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Slowly, I creep out of bed, careful not to wake her up. Grabbing my phone, I head into the bathroom. I’ve got a small pile of text messages and emails to go through, and it’s not even daylight.
Contrary to popular belief, the mob isn’t all blackmail and back room deals; we do have some legitimate businesses to see to. Admittedly, just about all of them have a layer of shady business in there somewhere. Our construction company may also launder money, but it is a construction company with a solid reputation for quality work. I message Patrick that I need to talk to him. I have to get him up to speed on the Popov situation and run a few ideas past him.
After a very cold shower that does nothing to help with the thoughts of the beautiful woman in my bed, I dress. The navy blue Armani suit and white dress shirt would fit right in in any New York boardroom. The shoulder holster and Glock 23 would probably be less welcome. My jacket conceals the compact gun perfectly. My spare is a Springfield XDS, held snugly in a holster on my ankle. Walking out of the bedroom, I take one last look at the creature in my bed. The shirt has ridden up, exposing her round ass and toned legs.Fuck me.I shake my head and try to get some blood flow back up to my head.
Patrick is waiting in my office, two cups of coffee on the table in front of him. He hands one to me as I walk in.
“The situation in the guest room is taken care of. The carpet won’t be replaced until next week though,” he tells me without preamble.
“Thank you.”
“The lads are getting discharged from the hospital later today. So far no more trouble from the Russians, but we should anticipate higher security and retaliation going forward.”
“Agreed.” I take a seat in one of the high-back leather chairs by the fireplace rather than behind my desk. I’ve known Patrick since we were kids. There’s no need to stand on any formality when we’re alone. Patrick sits in the other chair. He gives me a mischievous look.
“By the way, where did the girl stay last night?”
“She stayed in my fucking bed where she belongs,” I growl, sounding more possessive than I anticipated.
Patrick lets out a whistle. “So that’s the way it is? Should have known the woman that finally got your attention would be a ball buster.”
“Moving along,” I give him a pointed look, “did someone meet with O’Malley and pick up the file he prepped for me?”
“Aye, I did.”
“Did you read it?”
“Aye.”
“So you know about her name.”
“Aye. Also where she was born, where she lives, and whether or not she has any parking tickets. Why the fuck does she have a fake identity working for Popov?”
I fortify myself with sip of the strong black coffee. “She’s a reporter.”
“You’ve got to be bloody kidding me.” Patrick is incredulous. I have to say, I do enjoy how often she surprises him.
“You should see your face right now, mate.” I laugh.
“Why the fuck are you laughing?”
I proceed to fill him in on her investigation. I don’t share the details about her sister. Her nightmares are safe with me.
“I have to say I’m impressed with your girl. How’d she take it when you told her it was never going to happen?”
“I didn’t.”
Patrick gives me a quizzical look. “I’m missing something here, boss.”
“I’m not letting Popov traffic fucking teenage girls through my city. We are shutting him down.”
“Aye, boss, you’ll get no argument from me.” I knew I wouldn’t. Patrick has a soft spot for broken things. He would rip Popov limb from limb for the sadistic shit he’s done. Too bad for him Popov is mine.
“Find out what we know about NYPD’s organized crime unit. Specifically a Detective J. Reynolds. Get O’Malley to poke around if you need to. Pick up the customs inspector that’s been signing off on those ships. We need to have a chat with him about his future.”
“Aye, boss.”
“Expect a meeting with De Luca soon.”
