Page 13 of Hidden Ties (Made Men #11)

ELEVEN

THE BOOGIEMAN AND HIS SLY MINION

“ C ome in, Ms. Monroe.”

Chills coated her body from just his voice alone, still sight unseen.

She had been given the pleasure of never having seen the man claimed as the Boogieman in her life, even though she had worked across the street from him for six months.

Now, only a door separated them, and she was called upon by name.

Having only “heard” of him was probably what scared her the most. She hoped putting a face to the name might humanize him, make him less frightening.

It was like the final boss fight in a video game; you feared getting to the end of the story and not being ready to battle them, but it turned out, most of the time, they looked ridiculous, and you had nothing to fear after all.

However, that wasn’t the case when Sal revealed what was behind the door.

It was a large office with tall windows showcasing the beauty of Kansas City from this vantage point.

An oversized wooden desk sat in the room, and behind it sat an impending man with eyes that complemented the city lights down below.

With one look, he gave you a good reason to fear him.

He sent any goose bumps she had into a frozen frost, so much so that Sal had to push her forward and into his office with a firm hand on her back, and then she was finally in the presence of the Boogieman and his sly minion.

“Hello, Ms. Monroe,” the Caruso boss greeted her coldly, only further giving her a reason to fear him.

The worst part about him, though? It was his looks.

Devilishly handsome. As a woman, it made you want to reach out and touch him to see if he was real, but your instincts fought every ounce of that, knowing who he truly was.

He was frightening and beautiful at the same time, making him hold up to the name of being the most dangerous man in all of Kansas City.

His blue-green eyes that were simply terrifying traveled down to the object in her hands. “Is there a reason you’re carrying a bat through my Casino Hotel?”

Nervously grasping it in both hands, she didn’t know how to tell him it was because she knew exactly who he was and the kind of establishment she was coming into.

“I see.” Lucca nodded, seeing the hidden answer. “Please, sit.”

It was hard not to obey what sounded like an order from him, so she slowly took one of the two chairs in front of his desk before he continued.

“You are aware of who I am, then?”

Valerie nodded, both of them knowing it wasn’t just his surname he was insinuating.

“Well, it was either very brave of you to bring in a weapon … or stupid.”

Unfortunately, she agreed, and hearing the word brave finally made her enough so to speak.

“I suppose so.”

Leaning back in his chair, he studied her for a moment. “Something tells me you are not stupid, Ms. Monroe.”

“Valerie,” she offered. “You can call me Valerie. I think bailing me out for two million dollars gives you that right.”

A smile tilted his lips for a mere second, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. She much preferred him without the deadly smile. It somehow made him even better-looking, and that wasn’t something she wanted to think.

“I suppose it should,” he agreed before picking up a pack of cigarettes and lifting them. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” She waved her hand slightly, hoping he’d blow the nicotine in her direction to calm her nerves.

When he lit the glorious end up, she contemplated asking the Boogieman for one herself.

Relaxing into his chair from the first hit, he got back to her earlier point. “Do you know why I bailed you out?”

“Trust me, Mr. Carus—”

“Lucca,” he offered back with a puff of smoke. “I think we’re both entitled to a first-name basis.”

“All right.” She cleared her throat, starting again, “Trust me, Lucca ; I wouldn’t have come here to find out if I did.” Again, it was another thing she didn’t like. Using his first name. It humanized him.

He tapped some ashes off his cigarette into a crystal ash tray. “I understand you worked for the Horseshoe?”

“That’s correct.”

“Well, despite the claims being made against you by your previous employer, Sal claims you to be innocent.”

Her head suddenly snapped back to look at Sal over her shoulder, to see him standing in the far corner of the room. She had almost forgotten about him—he had been so quiet.

“Is that so?” she gritted out, giving him a dirty look.

“Frankly, Valerie—”

Her name out of the Boogieman’s mouth sent another set of frost across her skin as she turned back to face him.

