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Seeing her in my shirt tastes sweeter than cocaine ever did.
“Do you accept my business offer?” I cut a small chunk of my steak and place it in front of the woman who still, even now, barely picks at her meal. “You’ll do some research for me, unravel a mystery we’re both attempting to solve anyway.”
“Does that make me the mob, too?” She rolls her eyes, but leans forward to accept the beef from the end of my fork. “I prefer my status as socialite. Not crooked journalist.”
I snort and bring my silverware back to my plate to cut off a slice formyself. “It’s research you would have done anyway. I’m not asking you to execute a man.”
Her eyes narrow to dangerous slits. “How often do you do that?”
“Only when necessary. Tell me, what do you already know about my family? Anything that I don’t?”
Thankfully, she lets me off easy, skimming over the execution mess, and shrugging at my next questions. “Just the same stuff that’s already been reported. Timothy Malone the Second was your father. His father, Timothy the First, ran the family business before him. There’s a Timothy Malone the Third, but I guess he didn’t want the job, so now you have it.”
“Tim’s in love with a square,” I smirk. “Doctor Mayet’s second-in-charge and bestie best friend in the whole wide world. He won’t admit it,” I add, “but I know a man who’s smitten. And he doesn’t want to be like the other Tim; he wants to be like Arch. So he took off to Copeland too, and now he runs a bar and checks out the nerdy doctor in his spare time.”
“But you?” Christabelle challenges. “Youdidwant the job?”
“I don’t hate it. Most of all, I want my family to be safe. If we’re not here to control our slice of the city, old grudges will surface, and Malone hunting season will be open. Some families have already tried it. Micah was taken and tortured just a couple months ago by a man I wish I’d killed.”
“Yeah?” Her silver eyes flicker between mine. “Who took him?”
“Emilio Pastore. He’s a dickless kumquat who held a grudge after my father stepped on his toes over the years. So the second that Tim was struck down sick, Emilio made a move and tried to fracture what was left of the Malone empire. He fucked with my family, but all he did was reunite five brothers after sixteen years apart and make us stronger. We repaid his kindness, everything was deemedfair, and we were ordered to move on.”
“Ordered?” She picks up a slice of cucumber between her fingers, then sitting back, she rests against the headboard and nibbles on the edge of her morsel. “Who orders you around?”
“Very few.” I follow the long lines of her legs, up to where my underwearloosely encircles her thighs. “I take counsel from my men. From my brothers. And once upon a time, from my father.”
Her eyes darken in an instant. Her brows pull closer together.
The mere mention of Timothy the Second angers her. That reaction could make me curious, except… same.
“They give their opinions,” I continue, “but only one man has the power totellme what to do. To disobey typically means death.”
As our conversation moves on from Tim, she relaxes the muscles in her face and goes back to chewing. “Who has that kind of authority?”
“Estefan Cordoza. He’s, like…” I try to think of a word to describe the most powerful man in the city. “Well, I guess you know what I am. Or at least, youthinkyou know. Cordoza is Ronald McDonald, and the guys who run a family, like me, are the burger flippers. If we don’t flip exactly the way he wants us to, he’s apt to shove our heads into the fryers and make a bad day worse.”
“He sounds like a murderous, drug slinging asshole.” She lifts her knees and wraps her arms around her legs. “He doesn’t sound like someone you’d want to know.”
I slice off more steak and offer it across. “He’s actually a pretty decent guy. He’s been good to me.”
“Which implies you cook the burgers to his satisfaction. It means you’re good at being a mobster.”
“It means my sister-in-law is cute, and she made friends with the guy.”
Christabelle’s eyes shoot to the door, though we both know Minka isn’t standing there. “So sheisin with the mob? Even after all the talk about her prestigious job and her ex-mafia, current-cop husband?”
Bringing her gaze back to me, she presses, “People keep saying she and Archer are clean and not a part of this world, but then new information pops up contradicting that.”
“Life isn’t black and white.” I toss a chunk of steak into my mouth and speak around it. “He was born into the family he was born into. Nothing can change that. Not distance. Not a badge. Not a deep need to stay away. Micah was hurt and our father was dying, so he came home when he was asked to, and merely acted as a body in the room. He hurt no one. Sold nothing. Transported nothing. He didn’t participate inanything he shouldn’t have. But he was here, standing up and showing Pastore you don’t fuck with a Malone.”
“And Minka? She came along and justhappenedto make friends with the head chef?”
A burst of air escapes me in a snort. “Minka married a man who was born into this family. No matter what anyone says or does, that connection can’t be severed. Though, it’s fair to say she was as pleased about his affiliations as you are. So when he ditched town without telling her, to return to the life he swore he’d left, naturally, she came looking. She discovered the mess we were dealing with, and instead of walking into Pastore’s home with a gun and brute strength, the waywe’reapt to do, she made friends with someone more powerful than our enemy.”
“Estefan Cordoza,” she surmises.
“Mmhm. Cordoza liked Minka—still does—and because of my connection to her, he favors me. He treats me well, and in repayment, I do as he pleases.”
