“Oh, it’s there.” He leans his head back, his laughter rolling in every direction. “See,” he finally gathers himself and sits up straight, “when you have a boy, you only have to worry about one penis. When you have a girl, you have to worry about all the cocks running around town.”
“You’re insane.”
“And you are fucked.” He continues to laugh, and soon my frown turns into a smile and then a snicker. I mean, he’s not wrong. If I don’t want men to even breathe in my wife’s direction, I sure as shit won’t let any teenage boy with a hard-on close to my daughter.
I rub my fingers along my forehead. “I think the universe reckons I haven’t spilled enough blood yet and decided to give me more motivation.”
“I cannot wait to see your face the first time a boy knocks on this door.”
“I’m afraid you won’t get the honor to see my face that day because the little shit won’t get through the damn gates.”
“Oh, man,” Nicoli sighs. “I haven’t laughed this hard in ages.”
“I’m glad my life amuses you, brother.” I sit across from him and watch the jackass as he pulls his shit together, shaking the laughing fit. “On a different, more somber note.”
Nicoli smirks. “More somber than your life right now?”
“Here’s a thought. Go fuck yourself.”
“Okay, fine,” he throws his hands in the air, “let’s pull on our serious faces. What was that phone call about?”
Maximo stomps into my office, his cheeks red from the cold, snow stuck to his jacket. “We might have a potential problem?”
My eyes widen. “Potential problem?”
“A big-ass potential problem.”
His pointed look tells me exactly what, or rather who, this potential problem is.
Nicoli raises a brow. “What’s going on?”
Shit. I wipe a palm down my face. “I wasn’t planning on saying anything about this to anyone,” I say. “But since you’re here, I might as well.”
“What is it?”
“We’ve been trying to deal with a situation that’s a personal matter to me and not official Dark Sovereign business, hence why I wasn’t planning on including anyone else if not necessary.”
Nicoli motions with his arm, growing impatient. “Get on with it already.”
Maximo and I give each other a knowing look, and I shift in my seat. “Federico Dinali.”
“That’s Leandra’s dad. You told me about him. He’s in prison, right? Drugs. Child pornography. Grooming. Overall sick bastard.”
“And about to get parole.” The words burn like acid in my mouth.
“What?” Nicoli scowls. “Parole?”
“Yes,” I reply, rubbing my hand across the armrest, the leather smooth beneath my palm while my blood boils and melts my veins. “That’s the other reason I haven’t been around. I’ve been working with our lawyers to ensure that fucker doesn’t see the outside of that prison wall.”
“And you don’t want Leandra to find out,” Nicoli says.
I tap my fingers on the leather. “She can’t know.”
“We agree on that.” He leans with his elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands together. “Were you able to put a stop to his parole?”
“Not yet.” I look at Maximo. “What’s the potential problem we might have?”
He slips his hands in his jacket pockets, worry lines forming grooves on his forehead, and whenever Maximo worries, I get an ulcer.