by E. M. Gayle
By the time Mr. Reed finished explaining his approach to privacy, my head was spinning. Clearly, I wasn't giving Vincent's celebrity status enough attention. All the more reason for us to stay away from each other as far as I was concerned.
"This is too much. Why investigate it at all? It's done. I paid him and he went away. Stirring the pot now sounds way to risky."
"It's not that simple, Zia," Mr. Reed began. "Blackmail is a complex and twisted game. It's also usually addictive to the perpetrator. It's rarely a one and done situation."
I shook my head. "No. No. That can't be the case here. He knows I have nothing left. Which I'm pretty sure was his plan from the beginning. Only when the courts didn't give him what he wanted, he found another way. It’s not as if he needs the money. He just wanted to punish me."
"I assume the he you are referring to is your ex-husband, Dante."
I nodded, while inwardly cringing. I was really uncomfortable sharing this information. "Yes, Mr. Reed. He is the one who blackmailed me."
"What makes you so sure it was him? Or let me be more specific. Is there anything more besides the fact the email came from his account?" he asked. "Oh, and please call me Houston. Mr. Reed is a little too formal for me."
I turned and glared at Vincent. His willingness to share my information unsettled me. "You'll have to excuse me as I wasn't completely prepared to share such sensitive information with a stranger tonight."
Hah. That was a complete understatement.
"No worries. I get it. This is unpleasant business and something we naturally want to keep private. However, this is what we do. Discretion is our number one priority when it comes to our clients. Seriously, we take your privacy very serious."
I might have balked some more at Houston's reassurances had Vincent not taken that opportunity to wrap his hand around the side of my waist and squeeze. I wasn't sure if it was meant to reassure me or serve as some kind of warning, but that instant connection gave me a sense of warmth and protection.
Something I hadn't felt in a long time. Not since those warm summers in Italy with my grandmother. The one place as a young girl that felt like a haven from the rest of the world.
I took a deep breath and let Vincent's steady touch work through me. He'd hired this man to help us and I knew that if I didn't cooperate it wouldn't work. But did I want it to? I still had a strong urge to just let sleeping dogs lie.
"Besides the email from his account, it only makes sense if Dante was the one who blackmailed me. Why would anyone else care? I've only gotten close to a few people besides him and those I trust implicitly."
Houston nodded while his lips compressed. I had a feeling he was about to tell me why I was wrong.
"You'd be surprised. While these types of crimes are often committed by someone close to the victim, motivations can come from strange places and even stranger people. Celebrities are often just as exploited by strangers as they are people close to them. Social media these days has warped the views of the traditional fan. It's given opportunities and access to stalkers like never before. We really can't discount every possible scenario at this point. It's too soon."
"But the email came from Dante. He was angry about the things I said in court. He referenced our sex life. In hindsight I should have handled all of it differently."
Houston's hand tightened on my waist. "You'd better not be trying to lay the blame for any of this on yourself. That's absurd, Zia."
It was my fault. My mind screamed it at me every time I focused on it. I'd put myself in this position by getting involved with this man in the first place and I was doing it again.
"We don't have anyone to blame yet so let’s try not to go there just yet. This situation is best handled by sticking to the facts. I've got the emails you received and our tech team is working on tracing them now. Is there anything else that might help the investigation?"
My head was about to explode. "You have the emails? But I just showed them to Vincent less than an hour ago."
Houston nodded again. "That's about right. He forwarded them to me and my team jumped on them right away. I should hear an update from them before morning."
My head spun at the speed of which things were happening. Not to mention that throbbing behind my eyes was back. I needed to get back to the hotel and focus on my restaurant. I didn't want to think about this mess anymore.
"I can't do this. I need to get back to the hotel. I could use a few hours of rest before I have to get back to work and back on camera."
"You'll stay here tonight with me."
I bristled at his tone. The implication that there was no question as to whether I would stay or not both annoyed me and thrilled me. Torn between two desires, I was starting to get that crazy vibe again.
"I can—"
"It wasn't a question, Zia. You need rest and you'll get a hell of a lot more here than in that hotel. I have to be at the gym early too. This way we both get what we need in the most efficient way possible."
Ugh. I hated when people used reasonable sounding logic on me. I didn't want to be the one who sounded insane for fighting it. I rubbed at my eyes and the top of my head. By the time I waited for an Uber and then the drive back and the time it took to make my way back to my room...
