She was at the hospital with Katia now, holding one of her hands while she birthed twin boys.
We were set to get married within the next month. I popped the question one week after we moved into our new house together. It sits on the beach. A private one. Where I proposed to her. She surprised me by saying she had her IUD removed the day before. The game was on now.
I just had to figure out how to better protect our family.
No matter how much I didn’t want to, it looked like the Italians were going to be my only option. But I knew what Bruno would want. 65% of my company.
I lifted my head at the ding of the elevator, confused at who that could be. Fi was still at the hospital. BoBo had driven her there and was waiting for her. Jorge and Kent were on vacation together. And Keith should still be monitoring the fights. I was supposed to be too but couldn’t focus so I came back here.
I slowly opened the top right drawer in my desk, reaching for my gun.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A deep voice called from the hallway. “We are just here to talk. We will come in when you remove your hand from that drawer. I’m not worried about our safety. I’m worried about yours. Fiona has suffered enough in her life. I wouldn’t want her to lose you as well.”
I dropped my gun and closed the drawer. “Who the hell are you?”
Two tall men entered my office, before I could even tell them I had put the gun away. When I looked at them curiously, the younger one tilted his phone back and forth, then pointed at the camera in the corner.
I gave them both an incredulous eyebrow as the older one sat down. The younger one stayed standing behind him. While he looked relaxed, I could tell he was far from it.
“How did you hack into my cameras? That should be impossible.”
The younger man smirked. The older man snorted. “Nothing is impossible when it comes to my nephew. I will say this though. Your fiancé is probably the first to challenge him like she did. I thank you for that. Punk needed deflating.”
The smirk on the nephew turned to a scowl.
“Guess that explains how you got access to my elevator too. Who are you?”
The older man placed his right ankle over his left knee, feigning comfort, and ease. Just like his nephew, it was an act.
“My name is Mitch Anderson. I am the underboss to the American Mafia on the West Coast.”
My eyes widened. “Cooper?” I mentally cursed.
What the hell was going on now? How did I offend them? I’d never dealt with them before. They were headquartered in San Francisco, but I knew they had a presence here as well. They weren’t as flamboyant about their dealings as the Russians and Italians were. Even still, everyone knew they were there, hiding in the dark.
Mitch tipped his head in a silent nod. “Yes, the Coopers. And no, you did nothing wrong. You have not offended us in any way.
My heart stopped. How did he know what I was thinking?
