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“Rumor has it Michaelson’s head isn’t in the game because of this Lia,” Bertie said. “That he’s been holed up at his estate with her. I got word that they met in a Sons of Celtbar — that shewas there to try and sort out Lou’s shit. I think Ty took in some charity pussy. He’s never been with a broad for more than one night; never mind taken one home.”
“Well, well,” I said, and my grin grew wider. “A crack in the old Michaelson armor.”
“Exactly,” Bertie said, and I grabbed his shoulder in dark glee. “The servers at the restaurant we paid off said they’d never seen Tyler Michaelson act like that with anyone. Said he almost seemed human. He’s head over heels. And she’s pretty dopey about him.”
“Holy fuck,” I crowed and poured Bertie a drink. “Bertie, you came through.”
He grinned and plopped down on the couch; drinking deeply from his glass. Meanwhile, I went to my desk and called Minnie. “Send me Karin, Lolly and Beth.” Then I went back to my drink and toasted Bertie. “No one but the two of us knows that Marina Fioreno’s death wasn’t a suicide.”
“Nope,” Bertie said with a tipsy chuckle. “You can use that. Convince Lia that Michaelson is responsible for her mother’s death. Have Ricky help, too. Sow distrust and you’ll have everything you need to take Michaelson down from the inside.”
“It’s perfect,” I murmured, and then the three women appeared in the door, giving me curious looks. “Ladies, have you met Bertie?”
Bertie almost choked on his drink as the three beautiful women sauntered over, their massive tits bouncing in their barely-there bikinis.
“He’s done good,” I said. “Saved all our asses. Show him a good time.”
Killing you won’t be personal, Bertie. I hope you know that.
Killing Bertie in a few weeks would be an unfortunate byproduct of good business. No one else could know what happened to Marina Fioreno if I was going to end the Michaelson empire and take over Boston within the next six weeks.
I’d destroy Fioreno’s brat —andMichaelson’s new woman.
Who knew this Lia Goldin would be the key to my success?
I gave Bertie a smile as his eyes fogged over with pleasure and tits bounced his face, filled his hands and worked his ugly cock. Laughing as he hiccupped with moans and my girls whispered sweet, filthy lies – I downed my drink and walked out, whistling. In the meantime, I’d have my girls drowning Bertie in tits and ass and pussy for the next few weeks. Let the old boy go out with a bang. He deserved it. He’d been a hell of a lawyer and a loyal soldier.
But I’d be Boss of this family, of this goddamn city, come hell or high water.
Don’t worry, Michaelson,I vowed to my enemy in my head.I’ll make sure to thank your Lia for helping me destroy you.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Lia
“Lia.”
I gasped and shot upright, my hands curled into fists, protecting my face.
“Woah.” Ty sat on the bed, a little rumpled and less put together than usual. I blinked at him, noting the scruff on his face, the waviness of his hair and the t-shirt and jeans he wore. For a second, I thought I was in another dream – then he caught my fists. “Who are you fighting in your dreams?” He gave me a soft grin and something in my chest twisted with so much longing I thought I would cry out. “Do I have to call my guys and have them kick someone’s dream ass?”
Slowly, I uncurled my fingers and let my hands fall on his chest. Warm, solid muscle met my touch, and then I threw myself at him, holding onto him and willing away the terrible nightmarethat I’d been having — a nightmare of my old house and stumbling upon my mother’s prostrate body.
I breathed in and held on tighter. I was safe. I was in Ty’s arm, with his delicious scent of skin and cologne, his strong arms and rough accent, his body tensing as though to fight off a threat, even though it was all in my head.
I held on tighter as Ty made a surprised sound.
“Another nightmare?” Ty asked and now I tensed. His hands smoothed down my back and up into my hair, tugging me before looking into my face. “I didn’t know how to bring it up…” He trailed off. “I’m fuckin’ awful at this shit. But are you… You okay?”
Ty’s voice had roughened. There was a heartbreaking thread of uncertainty in his tone, something in his eyes that looked young and lost, and I kissed him.
“I’m okay,” I said and blinked at the windows. “What time is it?”
“Nine or so,” Ty said and tugged my hair. “You always sleep this late?”
I shook my head, even though I sometimes did. But no matter what time I woke up, Ty was always long gone. In fact, over the past month, since we'd started sleeping together, this was the first time I'd woken up and he'd been there.
“Get up,” he ordered. “I have to show you something.”
