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I’d made them an offer they couldn’t refuse. Not only would their daughter be taken care of financially, but they’d have even more protection by being part of the family. Oh, and of course, a big payout would come their way too.

So, the question remained: what the fuck was taking so long?

“Lorenzo,” the woman moaned, and I snarled. I hated when they used my name.

“Shut up,” I ground out, thrusting a couple more times before finishing inside the condom I always wore. There was no way in hell there were going to be any accidents on my watch. My dad had schooled me on that from the time I’d turned ten. Always have protection: a condom and a gun. It was two things I lived by, and neither had ever failed me.

I yanked myself out of her, pulled the condom off, then tied it at the end. “You can go,” I told her, staring down at her naked ass. She didn’t make a move, staying in the same position over the arm of the sofa in my bedroom.

Closing my eyes, I took a breath. I didn’t have time for this today. I had business to attend to and a thumping behind my eyes that promised an unbearable headache. By the time I’d opened up my eyes and zipped up my slacks, she was standing.

Veev was one of my favorites, had been since I was twenty-two, and I was sure she thought she could get away with things the other women couldn’t. Sometimes I let her think that because it was easier, but I knew things would have to change once I was a married man. I’d have to be more discreet—or maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe continuing like this would be best. At least that way, my future wife wouldn’t get any ideas.

I snorted at the thought and spun on my heels. How much longer was I going to have to wait for an answer? I had eight days left—eight goddamn days.

“Want me to stay for a while?” Veev asked.

“I’ve got work to do,” I grunted, throwing the condom in the trash, then washing my hands. The bathroom attached to my bedroom had been refitted recently. In fact, my whole bedroom had. It was the same room I’d slept in every night as a kid, but now it was twice the size with brand-new furniture. Ma said that Dad had commissioned it to be redone a year ago, yet no one else knew about it.

It made me wonder if he knew he wouldn’t be around much longer. In fact, the more I looked into things within the business, the more I knew that was true. He’d put clauses in contracts for when he was gone. He’d transferred money to offshore accounts. He’d detailed the inner workings that no one else knew about in a ledger kept in his safe that only he had the combination to. The only reason I’d gotten inside of it was because of a letter one of his lawyers had hand-delivered.

It all seemed too…smooth.

I splashed my face with some water and stared at myself in the mirror, trying to make sense of everything going on. It was too much to think about all at once. I had to focus on what was right in front of me.

I wasn’t boss yet. I had two things to complete before I could be, and that was all I needed to worry about at the moment.

Veev’s footsteps came closer to the bathroom. “We could take a shower together,” she said, her voice deceptively soft.

“No.” I swiped a towel over my face and sidestepped her. “You can shower.” I paused in the doorway, staring at her naked body. She wasn’t as curvy as Aida was, and she

was taller by at least a foot. This was my usual type, yet Aida had intrigued me. She’d wormed her way inside my mind without even realizing it. My nostrils flared, and I spun around, not wanting to look at Veev any longer. “Then you can leave.”

I didn’t wait to hear what else she had to say, so I grabbed my jacket and headed straight out of my bedroom door, where Mateo, one of the soldiers, waited patiently. “Make sure she’s gone within thirty minutes,” I demanded. He nodded in response and shuffled closer to the door.

I walked past the stairs that led into the main foyer and headed toward the secret door at the end of the hallway. Only a handful of people knew the door existed—a secret passage built for extra security.

Voices from downstairs drifted up to me as I pulled it open, but I didn’t take any notice of them. There was always something going on in the house, especially with both my brother and sister still living here. To add to that, other family members seemed to be hanging around, checking on Ma after Dad’s passing. I knew they were trying to help, but she hated being fussed over. She hated being the center of attention.

The stairs were illuminated by two sconces attached to the wall, giving off just enough light so you could see. It turned, winding down two levels. On the lower level was the basement, where we kept anything we didn’t want to be found. It had always been locked up tight, but now that Dad was gone, I was the only one who could get in there, and I intended to keep it that way. It was the first level’s door that I headed toward, the one that led into my dad’s office—no, it was my office now. I shook my head as I stepped into the room, not sure I’d ever get used to it. Not a single item in there had been touched. A new boss hadn’t been officially appointed yet, and until then, everything had to stay the same, which was why I hardly came in here.

The click of the door shutting sounded like a bomb exploding in the otherwise silent office. Each wall had been soundproofed, and I wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not. Dad said he needed the quiet to work, but I knew it was so that he could do anything inside this room and not be heard.

I kept my back to the wall, staring at the furniture, unable to imagine what it would be like when it was all removed. How was I meant to make this space my own when my dad’s ghost haunted it? I stared at the decanter of whisky and stepped toward it, needing the burn of alcohol to tamp down all of my thoughts. But I’d only made it halfway there when the office door that led into the main part of the house flung open.

“What the fuck—"

“Language,” a deep, Italian-accented voice said. “Is that any way to talk to your uncle?”

I blinked, keeping my expression neutral as I stared at my uncle Paolo—my dad’s brother. “Uncle,” I greeted, pushing my hands into the pockets of my slacks and trying not to act surprised at seeing him. It was a move I knew he noticed as his gaze flicked down, then back up to my face. “What are you doing here?” What I really wanted to ask was why he was here now and not weeks ago. He’d missed his own brother’s funeral, so why was he here, barging into what would be my office.

He tilted his head, his inky black hair moving as he did, and sauntered toward the desk. “I came to see my family.” He tsked as if me asking was a stupid question, but both he and I knew it wasn’t. I hadn’t seen him since I was a little boy, and even then, my dad had kept us as far apart as he could. “Such sad news about my brother.” He pushed aside some papers on the desk, trying to read them. “And now you’re left with no leadership.”

I narrowed my eyes on him, taking in his wrinkled, tan face and his pristine gray suit. He’d dressed for business. “We have leadership.” I stepped toward the desk, clenching my hands in my pockets.

“Do you?” He raised a brow, staring at me like I was an annoying fly buzzing around him. “Who?”

“Me.”


Tags: Abigail Davies Unseen Underground Dark