The Banker
Page 2
“Then you better find another plan,” Micah said. “It doesn’t matter how you pull this off. As long as we get Cato Marino, your father walks free. It’s that simple. Do nothing—and I will kill him.” The gentlemanly attitude was long gone, and now his true colors rose to the surface. He squeezed his glass with his fingers. “Your father encroached on our territory and was stupid enough to cross the line one too many times. I was kind enough to give him a warning—but no more.”
My father ran a cigar business, exporting them all across Europe. They were high quality, sometimes costing eighty euros just for a single one. But that wasn’t how he made his money. His cigars were stuffed with drugs—the finest drugs in this hemisphere. He smuggled them where they needed to go under the clever disguise. The problem was, Micah was in the same line of work—and Italy just wasn’t big enough for the both of them. I warned my father that his good luck would run out, that he would take a bigger bite than he could chew. When he didn’t listen to me, I turned my back on my family—because I wanted a simple life.
“You’re a clever woman, and I respect you.” Micah had just threatened me, but now he’d flipped his attitude like it hadn’t happened. “You didn’t approve of what he was doing. You warned him this would happen. You left your family and started over. Unfortunately, the rest of your family didn’t inherit the same intelligence.”
“But I’m still here with you…so I can’t be that smart.” I should have left Italy. I should have moved to France or London. Or better yet, I should have crossed the pond and started a new life in America.
Micah gave me a slight smile. “You can blame your father for that.”
Yes, I could blame him for all of this. I wanted nothing to do with his criminal life, but I somehow had been dragged back into it. “What do you want with Cato Marino?” I didn’t know anything about this guy, but I knew he wasn’t innocent. If he were, Micah wouldn’t be risking his organization to take down such a powerful man. There must be a good reason.
“Our business.” Micah took a drink. “Not yours.”
Why did I expect anything else? “And if I say no?” I had every right to walk away right now. I’d warned my father so many times. Even when my mother was murdered, he didn’t stop. That was the last straw for me. He was blinded by greed and power. Fortune was more important than his family, more important than the woman who gave him his children. He got himself into this mess, and I should let him suffer for it.
Damien cocked his head slightly, as if that answer was the one he was hoping for. “Then you can join me in my bed.” The threat was palpable, filling the air around us and permeating our skin. His lust matched his hostility, and there was no evidence of a bluff. “And when I’m done with you, I’ll throw your dead body into your father’s prison—naked and dripping with come from every hole.”
Like bugs were crawling across my skin, I felt my body being twisted under invisible hands. My breathing picked up slightly, and my fingers flinched automatically, wishing I could grab a glass and smash it over Damien’s head. But I already had a gunshot wound, and I wasn’t craving another.
Even if Damien hadn’t threatened me with that terrifying image, I knew my conscience wouldn’t allow me to abandon my father. If he were anyone else, I would have kept fighting until the last drop of blood left my veins, but my loyalty wouldn’t allow me to flinch. If I managed to pull this off, I would save my own life as well as my father’s.
And the little girl inside me still wished we would have the fairy-tale ending I always wanted—a simple life together. Family dinners on Sunday. Putting up the Christmas tree while the frost pressed against the windows. Drinking wine at our favorite vineyard just when the harvest finished. I’d felt alone my entire life—even when my family was just a few miles away. “If I bring Cato to you, you release both my father and me?”
Micah nodded. “As long as your father shuts down his business.”
My father loved that business more than me, but perhaps being locked up for god knows how long would change his mind. “Fine. But I’m not sleeping with him.” I would do anything to save my family, but opening my legs wasn’t an avenue I would take. There must be some other way to make it happen.
“It doesn’t matter to me how you do it,” Micah said. “Just get the job done. But if you fail, there is no deal. Until Cato Marino is in my captivity, your father will remain here. And if you can’t deliver what you promised, I’ll be forced to kill your father. So, if I were you…I wouldn’t take your time.”
Damien smiled at me. “But after I capture you again…I’ll definitely take my time.”
3
Siena
This was what I’d gathered about Cato Marino.
He was stupid rich. Multibillionaire.
He was self-made. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the achievements of this single man in his single lifetime.
He was young. He just turned thirty in March.
How did someone so young accomplish so much?
And the most surprising revelation of all…he was hot.
Inexplicably gorgeous. So beautiful it was unreal. Over six foot of steel—and probably all steel in his pants too. Every picture I saw of him showed off his caveman shoulders, his muscled arms, and tight waist. Whether he was in jeans or a suit, the hardness of his body couldn’t be denied. Sexy from head to toe, he was model material, not just banker material.
I hadn’t planned on seducing him to accomplish my goal, but now I realized that plan wouldn’t have worked anyway. A hot billionaire like him was already getting too much ass to handle. He could have any woman he wanted, so there was no way I could impress him. He might glance at me, think I was pretty. But an instant later, he would already be thinking about something else.
