Page 62

He shakes his head vigorously, his bottom lip trembling. “Ye-yes… pl-please… anything.”

I crouch beside him and roughly grab his face, yanking him toward me. “You come anywhere near Portia James again, and next time, it’s not a water tank you’ll be in. It’ll be the ocean, where we dump your dead body to swim with the fishes. You come near her and I will turn you into fish food and chop you up into fucking bits and pieces to feed them. Tell me, Lincoln, tell me you understand. Tell me we’re not going to have any more problems.”

“P-P-Portia?” he stutters like a fucking idiot.

I squeeze his cheeks and make him yelp pitifully. “You heard me!” I growl at him, digging my fingers into his skin. “If you even breathe the air she breathes, I will fucking slaughter you. Stay. Away. From. Her.”

“Ok-ok...ay. OKAY!”

“I’m going to be watching, Lincoln. I’m going to be keeping my eye on you to make sure you keep your word. Don’t let me catch you slipping.”

“OKAY, I SWEAR!”

I stand up, straightening the front of my suit jacket. “Good. Then you get to live. This time. Ice Pick, take him away. Dump him somewhere out of the city. No wallet, no phone, no keys, no nothing. Let him hitchhike his way back to Newport. Bonus lesson for him to learn for all he’s done.”

“Sì, Diavolo.”

Maurizio fists Lincoln Powell’s drenched locks and then dog walks him out of the room, leaving a trail of water in their wake. As they’re leaving the room, Adagio is re-entering with a smirk and arched brow, his blue eyes shining.

“I see it went well.”

“He’s lucky he’s still alive. I only spared him this time because Portia would be suspicious.”

Adagio chuckles. “Her ex-husband dying suddenly after you threaten him? Not suspicious at all.”

“I’m protecting her.”

“Yes, very romantic. Most women would swoon.”

I glare at him. “He scared Portia. He came into her apartment uninvited and was waiting for her to get home. He deserves this and so much more.”

“Say the word and Maurizio and I will help you chop him up,” he volunteers, grinning wide. “It’s what we’re here for.”

“Next time. If he ever slips up again, then he will die. No matter what Portia says.”

* * *

My decision to purchase Newport Metro News had nothing to do with profit. Some would call that a foolish business decision. They would claim no real businessman would purchase a media company for no other reason than a personal endeavor.

But as I sit in my new office at the station headquarters and watch Portia James strut by in her pencil skirt and heels, I beg to differ.

Worth every fucking penny.

I pluck the desk phone off its hook and dial an extension I already have memorized by heart. A few rings later, Portia’s answering her phone only moments after she’s made it back to her desk.

“Hello, Ms. James,” I say, grinning to myself. “How are you doing today?”

The breath she releases tells me a lot. It’s a soft little soughing sound torn between exasperation and amusement.

While my antics might frustrate her, there’s a growing part of her that enjoys these interactions.

“I’m doing well, Mr. Calderone,” she answers. “And yourself?”

“I’m good. But I’ll be even better once you make your way up to my office. I’d like to see you.”

“Reason being?”

“Work matters I’d like to discuss. I’ll be waiting for you.”