“I couldn’t care less if you were the one who cyber attacked the Horseshoe, but if you did, I need to know now so we know how to proceed. Mr. Bryant is a great attorney, and I’m sure he’s more than—”

“Oh, I’m innocent.” She decided to save him the time of explaining. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“That’s good, then.” Lucca fully believed her, taking another puff of his cigarette and blowing out the smoke, filling the room. “Do you know who possibly did and why they would want to frame you?”

She slumped her shoulders. It was the question she’d had on her brain since the moment the cuffs had been slid around her wrists. “I have no idea.”

“All right, then. Tell us everything you talked about with the lawyer, as well as anything that stuck out to you while working there.”

Valerie was detailed, replaying everything she’d said to Kent, as well as her time working at the Horseshoe, including the date she’d started and the date she’d been fired, along with everything in between.

All the while, Lucca smoked cigarette after cigarette until it was Sal who sat in the chair as she went from pacing to touching things in the office, finally inching closer and closer to Lucca’s desk.

“Do you mind blowing the smoke in this direction?” she asked, waving the nicotine goodness toward her.

That was when Lucca respectively put his cigarette out. “I think we’ve heard enough for now. Thank you, Valerie.”

“No problem at all,” she assured him and let her inner thoughts take over by going for the pack of cigarettes on his desk, but a cold hand came out to stop her.

“You may take your seat again.”

Snatching her hand back in shock, she took the chair next to a smirking Sal, feeling awkward. After getting lost in the details, and her cravings , she had become comfortable enough to forget whose presence she was in.

Letting her speak uninterrupted for quite some time, the mob boss now began his questioning.

“Have you been able to find employment yet?”

She cleared her throat. “Not yet. But I’ve been lookin—”

“Don’t bother,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Sal will find a position for you here at the Casino Hotel.” He looked over at him. “Won’t you?”

Sal quickly sat up straight. “S-Sure.”

“And since I have such a sizable investment placed on you, Valerie”—Lucca glanced between the both of them—“I hope you don’t mind that Sal will follow your every move to ensure you are where you need to be?”

Both Valerie and Sal stood up from their chairs and spoke in loud unison, “ What ?”

“Do you mind giving us a minute?” Lucca asked, looking at just her.

“Sure,” Valerie said with a grumble, moving toward the door. She went for her bat that she had set beside the door during her speech, but he stopped her with a hand held up.

“That’s far enough,” he said, crossing around the desk so he and Sal could speak in hushed tones.

“I’ll wait, then.” She turned her back to them; it was only then that she felt safe enough to roll her eyes in front of Lucca.

In a desperate attempt to listen to them, she strained her ears. She could almost believe they sounded like brothers … bickering.

“I’m not fucking babysitting her crazy ass any longer!” Sal began in an aggressively hushed tone. “Give her over to Amo. I’m sure he’d love this psycho.”

Lucca sat on the edge of his desk with a shit-eating grin. “Nah, I don’t think so. It’s your turn to do some grunt work for a change.”

“No. No. No fucking way. I didn’t learn to use my brain and sit behind a computer all day to do this. I did it to avoid instances like this.”

“And that’s why you’re perfect for this job, brother,” Lucca said, hitting his shoulder.

“Who else in the family is capable to help her figure out who attacked the Horseshoe? Do you really think Amo, or anyone else for that matter, is going to be able to do that? I doubt my other men know the difference between a monitor and a computer.”

“Well, see, you do,” Sal huffed, hoping he might still be able to get out of this death sentence.

“Well, I’m not a fucking idiot,” Lucca told him. “My other men are useful for other things, but using their brains isn’t one. Why do you think I have yet to pick an underboss?”

Fuck! Lucca was right, and he knew it. It was a position Sal probably would have had, if the job he already did for Lucca wasn’t so important.

His friend would eventually find an underboss who could handle the job in a few years, but replacing Sal would be impossible.

Lucca already bent the family rules for his sister Maria to be his consigliere—that’s how little options he had currently in the family.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“So, you’ll do it, then …?”

Sal ran a rough hand through his hair. “I mean, are you asking or telling me, Lucca?”

Lucca gave him a sympathetic look. “I told you long ago I’d never ask you to do anything for me you didn’t want to do, and I meant it.

