Page 7 of Precious Hazard (Perfectly Imperfect #11)

Yesterday, though, Stavros took me out to dinner at an exclusive restaurant.

Before our appetizers even arrived, he was prattling on about his big dream in life: to find a perfect woman, one who is a match for him in every way, so she could bear him a bunch of perfect little babies who would inherit his spectacular genes.

Excuse me, but the world has enough idiots.

I made my apologies, saying I needed to use the facilities, and then took my ass as far away from the imbecile as I could.

Okay, so I didn’t technically “break up” with him, but I think my message was loud and clear.

Besides, that’s my usual MO. I run away a lot.

Mostly from myself.

Too bad I can’t seem to escape Arturo DeVille’s stare.

Because his eyes are STILL BURNING HOLES THROUGH MY BACK!

Half an hour later, with closing time swiftly approaching and the crowd starting to dissipate, I tell Jelena that I’m taking off and slip away into the staff room.

After grabbing my purse and jacket out of my locker, I leave Naos through the kitchen door, desperately trying to avoid a certain someone and his scorching gaze.

Leaning on the side of the building, with the dumpster shielding me from the view of anyone who might come out into the alley after me, I relax my shoulders for what feels like the first time in hours. “Finally.”

It’s still the dead of night, but as they say, New York never sleeps. The chilly air rejuvenates my tired senses, and breathing becomes much easier without the constant pressure of so many eyes on me.

Especially a particular pair of dark-brown irises searing through my last nerve tonight.

I straighten out, ready to head to my car, just as a wave of profound loss sweeps over me, and for the teeniest instance, I miss that smoldering heat.

“Definitely stupid,” I mumble, then make my way to the parking lot. Leave it to me to forget my key fob at home today and not be able to get into the underground garage at Naos.

I slide into the back seat and slam the door shut. Damn that woman!

“Mr. DeVille?” Riggo glances at me from the driver’s seat of the fully decked-out BMW stretch sedan I’ve decided to use since I can’t drive my Land Rover. “Did you have fun? Any good-looking chicks in there?”

“Hardly.”

“What? But I noticed at least a dozen, maybe two, going in while I waited. Including a blonde who was wearing the shortest dress ever, and she had the sweetest laugh. Did you see her?”

Not a chance. All night, my focus was solely on the tiny brunette in her cute little apron, smacking people around with her notepad. And the worst part? I was inconceivably enthralled.

“Just start the car.”

“Absolutely, Mr. DeVille. On it. Oh, Nino called. He’s been trying to reach you, but your phone is turned off?”

I pull my cell out of my pocket. The battery is dead. Fucking perfect. “What did he want?”

“He mentioned that there’s an issue at the Brooklyn site. He’s waiting for you at the location.”

“It’s two in the fucking morning,” I sigh, squeezing the bridge of my nose. “Alright. Step on it.”

Our newest construction property is half an hour away, and I spend the entire drive wondering how Tara Popov managed to slip from my sight at Naos.

Considering the ongoing tension between me and Drago, cornering his sister in front of his people after she stormed away from me was out of the question, so I kept my distance, waiting until the time was right.

My gaze, however, followed her for the remainder of the night as she ran around serving a rowdy bunch of bikers I never imagined I would see at Drago’s upscale club.

What the fuck was that all about? Drago has been as erratic as his sister with some of his business choices lately.

One of those choices resulted in a bullet lodged in his chest. If it wasn’t for Cosa Nostra, the man would be six feet under instead of a constant irritation in my life.

But, maybe I could use his continued breathing as leverage, get him to agree to let this marriage between me and his sister proceed just as Ajello has planned.

Maybe. I truly never know what to expect when dealing with this Serbian lot.

Case in point… His sister. Any sensible woman would understand that matrimony will strengthen the ties between our organizations.

And a sane woman would never even have considered outright rejecting the directive of the Cosa Nostra don.

The ramifications of such an action could only spell doom for her and her family.

Despite Popov’s gang being sizable enough, it’s no match for the New York Family.

In a direct confrontation, we’d wipe them out.

Tara Popov surely must know that. Ignoring such a threat only confirms what I already knew. She’s clearly certifiable.

The file on her that Nino provided me didn’t have a lot.

Seems she’s only been classified as “mid-level important” over the past four years, since Ajello decided she’s worth keeping an eye on.

Nino was able to gather some basic info about the schools she attended, her employment history, and a bit about her personal life.

It appears that during her freshman year, she was expelled from her initial high school, but she managed to graduate from another with only a suspension on record.

“Illustrious” post-secondary years followed after that.

Tara’s journey to higher education took her through three different colleges before she dropped out, without ever completing her liberal arts degree.

Then came a stint of short-lived odd jobs that got her nowhere, at which point her brother must have stepped in.

Since that time, she’s been working for him, and although she spent a few years as some kind of admin for his precious gems operation, it seems that also didn’t go well for her, since now she’s serving tables in his club.

That only proves it… Tara Popov is irresponsible, uncommitted, and obviously a foolish person.

One I’m expected to spend a lifetime with. Jesus fucking Christ.

While her professional path is less than impressive, the woman certainly made sure her love life has been eventful enough.

Although lacking full details, Nino’s file included a list of the names, and at times occupations, of men that Tara has been linked to romantically.

That list reached double digits, but her relationships never lasted longer than two months.

If that alone wasn’t enough to illustrate her poor life choices, the fact that her most recent boyfriend is noted to be Stavros Katrakis, the stupid as fuck son of the man currently leading the Greek Syndicate, takes the cake.

“We’re here, Mr. DeVille,” Riggo says as he stops next to Nino’s SUV, twenty feet from a dilapidated building that we’ll be demolishing starting tomorrow. Fuck. Later today .

