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Speaking of. “Get me a meeting with Campbell.”
“The investigator? Why?”
“She's hiding something. I want to know what.” I didn't wait for a response, storming the rest of the way down the hall and closing myself in my office with a slam of the door that let everyone know I was not to be disturbed. I barely resisted the urge to shove all the stuff off my desk in my fit of rage.
Samara had been keeping secrets from me for months, maybe even longer. As long as I'd known her, she'd been an open book with me. For her to be cryptic for months and then reveal some bullshit story about his gambling being the cause for a sudden divorce meant something serious had happened.
And if I found out he'd laid a hand on her, there'd be nothing left for Ryker to chop up and burn by the time I was done with him.
The knock on the door came only a minute later. "Campbell will be here tomorrow at 2," Enzo said, not daring to open the door. I didn't bother to answer.
Not while I still vibrated with the fury that Samara would keep something important from me. As soon as she was mine, fully and completely, we'd be having a very serious conversation.
And it couldn't come soon enough.
Three
Samara
It felt like everyone's eyes fell on me as we waited in the elevator. That was always the consequence of Lino coming around.
He intimidated everyone around him in ways that most men could never dream of doing. Even though he was lighter, less severe than his cousin Matteo, he just commanded the surrounding air.
Us mere mortals never stood a chance of not being drawn into that orbit. The intoxicating combination of danger and sex-appeal was irresistible to anyone who laid eyes on him, but when you combined those things with the unique affection he showed me? I'd never stood a chance. I'd fallen in love with him when I was too young to even understand what romantic love was, and while I'd long since let go of those feelings and accepted that we would be nothing more than friends, it didn't stop the people at work from looking at me as though I was on the verge of metamorphosis.
"Good afternoon, Miss Mahoney," one investor murmured with a bowed head as the elevator let him off on the floor below Jasper’s office.
"Good afternoon," I mumbled in return, suddenly eager to make it to the relative peace and privacy that my desk offered. Having everyone stare at me because of something work-related was one thing, but I'd never been comfortable with the attention my friendship with Lino brought.
Users.
Abusers.
Jealous women.
Nothing good could come from any of them, and I demanded my own respect. Not the respect I gained because of my association with someone else.
I let out a sigh of relief when the empty elevator deposited me on the top floor, but it was short-lived. "Samara?" Jasper called from his office where he’d propped the door open. I moved in to stand in his open door, my eyes darting out the window at his back to the sprawling view of Chicago. Lamb & Rowe occupied the top floor of the building, one of the taller ones in the city. Jasper turned, following my gaze to stare at the building a few blocks away. The refurbished warehouse that held Indulgence, where Lino ran the Bellandi business from behind his desk in the upper office, was striking in the urban backdrop otherwise filled with steel and glass. Even lower than the skyscraper Jasper occupied, i
t was just as impressive.
With a sigh, he turned back around to face me. "I don't want to tell you how to live your life."
"Then don't," I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest defensively.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he groaned. "Angelino Bellandi is not the man you need, Samara. Don't tell me you're getting involved with him."
"We're just friends."
"I don't like it. After Connor, the last thing you need is someone with a reputation like that—"
"Lino would burn this city to the ground before he let anything hurt me, Jasper." The words tumbled from me in a rush, true even if I had no desire to voice them.
"Then why is Connor still alive and giving you trouble? Why isn't he dead and buried where he belongs?" The vehemence in Jasper's voice still caught me off-guard every time, but there was no doubt about the cause.
After the assault, I'd mostly hidden out at my house until my feet could heal and the other injuries could disappear. Given I'd never missed two days of work in a row since I'd started at Lamb & Rowe, Jasper hadn't bought the excuse that I was sick and checked on me. He'd promised to hunt Connor down himself, and the only way I'd been able to dissuade him was by promising that Lino and Yavin had that covered.
I couldn't look at him, not as realization dawned on his features. The way my black boots contrasted the marble floors suddenly seemed fascinating. "You lied to me," he hissed in disbelief. When my eyes finally met his, it was to find his hands clutching the arms of his desk chair so tightly it might snap. "He has no fucking idea, does he? No clue what that piece of shit did to you?"
