Her glare falls onto me, and realizing that I'm not about to leave, she focuses back on her Wolfy lover. “Excuse me?” she demands. “No one dismisses me like that. Do you have any idea who I am? That bitch put me through hell. She cost me my son and humiliated me in front of the Bellevue Springs elite. I’m not leaving until she’s dealt with. You promised that she would be dealt with.”
“And she was, but let’s face it, Laurelle, you came here to fuck and for nothing else,” he snaps back at her, “I happily obliged, but now it’s time for business.” He glances back at me with curiosity in his eyes while waving his hand toward Laurelle. “I trust you can find your own way out.”
Laurelle sucks in a deep breath and slams her hand down on his desk, making me jump while he doesn’t even flinch. “I said that I wanted her dealt with. I haven't been coming here every week for the past four months and sucking your dick for nothing. Finish this.”
Russo stands and grabs Laurelle by the throat. He shoves her up against the wall and leans into her, easily overpowering her and reminding her just how replaceable she is. I’m sure a guy like Russo would have a line of women waiting to have their turn with him, hoping he could offer them and their families some kind of protection from the outside world.
“You seem to forget who you’re talking to,” Russo growls. “I’ve put up with your bullshit for months now. If I knew you were going to be such a demanding little whore, I would have used one of those prissy daughters of yours instead. I wanted Ocean, and now I’ve got her. You’re done here. There’s nothing else for you.”
Her eyes flick to mine, and I see the panic deep within them, knowing that Russo isn’t above snapping her neck like a twig, but it’s not my place. She cuts her gaze back to Russo and knowing my eyes are on her, she decides to play brave. “You said I’d get paid.”
“You were paid, baby,” he says, leaning into her and rubbing his groin against her hip. “If you wanted cash, you should have specified. My time and dick don’t come free.”
She stares at him a minute longer, clenching her jaw until he finally releases his hold on her. She sags once his tight grip is removed from her neck and with no other choice, she runs for the door, not sparing me another glance.
I stare at the empty doorway in shock. Did that really just happen?
Russo drops back into his desk chair. “Ocean,” he says welcomingly, as though a scorned woman didn’t just run out of here after having her neck just moments from being snapped. “Lovely to see you so soon. You seem to be healing well.”
“I, umm … yeah.”
“What can I do for you?”
I stare at him, unable to recall the reasons that brought me to his office as I'm still far too caught up on everything I’d just learned. “You put her in my life?” I say, completely baffled by the connection. I mean, how did they even meet in the first place?
Russo’s brows furrow, confused about why I feel the importance to ask. “Yes,” he states. “I thought that much was clear. I told you that I had people watching you.”
“Yeah, but I figured you just meant your men, not those kinds of people. Who else is on your payroll that’s been hiding in plain sight, pretending to be someone they’re not?”
He shakes his head, deep in thought. “That’s a very broad question,” he says. “I’m not about to go telling you all of my secrets, but I guess now that you’re one of mine, there’s no harm in sharing the names of those who have immediate access to you.”
“Names? As in plural? How many people do you have watching me?”
“There have been plenty. I’ve had eyes on you since the second your father was murdered. But let’s see, in more recent months, Robert Rinaldi and the coach at that ridiculous school … what was his name?”
My eyes widen. “Coach Sylvester?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. He’s been on my payroll for years. It was a real hassle when you had him fired. That cost me a bit of money having him bailed out. That idiot just had to go and incriminate himself. I should have left him rotting in that cell. He’s only ever caused me trouble, just like you seem to be doing. I had to go and get Dean Simmon’s onside after that.”
I gape at him. “Go back. Robert Rinaldi? As in Milo’s father?”
Russo shrugs a shoulder. “I believe so. I can’t say that I’m particularly familiar with the names of his offspring.”
“Wait … just wait,” I say as dread sinks heavily into my stomach. “Are you telling me that Milo was put in my life? Does he know about this?”