Page 16

Chapter Fifteen

Rafael

“We found the boat,” Vince’s disembodied voice floats through the speakerphone. I lean back in my chair, my fingers already massaging my temples in anticipation of a headache.

“And?”

“It’s docked at a private marina two hours north,” he answers. “The product is gone.”

“Motherfuckers,” I groan. “Any information on who’s behind this?”

“I’ve got Enzo trying to hack into Mancini’s phone right now, but nothing from our eyes on the street.”

“He’s covered his steps well if it’s him,” I say, reaching for the bourbon. It’s only nine a.m., but I pour a hefty shot and throw it back, slamming it on the table. I can practically feel Vince wince on the other side of the line.

“I’ll be in touch if we find something,” he finally says.

“And if we don’t? We just let him get away with this?” I scoff, rage coloring my voice.

That was a loaded boat, millions of dollars' worth of product gone.

“I don’t think it would be wise to get into an altercation if we’re not sure it’s his guys.”

“I agree, but I’m not going to sit by while Mancini slowly dismantles everything my father worked to build.”

“Maybe you can…” he hesitates. I sense where he’s going with this and fear wraps itself around my core. “I mean, you’ve got his secret weapon at your disposal.”

“The waitress doesn’t know shit,” I snap. He’s silent, probably judging me.

“Well,” he slowly says, “she might be all we have.”

I grunt my acknowledgment and end the call, stabbing my phone screen just a little too hard with my finger. I want to throw it actually, right out the window of my office.

The only reason I’m sitting here right now, drinking bourbon in the morning, is because I needed a break from Lux.

Lux and her shiny, cinnamon-smelling hair.

Lux and her addictive sunshine smile.

Lux and the way she makes me feel naked, even when I’m fully clothed.

I growl and launch my now empty glass against the opposite wall, determined to destroy something. Displeasure hums in my veins, radiating through my entire body. I don’t like that we have so little information.

In fact, I feel like I’m in the dark about a lot things happening around me right now. No one seems to have definite answers when it comes to my father’s death or the missing boat. One of my guys was killed in his apartment last night, and no one knows who did it.

What the fuck is going on?

I grab my phone and call Enzo. He answers mid-sentence.

“...but nothing really concrete yet.”

“You better find something concrete because I’m about to pull up to Mancini’s house swinging.”

“Boss,” he chuckles, “relax, will you? I’m not a damn magician. It takes more than five minutes to hack into someone’s personal devices.”

“Enzo,” I growl, ready to rip his head off, “you know why you live in such a nice fucking brownstone and drive a Porsche?”

“I know, I know,” he groans. I hear his fingers flying across a keyboard in the background. Good, move them or lose them .

These young guys have no sense of urgency. I only keep Enzo on the payroll because he’s the best tech guy in the business, but even I have my limits when I’m pissed off.

“Wait,” he says, and I hold my breath. Keys click furiously in the background. “I’m in.”

“Send me everything,” I tell him, finally breathing out. “Contact lists, messages, emails, whatever you can get your hands on…you’re getting a Christmas bonus.”

He snorts with laughter as my laptop starts pinging with incoming files. “I want a Lambo.”

“Shut up, Enzo,” I warn, hanging up the call. I’m practically salivating at all the information downloading on my screen. Before I dive into the nitty-gritty, there’s something I need to do.

I take a deep breath, knowing that what I find might change everything. I slowly pull up the search field and type in Lux Davis. My finger hovers over the search key as my heart picks up speed.

If I find something incriminating, I can finally end this game.

I press the button. My eyes widen as a list of messages and call logs flood my screen. I pore over the call logs—the call from Friday night, one from a few weeks ago, but nothing that suggests she was in constant contact with Mancini.

I flex my fingers and pull up the messages.

Hi Mr. Mancini, just wondering if we’re getting our tip-out on Saturday?

Hello, I’ll be 10 minutes late tonight. Sorry!

Hey Mr. Mancini, we need more Bacardi. Also, can you order those little maraschino cherries?

Lux, I need you for inventory on Sunday. Double-check the tequila this time.

And on and on it goes. Nothing incriminating.

I rub my eyes, shutting the laptop, and lean back in my chair. I just spent the last two hours reading absolutely innocent messages between a bartender and her employer.

