AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Uh, yeah, sure.” He gulps and continues to stare at my chest. “What do you need?”
“Well, you see, I’m an assistant to Professor Johnson over at NYU, and he’s been askin’ me to get some records on ship traffic in and out of the port, and I was hoping you’d be able to help me.” I bat my eyelashes at him and shift my shoulders just enough to emphasize my breasts again.
“Well, records requests can be filled out online,” he informs my cleavage.
“Oh, shucks. You see, I’m in kinda a pickle. The professor just decided he needed this information by day after tomorrow, and it’s gonna be all my fault if I can’t get it to him. He’s gonna fire me and I’ll lose my scholarship.” I quiver my voice just a little and blink my eyes rapidly. A quiet sniffle completes my fake tears act. “Isn’t there any way you could help me,” I look at his name tag, “Kevin?”
To his credit, he looks incredibly uncomfortable for about three seconds. “Ok, honey, I’ll get them for you. How much do you need?”
“The last six months if you’re able to. Thank you so, so much, Kevin!” I give him my best smile and bat my eyelashes some more. I feel like I’m sending out Morse code at this point. It doesn’t take long before Kevin returns with two thick file folders, still warm off the copier. Little overachiever, it looks like he copied much more than I asked for.
“Oh, my gawd! Thank you so much! You’re savin’ my life right now!” I take the folders from him. I can tell he’s about to ask me something, so I shout out another over the top loud thank you and scoot out the door.
As it turns out, my new pal Kevin copied the last eighteen months of data. I have papers stacked on every horizontal surface in my apartment. My problem isn’t a lack of data, it’s so much of it. NYC has one of the busiest ports in the world. I separate the dead girls into groups based on when the bodies were found and backtrack to the earliest estimated time of death per group and consider that an arrival date. Hundreds of ships arrive on those dates.
Jesus Christ. Talk about needles in a haystack.
I pull out a bottle of wine and sit down with my laptop. I start making my own spreadsheet. Name of vessel, country of origin, owner, date of arrival, customs information.
This is going to be a long night.
CHAPTER8
Sean
I start every day with a workout of some sort. It’s the best way to keep myself from shooting someone for being a pain in the arse first thing in the fucking morning. Today, just like every other day this week, I spent the morning running in Central Park. Unfortunately, I haven’t caught up to the hazel-eyed beauty again.
I slow to a jog and head back to my penthouse apartment. I nod at the men guarding the back entrance I use and enter the code to call the secured elevator. It also requires a fingerprint scan to activate the lift. The elevator leads directly to my front door. From there, an open concept floor plan flows from the living room to the kitchen and dining areas. A short hallway leads to my office. Patrick sits on the living room sofa with a cup of coffee, reading through my daily copy of theNew York Times.
“You’re up early, mate.” I dip my head in the direction of my office. I have the apartment swept for electronic listening devices daily, but the office has active countermeasures to prevent recording or transmission. Business discussions happen in the office.
Grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge, I lean against my desk. Patrick doesn’t keep me waiting.
“Popov’s been selling weapons in the city. We tracked the RPGs back to some of his lackeys. He’s been doing some small arms as well.”
Dimitri Popov, newly risen head of the New York Bratva, and a perpetual pain in the arse. I knew it was only a matter of time before someone had to handle the situation. The city functions with a tenuous cease fire, a division of labor and resources between us, La Cosa Nostra, and the Bratva. Popov has been slowly pushing the limits of the arrangement.
“He’s going to make a play for a bigger stake in the city. That’s going to have to be dealt with. Get ahold of the Italians and set up a meeting with De Luca. I want him to know that we have no problem with La Cosa Nostra. Last thing I need is for that pompous fuck to think we disrespected him by keeping him out of the loop.” I down half the water.
Patrick snorts. “We can handle the Italians.”
“Aye, we can,” I nod in agreement, “but it’s not wise to fight two enemies at once. Keeping the Italians happy is in our best interest.”
Patrick grunts before nodding his agreement. It doesn’t actually matter if he agrees with me, but I prefer to have power through respect and loyalty, rather than fear and intimidation.
“Then have the boys get as much updated intel on Popov as we can. I want to know everything, from when his shipments come in, to where he fucks his mistress.”
“Aye, boss.” Patrick pulls out his phone as he walks out, already delegating my orders.
CHAPTER9
Rocky
I wake up to the shrill ringing of my phone. The sun is blasting down on my throbbing head, and I’m on the living room floor. I fell asleep surrounded by a sea of port records. The ringing continues.
“Hello?” I greet groggily.
“Well, hi to you too, sunshine.” Tasha sounds way too cheerful for her own good. “What’s got your morning grump going? Late night? Oooh, did you have a date?”