I did as much research as I could, and it was safe to conclude this man was impenetrable. Every photograph I could find of him showed his security team in the background. The only public appearances he made were for work. His personal life wasn’t disclosed. There wasn’t even a picture of him going to the grocery store to pick up some orange juice.
No wonder why Micah put this on my shoulders.
There were a few places Cato frequented in Florence, so I decided to get a view of him in person. Perhaps if I studied my prey, I’d gain a better understanding of how I was going to pull this off. Marching up to him with a gun wouldn’t accomplish anything. One of his men would take me out in a second. I probably couldn’t even walk up to him at all, not without being intercepted by one of his bodyguards.
I didn’t have a lot of time to waste, but I had to take this slowly if I were going to accomplish anything.
I went to one of his favorite clubs in Florence. I didn’t have a clue if or when he would show his face, so I made an appearance three nights in a row, wearing a different dress and heels each time. The bartender thought I was a lonely alcoholic who had quickly become a regular.
On the third night, I sat alone at a table when I finally got some luck. My hands were wrapped around my glass of scotch as my eyes watched the commotion at the doorway. Bouncers moved out of the way so Cato could lead the pack. With three other good-looking men in suits, they entered the bar, all heads turning their way like they were beautiful women in heels. Women weren’t the only ones looking, but men too, probably envious of a man who was so rich and handsome he could have any woman he wanted—at any time.
A special seating area was cleared out just for them, and before their muscular asses pressed against the leather seats, a sexy waitress in a dress that hardly covered anything appeared out of nowhere to wait on them.
I focused on Cato and ignored his three friends. Even in the darkness of the club, he looked exactly the same as he did in his photographs. Rugged, handsome, and confident. He wore a gray V-neck that highlighted his muscular arms and chest. His shoulders were broader in person than they were in the pictures. With blue eyes and brown hair, he was a very pretty man. His tanned skin implied he loved the outdoors, even t
hough I’d never seen a single photograph of him hiking or yachting.
I continued to enjoy my scotch as I stared from my chair, trying to glean as much information as I could. The three men with him seemed to be friends, not security detail. The men in charge of keeping him safe stayed near the entrance, their eyes scanning the bar and everyone near it. Hopefully, they didn’t find me suspicious, just a woman who was debating making a move.
Just as the waitress returned with their drinks, a group of confident women joined them. All pretty and dressed for the occasion, they flashed their smiles and their long legs, knowing exactly who Cato was.
I assumed a handsome guy like him was a playboy, but I wasn’t prepared for how extreme of a playboy he was.
He grabbed the woman closest to him by the wrist and gently tugged her toward him. His hands guided her hips over his thighs until she straddled his lap. Then he gripped her lower back and pulled her in for a kiss, her dress riding up and showing her black thong to everyone.
The other guys didn’t seem the least bit surprised.
The bar staff didn’t rush over and tell her to stick to the dress code.
With my jaw hanging open, I watched Cato make out with a complete stranger. Like he could do whatever he wanted, he took control without asking permission. His hand dug into her hair, and he kissed her with his full lips, treating her like he adored her rather than had no idea who she was. His fingers tucked her hair behind her ear then he gripped her ass.
Even though he was a total pig, it was still pretty hot. He certainly knew how to use that rugged mouth of his.
He ended the kiss then gently guided her into the seat beside him. His arm rested over the back of the couch, and he turned to talk to her, perhaps to actually ask for her name, but another woman straddled his hips and stole his attention.
Then he made out with her next.
“Jesus…” I took a long drink of my scotch.
She kissed him harder than the previous woman, her hands scratching his chest as she ground against his erection in his slacks. She showed him her best moves, doing her damnedest to erase the woman who had just pulled the same stunt.
The kiss lasted a while before he directed her into the space on the other side of him. Both of his arms now rested on the leather of the back of the couch as he claimed both women for the night, one under each arm.
“Wow…what a pig.”
The other guys found their women, and then they spent the night drinking and talking.
I’d had my fair share of playboys, but nothing of that caliber. That man didn’t even need to hunt for pussy because it hunted for him. All he had to do was wait thirty seconds, and a beautiful woman would appear to replace the previous one. When the night was over, he would probably take both women back to his place with the intention of bedding them both. They probably hoped they might catch his attention if they were adventurous enough, but like all the others, they would be gone by morning.
And he would forget their faces forever.
Just when I finished my scotch, another woman appeared. She straddled his lap, and another make-out session commenced.
I’d been sitting there all night without attracting an admirer, while Cato was getting more pussy than he could handle. “Fuck…I need another drink.”
I had a few friends in high places, so I used that to my advantage to get an audience with the right man.
A hitman.
He specialized in killing high-profile targets and making it look like accidents. He’d retired a few years ago, but he’d had an illustrious career that garnered him a great deal of respect. Bosco Roth was a good friend of my brother’s, so I called him and asked for an introduction to this famous killer.
Now I sat on the bench at the bus stop in the middle of the night. It was two in the morning, and everyone was at home. The only company I had was a bum sleeping across the street in the alleyway. The sun had been gone for hours, but the humidity still hovered over me in the darkness. I was in jeans and a t-shirt, but even that was too warm to wear.