Could Vince be wrong? Maybe she really didn’t do it. But if it wasn’t her, the only other suspects are my father’s closest associates.

My phone rings and I snatch it up. “What is it?”

“Are you at the office?” Vince asks, sounding the slightest bit more animated than usual.

“Yeah…”

“You might want to meet me at the docks,” he says, short of breath. I hear tussling in the background and something heavy crashes.

“Are you running right now?”

“Rafael, get your ass to the docks,” he repeats. “We have a problem.”

I stare at my phone in shock. The call disconnected. I’ve never heard Vince so stressed. I grab my jacket and strap my gun on underneath it, nearly sprinting to the elevator.

My body buzzes with anticipation and adrenaline as I race to the docks, dodging morning traffic. I try calling Vince back but get no answer. Enzo doesn’t pick up either. I have no idea who else is down there and don’t want to cause panic, so I go in blind.

When I pull up to the docks, I swing around into our private parking lot. My father’s warehouse—mine now—looms in front of me, dark and silent. The sun sits high in the sky, making the old metal structure shimmer like the water that surrounds it.

I step out of the car, keeping a low profile. Since I have no idea what I’m about to walk into, I stick to the shadows as much as I can.

I’m flattened against the back wall of the warehouse, peeking around the corner to assess the entrance when a huge arm grabs me.

I nearly shoot off Vince’s foot but stop myself in time.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I growl, glancing around us. There’s no one here from what I can see. He pulls me against the building, silencing me.

“We have intruders,” he says, his voice low. “They’re inside. They have four men keeping watching, but they’re crafty fuckers…positioned them on different boats so that the entrance looks clear.”

“And I almost walked out into that.”

“You couldn’t know,” he assures me, “I would have given you more information, but I wasn’t fully informed either.”

“How many of our guys are here?”

“We have ten of ours,” he answers, glancing down at his phone. “And Enzo just informed me there’s at least six of theirs inside, according to the cameras.”

“Who the hell would be ballsy enough to walk into my warehouse in broad daylight?”

Vince glances up at the sky skeptically. “It’s a good time as any if you’re confident enough.”

“Is it Mancini’s crew?” I wonder. Fuck, I spent all morning searching through Lux’s messages when I should have been focused on Mancini.

“Doubtful, but…”

A gunshot rings out, interrupting his words. We drop to the ground, unsure of where it came from. I hear a flurry of activity from the front and start army crawling to the side of the building. I can hear Vince grunting and moving after me.

I peek around the corner, keeping myself low as another shot rings out. A body flies off a nearby boat into the water. Someone runs out of the warehouse and they’re instantly shot down. I glance back at Vince, his phone glued to his ear.

“Al says two of the lookouts on the boats are down,” he relays back to me. “Give them a few seconds to get the other two before you go running in there.”

I roll my eyes but hang back, listening for more shots. More figures come running out of the warehouse. Three, four, five.

Fuck, they’re going to get away. I need at least one here and alive.

I slink around the corner, pressing my entire body against the metal siding, and aim my gun low. When the sixth man sprints out the doors, I shoot. He crashes to the ground, screaming and clutching his leg.

Perfect .

I look back, nodding at Vince. “Get that one, whoever the hell he is, and bring him to the basement.”

Vince nods, shoving his phone between his ear and his shoulder again. He pulls back around to the rear of the warehouse, dragging me with him. I keep watch, my eyes roving from side to side, my gun at the ready.

He finally gets the all-clear and motions for me to follow. My guys are gathered out front, five bodies in front of them. The guy I shot down sits tied up, bleeding from his thigh, just inside the doors.

“The lookouts?” I ask, walking between the bodies. I don’t recognize a single one of them, but that doesn’t mean much. They could be cheap hires for someone who doesn’t want to be known.

“We got them all,” Al says, walking over to me. “The live one won’t talk.”

He gestures to the guy inside the warehouse. I pat him on the back, chuckling darkly.

“He’ll talk to me,” I counter. “They all do. Throw him in the basement.”

***

Two hours and zero answers later, I’m frustrated as hell when I climb into my car and head home. I check my phone and see a message from Lux.

I have a little surprise for you. Will you be home before I leave for work?

I glance at the clock, it’s just a little after two. I quickly type out a message and pick up speed. Not even ten minutes later, I walk into my entryway to the most amazing smell.

