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“Is this real?” I ask, wide-eyed at the rising numbers.
Kai is technically still an enforcer—for now—but he’s well on his way to becoming the captain for our New York territory. Kai was the mastermind behind getting our weapons trade back on track alone with the new drug we launched into the market.
“Very much so. We’ll go over everything in depth at the meeting tomorrow, but I figured you should see it first.” He smiles too sweetly.
I roll my eyes at his antics. Always the natural flirt and undoubtedly handsome. If I weren’t so enthralled with my husband, I might even blush.
“Make sure everything goes through to accounting and set something up with Omni-Trade so we don’t get behind on supply.”
Just as Kai leans over my shoulder to grab the files, my personal elevator dings, and it can only be one person. Only two of us have the code to it.
The handsome asshole himself struts down the spiral staircase.
He’s since changed out of his suit from the interview and is now sporting atightblack T-shirt and joggers. His eyes turn into slits as they land on Kai. When his eyes fall to mine, time suspends itself. Displeasure radiates off him, and it feels as if the temperature in the room has risen.
Tao looks up and pauses, hand midway to mouth, while Kai freezes. Nico strides over to my desk, circling to the side opposite of Kai, and is the first to break the silence.
“Wife,” he says, pulling my chair to him as he presses a kiss on my lips. I kiss him back and nearly forget how mad I am. He straightens. “Kai, Tao.” He dips his head in greeting.
“Mr. Delucci.”
“Sir.”
They both say in sync as Kai takes his cue to make himself scarce, failing to hide his grin. My husband sits on the edge of my desk with a look of annoyance.
Good—because that’s how I feel.
Ignoring him, I get back to my computer and pretend to work just to annoy him.
NICO
After the shit morning we had, I figured I’d play nice with my wife, but seeing that fucker Kai standing so close to her makes my blood fucking boil. There’s not a single reason for him to be hovering like that for a work meeting. What happened to professionalism? I blame Cesare.
My wife continues to ignore me, nails clicking away on her keyboard. She’s already furious at me, so I have to approach this matter delicately. I break the silence, deciding to take the coward’s way by avoiding the elephant in the room.
Leaning against her desk, I think of something safe to ask her. “How was your day?”
“Fine.”
She doesn’t even look up from her screen as she types.
Fine. That damn word.
“My day wasfine, too. Thank you for asking. I had lunch with Enzo after our interview. Dante got some information from one of the cartel guys we caught. But there’s one thing that could make it better.”
She clacks away on her keys. “And what would that be?”
“I’d like it if you weren’t angry with me anymore.”
She stops typing. Not going to lie, for a millisecond, I fear for my life. She turns slowly to face me.
“You always do this. You don’t want me to be mad? You can start by apologizing. Then you can follow through by keeping your word instead of asking me to juststop being pissed off.”
Her voice drops to imitate me, and I have to bite down on my cheek to fight a smile.
“You’re right, you’re right.” I hold my arms up. “I just wanted to see if you’d make it home for dinner.”
That also is, apparently, not the right thing to say.