We’re brothers. Our bond is stronger than my brothers whom I share blood with, and you know I haven’t even given Nero a promise like that.

In fact, I purposefully give him the shitty jobs.

Plus, are you really going to let an innocent woman go down for this? ”

Ugh . Sal hated when Lucca pulled that card, even though he was truthful in the fact he wouldn’t make him do anything he didn’t want. But how was he supposed to say no after a speech like that?

“Fine, I’ll do it,” he finally agreed while making one thing clear. However, it was uncertain if he was making it clear to Lucca or himself. “But only for you, not for her.”

“Damn.” He couldn’t believe the savage statement. “You don’t care if she ends up in prison? That’s harsh for you.”

“Nope.” Sal shook his head violently. “I have practically dreamed of her going to prison every single night I spent in my home.”

“Really?” Surprised at his deep distaste for her, Lucca peered over at the woman in question. “Did you look her up and find something?”

Even though he hated to admit it … “No, she’s clean.

Her search history is boringly PG, unlike the video games she plays.

The only things against her are some parking and speeding tickets.

She’s also behind a couple of months on her mortgage payments and bills, but I’m sure she is considering she was recently fired, not like we care about that stuff, anyway. ”

“So, what’s the issue?” Lucca asked, looking back at him. “I’ve only seen you act like this if you know they’ve done something rancid.”

It was scary to wield the power to know about a person’s full digital Internet history.

It was like being able to read people’s minds or know a person’s deepest, darkest secret.

It regretfully made you weary of people and have an aversion to humans.

Eventually, he had to quit looking so deeply into any woman he came into contact with who he found attractive; otherwise, he would never ever get laid.

“You really have to ask?” he said, looking back at her with her bat back in her hand.

Lucca’s voice went even lower as he stared at the girl in concern. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She plays video games too much.”

“Ah …” He nodded, getting it now. It was clear that was all Lucca needed to hear to understand her.

“Yeah, so, imagine living next door to that!” Sal quipped, losing his cool.

“Shh …” Lucca reminded him with a laugh. “So, she’s eccentric . So, what?”

“If by eccentric you mean certifiable , sure.”

“Do yourself a favor and look around here. We’re all certifiable, Sal,” Lucca told him, knowing it was the truth.

Every made man was a psychotic individual, held on by a tight leash that the craziest one of all controlled.

They were only one bad day away from Lucca Caruso and the whole family crashing down.

Smiling, his boss and friend looked over at her once more, and Sal really didn’t like the look of his shit-eating grin.

“Something tells me she’ll fit right in.”

“It’s settled,” Lucca spoke up again to finally include her in the no-longer-private conversation. “You’ll stay with Sal at his place here in the Casino Hotel until further notice.”

What?

“Listen, I, uh … really don’t think that’s a good idea.” She crossed the room closer to him. At this point, she thought she preferred prison rather than living with Salvatore.

However, Lucca’s patience had finally been worn thin. “And I really don’t car—”

“But isn’t he married?”

“Excuse me?” Lucca asked her in disbelief while Sal put his face in his palm.

“Isn’t Sal married?” she asked again, more clearly. “I just really don’t think it would be appropriate if I stayed with him. I promise not to run or anything. Maybe you have an extra room I could use here—”

Lucca held up his hand, silencing her. “I can assure you, Valerie, Sal is not married.”

“Oh.” Valerie didn’t know why a part of her felt happy at that fact, but there was the question of … “Well, maybe he has a girlfriend?”

Another smile touched Lucca’s lips, this time lingering longer. “That, I do not keep track of, but you will still be under his supervision and staying with him.”

When she went to protest again, it was Sal who stopped her from arguing by nudging her along.

Knowing she had pressed her luck too far on that subject, she still dared to ask a different question. “Can I at least keep my bat?”

Lucca’s deadly smile continued as he looked over at Sal and said, “Be my guest.”

Wow. This might be better than prison after all—

“Oh, and, Valerie,” Lucca said, stopping them before they left, “you have my full permission to use it on any of my men that you see fit.”

Way better than prison.

But before the door could close, he finally spared one of his men.

“Anyone but Sal.”

Damn, you can’t win ’em all.