Heavy footsteps sounded to my left, and that’s when I turned to see the huge man covered in sleeves of tattoos. He was terrifying in appearance, especially when he clenched his jaw like that. He didn’t look the least bit pleased to see me, like this favor he was doing for Bosco was nothing but a pain in the ass.
I rose to my feet and stood under the lamplight. Like always, I didn’t show fear, even though this man was much more terrifying than Damien had ever been. “Bones?”
He stopped in front of me, keeping several feet in between us. We were visible under the lamplight, but he didn’t seem to care if we were seen. He was in a black t-shirt and black jeans, matching the ink that covered his arms and disappeared under the collar of his shirt. “I’m only here because Bosco is a friend of mine. I’m not in the game anymore, and there’s nothing you can offer me to change my mind. If we’re done here, I have somewhere to be.” He spat everything out as quickly as he could, like just one more second of this meeting was too much for him.
When I was part of my family, I was used to luxury. We were a wealthy family, so I always had everything that I needed. Perhaps if I had stayed, that would still be the case, and I would have a lot more money to offer him. Unfortunately, all I had was the deed to my house, some jewelry my father bought me, and my car. “There’s a million euros for you if you can help me.” To me, that was a fortune.
But based on the coldness of his face, that was just a few pennies. “I said there’s nothing you can offer me. I meant it.” He slid his hands into his front pockets, and that’s when I noticed the black ring tattooed on his ring finger.
“I don’t want to kill this guy. I just need to get him from Point A to Point B.” Now that I’d observed Cato with my own eyes, I realized how difficult this mission would be. He was impossible to access because he was never alone, and if he was alone, he probably had a woman’s tongue down his throat. This was completely out of my league. “It’s a simple mission.”
“Then why do you need me?”
“This isn’t really my forte…”
He continued to look bored.
“Look, I’m mixed up in some serious shit, and I need help.”
Bones still look irritated, like every moment he wasted was precious. “I have a guy who can help you. But a million euro isn’t going to cut it.”
“Then how much?” Maybe I could scrounge up some more money somehow.
“Depends on the target. Who is it?”
I glanced around us to make sure we were alone. “Cato Marino.”
Recognition immediately flashed in his gaze. “No one is gonna take the hit for less than a hundred million.”
My eyes snapped open. “You can’t be serious.”
“He’s a high-profile target. I’m not even sure it can be done. A hundred million is a conservative guess.”
“I don’t have that kind of money…”
“Then you don’t have Cato.” He took a step back like he was going to leave the scene. “I’ve got a wife and kid at home. I shouldn’t have come in the first place.”
“Wait, please.”
He stopped and burned his ice-cold gaze into mine. “I just told you I can’t help you. You’re on your own, woman.”
“Could you at least give me some advice?” I tried not to beg, but my voice slowly rose. If no one would help me, my odds of completing this mission were even more unlikely. Killing Cato would be a much easier task than delivering him to Micah. At least then I could hide on top of a roof and aim my weapon. “How would you capture Cato and hand him over?”
“Cato Marino is a powerful man. He’s got security on him at all times.”
“Hence, why I’m asking for advice.” Maybe I shouldn’t be a smartass right now, but I was losing my focus.
He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t stand a chance. If you have no men and no money, capturing someone like him isn’t possible. You only have one option, and even then, it probably
won’t work.”
“What?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
He stared at me for a few seconds, his eyes steady and wide. He didn’t blink often, adding to his aura of constant hostility. “Fuck him. Fuck him hard.”
There was a coffee shop across the street from one of Cato’s banks, and he’d been seen grabbing a cup of afternoon coffee there once in a while. He had been dressed in his suit and tie, and it seemed like he’d spent all morning talking about money until his brain was fried.
I sat at one of the tables outside with a latte and a book, hoping he would stop by sometime that week. A few days passed and he didn’t make an appearance, and I was almost done with my book and would soon have to replace it. Thankfully, the gallery had been slow for the past two weeks, so my boss didn’t need me as often as usual.
I could keep stalking my target.
Finally, Cato Marino showed up. It was two in the afternoon when he crossed the street and stepped inside the bakery.
I could watch him through the windows. He was in a gray suit and black tie. His trousers hugged his rock-hard ass, and he held himself with perfect posture. He stood in line and waited to order as he casually glanced at his expensive watch. Then he rubbed his fingers across the shadowy beard that started to pop up along his chiseled jaw.
I wondered if he’d gone home with all three of those women from the bar.
Wouldn’t be surprised.
He moved up to the front of the line and gave his order. He dropped a hundred euro into the tip jar when no one was looking then stepped away to wait for his coffee to be prepared.
So the guy was generous.
I didn’t know what these stalking sessions would accomplish. It didn’t seem like I was gleaning any helpful knowledge in the process. So far, all I’d uncovered was that he was getting laid constantly and he looked damn good in a suit. He was also a generous tipper. But none of those things would help me get him into Micah’s hands.