella groaned, thinking about the impending lecture she was sure to receive from her father for being late. He’d requested she be present for an impromptu meeting that had begun thirty minutes ago. It would take her at least another twenty to get back to the estate. Although she could argue that her delay was due to a lack of proper notice, Aella knew how poorly it looked for her to be absent. If roles were reversed, she’d be annoyed too.
Her heels clicked against the pavement as she picked up her pace, moving toward her car. When she was nearly halfway there, a sharp wind whipped through the air, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. Aella’s head swiveled as she wrapped her arms around herself, attempting to block out the cold. Her eyes narrowed as she squinted into the darkness, trying to catch a glimpse of anything moving in the dark. There was nothing there, but she couldn’t block out the nauseating feeling that someone was watching her.
Fear snaked through her, gripping her like a vice. Forcing herself to keep moving, Aella dropped one of her arms and reached into her bag for the small pistol she always kept on her person. Her last name struck fear into some of the hardest of hearts, but that didn’t mean someone wouldn’t try her. Operating around that fear had become as normal as breathing. It was the life she’d been born into—her reality. There was no escaping it.
“You won’t be needing that,” a somewhat familiar voice reached her ears as a figure stepped out of the shadows. Aella’s shoulders tensed as she recognized the man who’d crashed her family’s gala. “I don’t mean you any harm.”
Aella’s hand tightened on her gun as she found her voice. “What, you’re following me now?”
“Not necessarily. I just so happened to be in the area as you were leaving.”
One of her eyebrows raised. “Right. You just happened to be in my job’s parking lot. Find a dummy to believe whatever bullshit you’re spitting, because it’s not me.”
His deep chuckle rumbled through the air surrounding them as the man took another step forward. This time, Aella removed her gun from her purse completely.
“Well, well, you are your father’s daughter.”
“Want to try your luck and figure out just how much like my father I am?”
The man’s head tilted sideways. “Hmm. Do my ears deceive me, or is that an admission of your father’s crimes?”
“Get to the point of what the fuck you’re doing here,” Aella snarled.
“My name is Calder Moore. I’m part of a task force put together to investigate your family.”
Aella laughed lightly. “Don’t tell me the Feds put together a task force for a little whiskey. The last time I checked, prohibition was over.”
“I think you’re intelligent enough to know that my reasoning for being here goes way beyond whiskey,” Calder dropped the pleasantries.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do,” he challenged. “Though I’d be a fool to expect you to admit otherwise. This legacy your father handed you is a front. And getting wrapped up in his sins would cost at least twenty years of your life, minimum.”
Aella remained silent as the wind whipped around them, nipping at the tip of her already freezing nose.