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My God. She had a way of turning me into a stupid kid in lust.
“Actually, it was the way the heroine punched the reporter that I liked the best.”
She almost choked on her sip, forced to grab her napkin. “You do surprise me, Kirill Sabatin. As much as I want to hate you, I can’t seem to hold firm to my commitment.”
“Hate me, Candy. That’s what you need to do.” I said the words regretfully, although they were truthful.
Her expression changed as she turned thoughtful, but the powerful gleam never left her eyes.
I’d told her I was going to ruin her. The truth was she would be the one to ruin me.
There was no reason for me to believe the Italians were involved in the attack or any other devious behavior. We were able to enjoy our dinner without incident, finally free of unwanted attention. Was I able to breathe a sigh of relief? Absolutely not. Exactly the opposite. I felt like time was running out. Whether or not that was the truth was inconsequential. It was time to place the fear of God into every informant and those under our control to aid us in finding the truth.
And being careful in order to avoid a war wasn’t my modus operandi.
“Do you trust me enough to allow me to go to the bathroom?” she asked after the last bite of food had been consumed.
“I assure you that even if you were daring enough to try and escape through the service or exit doors, you’d find one of my men waiting to retrieve you. This isn’t about trust, Candy. This is about keeping you safe.”
I’d known my statement would rile her, but it was necessary to remind her that her choices were limited. Her sense of danger wasn’t where it should be.
Her nose wrinkling for a second time with an entirely different meaning, she jerked to a halt, tossing her napkin, glaring at me before walking away. As expected, she cursed under her breath as she left.
The waiter had been standing in the wings, waiting for an opportunity to approach. “Would you enjoy an after-dinner drink, sir?”
“Bourbon. Neat. Amaretto for the lady.” I shot him a look and nothing more. He knew to move away from me quickly.
When I sensed a return only seconds later, I bristled.
When Valentin Vincheti slipped into Candy’s seat, I lifted my head, staring into his eyes. As the firstborn son of the Italian Mafioso, he was set to take over as the head of the family upon his father’s retirement. While his life was uncharacteristic of what anyone would expect coming from such a brutal upbringing, he was dangerous nonetheless.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” I asked as he placed two brandy snifters on the table.
“On the house,” he said quietly, studying me intently. “I wanted to thank you for the gift you left on my doorstep.”
Gift. He was nothing if not amusing. I remained quiet, waiting to hear what he had to say. At least the body had gotten his attention.
“I assume it was your handiwork,” he added.
“And what if it was?”
“The warning didn’t go unnoticed, Sabatin. However, I’m curious as to the reason.”
“Let’s just say I’m hunting certain people.”
“I heard about your issues with the Irish clan. Can I offer assistance?”
Assistance? What was he getting at? Whatever the deal was between the two families was starting to irritate me given I wasn’t privy to the reason behind it. “I’ll play along, Valentin. What do you know about a rogue group attempting to slide into our territory?”
He took a few seconds before answering. “The gift you sent me provided that answer. He’s a turncoat, his loyalty shifting to the Irishmen.”
So the man had been one of the Vincheti operatives. I did find that interesting. “Go on.”
“He owed a debt to the Irishmen that couldn’t be repaid. As such, he indentured himself to someone else, hoping that would provide some… relief.”
As usual, words were chosen carefully. There was always a chance some FBI agent or other operative was enjoying dinner at the same time. ‘Irishmen’ was nothing more than a code for the smaller Irish mob. They’d never made a push before, but they remained lurking in the background like the cockroaches they were. “Their intentions?”
“You and I both know there is no opportunity for new blood at this time. Therefore, and this is my opinion, they are making a play in an entirely different manner, attempting to bring down an even greater Irish power.”
