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“Has Papa reached out to you?” he asks tentatively, eyebrows pinched.
“About my birthday? No, why? And why do you seem so nervous?”
Silence lingers as he ponders his thoughts. Then he heads to my apartment.
“It’s nothing. We’ve just had some strange things happen in Chicago lately. He’s been meaning to check up on you and make sure everything is okay.”
“Should I be worried?”
“No.” He pauses. “But if you see anything—anything at all, no matter how small—I need you to promise you’ll tell me.”
“Uhm, okay. I promise.”
We sat in silence the rest of the way home.
Nico
After the happy couple eats dinner, they head back to what I assume is her penthouse. I know this because I’m on a rooftop across the street with a perfect view into her place. What did this girl do for a living? Was he paying for this? It isn’t unusual for made men to take on outsiders as mistresses.
They turn on the TV and watch shit reality television the rest of the evening. They might be happy, but they sure as fuck were boring. All I know is, if I had her alone, we would not be spending the night watching TV. My cock hardens just thinking about what I’d do to her.Fuck.Get it together. She could be the enemy—or worse, an innocent who’s about to get caught in the crossfire.
When I get home, I hop in the shower. As the hot water soothes my body, all I can think about is the dark-haired beauty. I wrap my hand around my cock, hoping this would help get her out of my system.
* * *
The next day was business as usual. I woke up at six a.m. to get in my daily workout. I had breakfast on my balcony, taking in the New York City skyline I love so much. When I get out of the shower, I see a missed call from Dante. I’ve been waiting for him to get back to me about the mystery woman.
My phone rings just as I was about to return the call. I tap the answer key, and before I could utter anything, Dante is on the other end.
“Excuse me, where have you been?” he says in the worst impression of an angry woman.
“Sorry, dear. I was in the shower and just about to return your call, but you beat me to it,” I reply.Why do I encourage this?
“Don’t let it happen again!” he yells in a huff.
“Dante, you’re getting way too good at this. Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”
Cackling on the other end, his voice goes back to normal.
“I got the information you wanted on our girl.”
Our girl.I don’t like that he called her that. I push that thought and my unexpected feelings aside, not ready to dissect that.
“And?”
“Not much, but it could be something. Some of it doesn’t make any sense.”
“Come over and let’s talk. I don’t want to do this over the—”
Before I could finish my sentence, my doorbell rang.
“Already ahead of you, man!”
I hang up and make my way to the front door. I key in the code, and it slides open.
Dante saunters in, all six-foot-two of him, with coffees in hand. We look alike, but I’m taller, and we both have dark hair and olive skin, except his hair is longer, and his eyes are hazel.
“What did you find?” I ask as we head into my office.
