Page 8 of Power & Punishment

The man is my brother, and I can’t help but feel confused as I watch what appears to be a handshake between two old friends.

But I know better.

Leo holds Dante’s hand for a beat too long, and I notice the way my brother’s shoulders tense up like he’s scared or angry.

It’s hard to say.

When they finally turn to walk toward the group of people gathering to mourn Vince, I take out my phone and call Keith.

“Hey, I’m on my way into the office, but can you get a background check started for me? I need to know everything we have on Leo DeLuca.”

4

LEO

“How was the funeral?” Georgia asks, taking my coat from me.

“Boring,” I say, adding a long sigh before collapsing onto my leather chair. I hate funerals and I couldn’t care less about Vince Russo’s death. He was a means to an end and that end happened a lot faster than I would have liked. “Dante is acting tough, which has become an issue.”

The only thing I would miss about Vince was how easy he was to manipulate. Not to mention he had that obnoxious, but decently hot, wife, so I always had a good amount of leverage. But now I have to deal with his brother, and that idiot doesn’t have anything to lose. And he doesn’t take threats well. Again, a big issue for me.

“He’ll come around,” my assistant replies. “They always do.”

But I don’t have time to wait for him to come around. I’m getting tired of putting my plans on hold, and if I don’t make moves soon, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep my hands clean for much longer.

“What does my schedule look like today?”

Georgia flips open her tablet and scrolls to the right page. “You have a check-in with the housing coalition at ten, a call with Councilman Smith about the transit proposal at noon, and I scheduled you a fitting for the gala on Saturday later this afternoon.”

“Right,” I say, squeezing the bridge of my nose. “I forgot about that. Can you find me a date? Preferably someone who will look good in photos but won’t talk my ear off.” And will let me do whatever I want to her after the gala, but I leave that part out. Georgia is good at reading between the lines.

She narrows her eyes at me and lets out a muffled scoff before nodding her head. “And Enzo Caruso wants to meet. Should I set up a dinner meeting for tonight?”

It’s too early to feel the knot twisting in my stomach. Today was supposed to be a good day. After burying my last insurance policy, the next insurance policy was supposed to be vulnerable enough to finally say yes.

But no. Nothing can ever be that simple. And now I have to deal with him.

I groan, letting my hands sink to my lap. “Fine. Can you get me a coffee? I’m going to need it this morning.”

“Sure,” Georgia says with a smirk. “Black like your soul?”

“Very funny,” I quip, rolling my eyes. She takes that as her cue and heads toward the exit.

As soon as I hear the door click into place, I spin my chair to the bay window overlooking the street and sink deeper into my seat. In less than a week, years of carefully planning and plotting have gone up in smoke.

I drum my fingers against the armrest, each tap scratching a special corner of my brain. For a moment, I let myself wonder what it would be like to fall off the grid. Maybe I’d finally experience an ounce of peace. But even after I get my revenge, I have a feeling it will only make me thirsty for more.

Men like me don’t settle. We get leverage. We get blood. We do whatever it takes to get on top. Hell, that was basically my campaign slogan.

My phone buzzes on the desk. I half-heartedly glance at my screen, but I already know who it is.

A text pops up with a photo featuring the redhead that was in my bed last night, and much to my annoyance, she’s in my shirt, perched on my bathroom sink. I should know better than to leave the women I sleep with in my bed the morning after.

They never want to leave.

“Georgia,” I yell, hoping she’ll hear me through the thick wooden doors. And just like magic, she and her sandy blonde hair and red lips appear with a steaming cup of coffee.

“Thank you,” I say as she sets it down in front of me. “Can you do me a favor?”