Illuminated by an industrial LED spotlight mounted along the roofline at the corner of that same structure, three men appear to be engaged in a heated discussion, their raised voices carrying all the way to me. A car I don’t recognize is parked close by.

Not knowing what I’m getting into here, I pull my gun out of the holster beneath my jacket and slip it into my waistband at my back. Easy access.

“Have your weapon ready, just in case,” I tell Riggo, then exit the car and head toward the group.

Nino is on the right, and the other two men are facing him. The shorter one is in the middle of a tirade, gesturing with his hand as he continues to press whatever it is he’s pissed about. His back is turned to me, so I have no clue about the trespasser’s identity as I draw nearer.

“… and I demand that you halt all work until this issue is resolved!” the man yells in a slightly accented voice.

Nino notices me approaching and relief briefly flashes across his resigned face.

In matters of security, Nino’s skills are top-notch.

But his patience for dealing with people’s bullshit is practically nonexistent.

Which is why I know that despite outward appearances, Nino has had just about enough.

He hardly ever gets involved in our business matters because his trigger finger is all too tempted to resolve every confrontation.

“You need to discuss this with Arturo.” Nino nods in my direction. His even-keeled delivery tells me the situation is hardly expected to escalate. Unless he’s made to continue this conversation.

The frustrated guy turns around. My forehead furrows the moment I recognize him.

What are the odds? Tobias Katrakis. What the fuck is the Greeks’ top man doing on our property?

Aside from a small drug deal between us six months ago, Cosa Nostra hasn’t done any business with the Syndicate.

Their group is mostly involved in loan-sharking and running dodgy self-storage complexes around the tristate area.

A lucrative business for them, but peanuts compared to what we’re into.

Typically, our interests do not intersect.

“Katrakis.” I come to stand beside Nino. “What seems to be the problem?”

“This.” He motions with his hand, indicating everything around us. “This land is mine, and you must stop what you’re doing immediately. There’s been a big mistake and it needs to be resolved.”

“There’s nothing to resolve. We bought this lot months ago. I signed the contract of sale myself. The paperwork was clear; there were no other claims on the property. I also didn’t see the Katrakis name anywhere on the real estate purchase agreement.”

“Yes, well… The ownership was temporarily transferred from us to another firm for reasons I’m not willing to disclose to you. And therefore, this property should never have been put up for sale in the first place. I want to buy it back.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” I motion with my head toward the exit gate. “Now leave.”

“I have many connections in this city, DeVille. Many important people come to me when they need funding, and sometimes, in return, I accept the fulfillment of a favor instead of money. Several of my debtors have dealings with Cosa Nostra.”

I narrow my eyes at the slimy little asshole and take an aggressive step toward him.

There’s virtually no way he can’t see just how much his words have pissed me off.

“Are you fucking threatening me? Please, say you are so I can make my shitty day just a tiny bit better by snapping your miserable neck.”

Katrakis’s bodyguard draws his gun, but Nino gets ahold of the dickwipe’s wrist and twists the man’s arm.

A gunshot pierces the air, and the bullet ends up somewhere in the dark.

It’s immediately followed by a pained grunt when Nino throws the bodyguard to the ground and shoves his knee between the useless piece of shit’s shoulder blades.

Before the guy even realizes what just happened to him, the barrel of Nino’s Desert Eagle kisses the back of his head.

Katrakis’s attention bounces between his incapacitated man and me. I haven’t even bothered to pull my own weapon. A single punch to his ugly mug would send him straight to la-la land.

“Get the fuck off my site, Katrakis!” I bark.

The bastard gives me a curt nod and heads toward his car. Nino releases the worthless guard, and the man trudges after his employer while Nino keeps him in his sight. Then, we both wait until their taillights disappear through the gate.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the cool head?” Nino grumbles while we make our way to our respective vehicles. “You know the Greeks have their claws in the city’s administration.”

“It’s almost three a.m., Nino. I’m fucking tired, hungry, and more than a little pissed off.”

“Mm-hmm. I take it the meeting with Drago’s sister didn’t go as planned?”

“No, it didn’t.”

“So you figured you’d vent some steam by dragging us into a dick-measuring contest with the Greek?”

“I didn’t drag us into anything. Katrakis and his goon showed up uninvited on our land. But yeah, I guess you’re right. I could have handled that better,” I admit. “See if you can dig up who’s behind the offshore company that sold us this lot.”

“I’ll try.”

“While you’re at it, locate Katrakis’s boneheaded son for me.

His father might not be open to sharing how the land he had no intention of selling ended up on the auction block, but I bet that idiot put it up as collateral in one of his dumb schemes.

Which means, whoever sold the deed has put us in this fucked-up position and they’ll need to be dealt with. ”

“Sure. You know Stavros been seeing your future wife?”

I scoff. “Yeah, I read the file. She’ll have to end that immediately. Or I’ll end it for her.”

“Be careful. Katrakis might be a small fish, but he’s got teeth. The Syndicate is resourceful. We don’t want any entanglements with them. At least, no more than we’ve already gained, apparently.” He gives me a slight shove with his elbow. “So, how is she anyway? Popov’s sister?”

“Stubborn, reckless, and absolutely unreasonable.”

“But beautiful, yes? I’ve only seen her from afar, but”—he whistles—“she’s a babe. I wouldn’t mind doing her if you two don’t end—”

My fist flies as if of its own accord, slamming right into Nino’s face.

“What the fuck, man?” he groans, pressing his hand over his busted lip.

“Watch your damn mouth,” I growl, then take off at a clipped pace toward my car.

Yeah… What the fuck was that?