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“You must be Aria Russo,” the man says, standing and rounding the desk to offer me his hand. “My name is Agent Jameson Carmichael and I am in charge of this case. Thank you for coming to speak with me today.”
I glare at him and ignore the offered hand. “It’s not like I had much of a choice. It was either help the FBI or get arrested for a crime I allegedly did that nobody can prove.”
“Aria, your love of racing is well documented in several of our files. Please, let’s at least be civil while we’re working together,” Jameson says, smiling as he takes a seat.
My glare only deepens. It’s a thinly veiled threat. If I don’t play by his rules, he’s going to send me to jail. It doesn’t matter whether I committed the crime or not, he’ll find something to put me away for.
“Please take a seat. This is going to be a rather long meeting and we have a lot we need to go over.”
I sit down across from him, surprised when Tyson takes the seat beside me. As I sit up straight, I do my best to pretend that I barely know him and nothing has happened between us.
“Now, Tyson is going to be acting as your handler but we also need a way for him to be close to you.”
“That’s going to be impossible. My father knows who he is and what he looks like,” I say, already poking holes in their potential plan before they can get rolling with it.
Tyson smirks as he leans back in his chair. “Don’t worry about that. We’ve already got that part figured out.”
I raise an eyebrow at him but don’t say anything.
If they think that they know a way around my father, I wish them the best of luck. My father isn’t the kind of man who is fooled easily. He doesn’t trust anybody and he is suspicious of everybody. It’s what has kept him in power for this long.
“What’s that look for?” Tyson asks, his eyes narrowing as he studies me. “What do you know that we don’t?”
“I know that my father pays more attention to people than you’d like to give him credit for. If you think that you can get Tyson in without my father noticing that he’s the FBI agent I was seen with at the club, you’re idiots.”
Tyson sighs. “We have a plan. You’re going to be attacked several times. I’m going to be there to save you the last time and you’re going to demand that I’m the one who keeps you safe.”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t think things through. He has made it his business to recognize people and their motives. You aren’t going to be able to get anything by him.”
“He hasn’t seen the tattoos and if I grow my facial hair out, I don’t look like the same person,” Tyson says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Add a pair of glasses instead of the contacts I normally wear and he won’t know the difference.”
I try to picture him with his tattoos on display and more facial hair. It’s hard not to think about what those tattoos looked like when he was naked.
“It will have to be enough,” Jameson says, cutting off the argument between us before it really begins. “We have intelligence that says that your father is hosting a dinner party tonight with several of his associates.”
“That might be true,” I say, glancing at the other agent.
There is something in his expression that makes me think he is going to be anything but easy to work with. He looks like he has no interest in playing by the rules. The hatred in his eyes tells me that he will do whatever it takes to bring my family down.
“Before we continue with any of this,” I say, leaning forward in my seat. “I’m going to need to see this agreement and what it outlines. I need to know that I have immunity.”
“And what if I told you that I don’t have those papers with me?” Jameson asks, smirking as he crosses his arms.
I stand up and start walking to the stairs. There is no way that I’m going to sit here and entertain working with him unless I get my immunity. There’s too much that I’m risking for them with no promise of my own safety.
“Wait,” Jameson says, his voice echoing through the room. “I have the papers here.”
I return to the desk and read the papers, reading through each line carefully and making sure that there are no loopholes. While I’m working with the FBI, any crimes committed prior to and committed during will be overlooked. They will not investigate me beyond the actions required to bring down the Russo family.
“Pen,” I say, holding out my hand to Tyson.
After the papers are signed, Jameson starts talking about the attacks that will be happening. He outlines everything that will take place over the next couple of weeks to convince my father that I need more protection.
It sounds like a plan that might work, but my father is unpredictable at best.
“Well,” I say a few hours later as I get up and slide the burner phone Tyson gave me into my pocket. “This has been fun but I have a dinner party to get to.”
Neither of the men says anything as I walk to the staircase and leave them seated at the desk. My mind is spinning as I head back home, ready to spend my evening charming men twice my age.
