Series: Penny Dee
Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
The place where my heart is supposed to be fractures. Only because I try my hardest to keep it out of every equation, but when it comes to my family, it turns into a fragile, dangerous thing. Because all it pumps for is bloodlust, often the only way to get results. I need to find them closure.
“You need sleep too,” she gently pushes. My niece, Alexis, screams, giddy on too much sugar as she runs over, trying to get away from Lotti. She runs into Valen’s arms.
“Make me taller, Uncle Valen!” she demands.
“Well, we can’t let Lotti take you,” he muses as he throws her up onto his shoulder. My sister’s soft, pained expression is gone in the blink of an eye as she watches her daughter.
I’m failing them and only leaving them with loose ends. It just won’t do.
I stand as my sister looks at me confused, until she sees my expression. I lean in and kiss her on the cheek before I walk out. She doesn’t ask me where I’m going because she more than likely won’t get an answer. But she understands that as well. To protect my family, I tell them only what they need to know. The rest I take care of.
The first thing I notice is the unusually large number of cars in her parking lot. But I do spot hers, the black one, which is obviously her favorite color. I also recognize the other cars. The Hayes crew. Stepping out of my car, I walk to the front door. The lights are on, but from the outside, you can’t see in clearly. Pulling the door open, all sets of eyes fall on me. I recognize each face. But the one I focus on is the leader, Cian, who is currently leaning over the counter and talking to Leonore, who’s body is locked straight, as if she is trying to keep her composure. He pulls back when he sees me, a subtle moment of surprise, before he straightens and turns his body to me and nods his head.
“Vescari, didn’t expect to see you here.” Glancing back at Leonore, I see her eyes on me as well—begrudging, of course.
“We have a meeting,” I inform her. Her mouth opens, then snaps closed, as if she realizes whatever smart-ass thing that is about to leave her mouth is a bad idea.
“We were just leaving,” Cian says, and looks back at Leonore. He pulls out an envelope full of cash and slides it to her. She opens her drawer and puts it straight in. I watch as he eyes the drawer she slid it into. “Until next time, Grim.” He turns, and his men follow him closely as he comes to a stop beside me.
“Word on the street is you’re plucking members of the Nero crew off,” he says matter-of-factly.
My glare cuts to him. “People talk too much.”
He casually shrugs. “I just want to make sure that whatever business you’re dealing in doesn’t impact me or my crew.”
“Only if I need to, Cian. As long as your men have stayed in line. If not, our next meeting won’t be so friendly.”
He sneers but doesn’t say anything further. Cian is a man of many words, and most respect what he says, because he lives by them. The Hayes deal in drugs and pleasure. They own almost all the clubs and bars in town, pumping their drugs through the city.
Cian enjoys his high life and is very careful not to step on toes. So far. Doesn’t mean mistakes don’t happen, and in the way I glare at him, he seems to understand my silent thoughts.
Cian gives me a simple nod, and then it’s just us.
Me and the Grim. Round two for today.
“We did not have a meeting,” she finally says.
“Remove your hand from the gun, Grim,” I tell her, to which she smirks. She fucking smirks.
This woman likes playing with fire, or perhaps we’re cut from the same cloth.
She’s efficient, and I can tell right now what’s going through her mind. If she gets rid of me, I won’t be a problem any longer.
So I match her insincere, devilish smile.
9
LEONORE
“And what if I choose not to remove my hand?” I dare. He takes a step closer, not even caring that my hand is on a gun. How he knew that is beyond me.
“The last person who pointed a gun at me is dead,” he informs me.
“Do you plan to kill me, Mr. Vescari?” I ask, sickly sweet. “Because if you do, here would be the perfect place to do so.” I wink, and when I do, he opens the side counter, which leads him back to where I am. He takes a few steps so he’s standing next to me, then his calloused hand reaches under the counter to where mine is and covers it. He smells of citrus and wood, light, controlled, and intentional. The scent of a man who probably never had to raise his voice because they fear him just for his presence alone. When the heat of his hand wraps around mine, I pull my hand away, and his stays under. He pulls my gun out, his dark eyes trained on me.