“Lux?”

“In the kitchen!”

I head toward the smell and the promise of Lux like a bloodhound. When I round the corner, I stop dead in my tracks.

“Hi, Wolfie,” she grins at me. I take in her golden waves, rosy lips, and sparkling eyes. My gaze lowers to her bare shoulders, the curve of her hips, those long tan legs. She’s holding a spatula, doling roasted potatoes out onto two plates.

She meets my eyes, her grin growing at the shock and awe she must see in them.

“What?” she pouts, setting the pot down and walking over to me. “Were you joking about the nudist colony thing?”

Lux is naked in my kitchen. Lux cooked lunch naked in my kitchen. I nearly pass out.

She wraps her arms around my neck, pressing herself against me. I’m instantly hard, even after my frustrating shit day, my body jumps at her command.

“That’s incredibly dangerous,” I whisper into her hair, running my hands up and down her back. “You should have at least worn an apron.”

“Oh, I did!” she pulls away from me, skipping back to the kitchen island and grabbing a checkered apron. A laugh explodes out of me. She shoots me a cheesy grin, and I laugh harder, tears dripping from my eyes.

She’s like a pornographic Betty Crocker—what an image.

She convinces me to ditch my clothes and we take our seats at the dining room table. I have no idea where she got candles, but she lights them, winking at me.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Life,” she answers simply, popping a potato in her mouth.

Life . Ever since she’s come into mine, it’s been a whirlwind of adventures and laughter. I think about life before Lux—going to the gym, sitting at the office, coming home, lying awake all night. It was so cold, so empty.

I look across the table at her, happily eating potatoes and roasted chicken, naked. Something inside me, a little piece of my heart breaks. This isn’t real, I remind myself. She’s not really yours. There’s a time limit on this.

I stand up, pushing my empty plate aside, and round the table. She looks up me, smiling happily. I lean down, massaging her shoulders and kiss the top of her head.

“Thank you.”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” she says, reaching up to pat my arm. She doesn’t understand that I’m not talking about lunch, but I don’t explain. Instead, I pull her out of her chair and press her to my body. She tilts her head up automatically, her mouth searching for mine.

I back her up against the table, trapping her in a crushing kiss. Her nails scrape down my sides, shooting sparks through me.

“I need you,” I whisper into her neck, nipping it with my teeth. “I need you now.”

She moans, brushing her arm behind her to move the plates, but misses. I hoist her up on the table, swiping the dishes onto the floor. Glass and ceramics shatter around my feet but I don’t give a fuck.

“Dominic!” she gasps, her eyes widening. “You’re insane.”

I thread my fingers through her hair, pulling her face close to mine. Her forehead rests against mine, her eyes boring into mine. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

She gasps, falling back onto her elbows. She throws her head back, that golden hair swishing around her shoulders as she laughs at me. I pause for just a second, savoring the vision in front of me.

Electric blue eyes draw me in, pouty pink lips drive me wild, and perky rosy nipples call to me. She slowly spreads her legs, making me growl. Something inside me snaps and I drive myself into her. She gasps, surprised, but relaxes around me.

“You’re impatient today,” she groans as I pull out and thrust again.

“What did you expect,” I retort, “that I wouldn’t save room for dessert?”

She rolls her eyes, but can’t hide her pleased smile. I bask in that smile as I thrust deeper and harder, her hips meeting every movement.

The wooden table squeaks and scrapes like it’s about to turn into kindling. Glass litters the floor, cutting my feet, but I don’t even feel it.

All I can feel is her. The warmth of her. The scent of her. Her moans and whimpers fill the room, driving me wild, pushing me harder. All I want to do is to make her feel good.

“Luxy,” I moan, almost at my peak, “I…I think I …”

“Fuck,” she interrupts me, low and breathy. “I’m almost there.”

She thrashes on the table, her nails scratching the antique wood. I fall forward, driving myself deeper and deeper until she screams her release, and I follow. I slump on top of her, gasping for breath.

“That was…” she struggles to finish her sentence, and I lift myself off her, gazing down.

“Amazing?” I volunteer.

She laughs, tenderly stroking my cheekbone. “Yeah, that’s the one. I almost ascended into a different universe.”

And I almost fucking told you I love you.