"On that note, I'm going to see myself out. If you two come up with anything else I need to know, you've got my cell number."
"Will do." Vincent and Houston shook hands. "I know you've both got some big events coming up so I'd like to wrap this up before fight night and the restaurant opening."
I felt my head nod, but I was kind of operating on auto pilot at this point. Fatigue was setting in and I could barely keep my eyes open much longer. Luckily, the goodbye didn't last long and when I tuned back into the conversation Houston was already gone.
I twisted my body to look in the direction of the front door. "Where'd he—"
"He's gone. "C'mon, let’s get you in bed."
Before I could respond, Vincent swept me into his arms and headed to the opposite side of the house that I'd yet to see. Tired of everything, I pressed into his shoulder and slid my eyes closed. I was still curious about the rest of his home, but the need for sleep had won the battle before I could develop a thought.
Here in Vincent's arms I could focus solely on the man surrounding me. His scent, so strong and male, filled my senses. Through the soft fabric pressed against my cheek I could feel the flex of his chest muscles as he carried me. I already knew how incredibly strong he was, but it was a different story all together when that strength was focused solely on me.
Something warm and exciting bloomed in my core. What could I say? Vincent was potent when it came to my libido and I was pretty sure he knew it.
"Here you go, beautiful." One minute I was in his arms and the next I was not and my body wasn't happy about it. A whimper escaped my lips and I vaguely heard a husky chuckle as my shoes were removed.
"No clothes, beautiful. Not allowed in here. Ever."
I heard the decree, but I didn't even remember asking the question. His fingers were trailing their way up my legs and I may have opened my legs to welcome more of his touch. It was hard to tell as my mind had this floaty half asleep thing going on.
"Relax. I've got this for you." He pressed a kiss to the inside of my knee. "Tomorrow you can go back to your high pressure, anxiety inducing nightmare."
"I love my job," I mumbled as he unfastened my skirt and pulled it down my legs. I tried to open my eyes to watch, but my lids were too heavy and I didn't have the energy to fight it. "I just wish it didn't all feel so precarious."
"Don't worry about it anymore tonight. Tonight you need to sleep. Then tomorrow we'll figure it all out. I've got your back."
"Mmhmm," I mumbled as he settled into the bed next to me and I curled into his warm skin. God, he smelled so good. A sweet and spicy cross between leather, whatever spicy sweet cologne he wore and the delicious man underneath. It filled my sleepy mind with all sorts of images.<
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Rich dark chocolate sliding across my breast with his tongue licking it from my skin, herb infused hot wax being dropped onto my skin, soft lips at my core and fingers like hot flames curling around my neck...
Oh hell, I was going to sin again.
The Destroyer was back and I'd let him in.
Unfortunately, this time I might not survive.
Chapter Sixteen
VINCENT
As the music from my air pods thrummed through my entire body and sweat dripped ruthlessly from every pore, I picked up speed. My arms were on fire and every muscle in my body now ached and yet nothing wiped the memory of Zia's soft body pressed against mine as she slept.
Despite the hours that had passed since we'd parted this morning, I could still feel her imprint burned into my skin. And everything in me itched to get her back in my bed as soon as possible.
I should have fucked her again and gotten this insane need out of my system. As much as I enjoyed the cat and mouse game going on between us, I really couldn't afford the distraction from my training.
Fuck this.
I slammed my fist into the speed bag one last time and turned away. It was time to take this session to the next level. There was only way right now to get some of this built up tension out of me once and for all. Glove to glove.
"Bennie, I'm ready." I didn't need to elaborate. My long time trainer knew what I needed.
"Yeah, agreed. Let me go see who's available. Just promise me that even with whatever the hell is mucking up your brain you'll remember this is a sparring partner. Save the knock outs for the real fight."
I glared at Bennie, letting a low growl loose in response. I wasn't in the mood for his shit and to insinuate I couldn't be a professional no matter what happened was fucking insulting.
I dug through my bag I'd thrown in the corner when I started and pulled out a fresh set of hand wraps and my sparring gloves along with a water bottle. As soon as this day ended I was going to wrangle my little chef into another evening at my place. I'd just have to find a way around those cameras that were going to be trailing her twenty-four seven.
A shudder worked down my spine. I don't know how she could agree to something like that. The scrutiny of the paps following me around all the time was already beyond my limits. It's why I spent so much goddamned money on security. But all the BS that came with celebrity was something to live with when you could and avoid when it became necessary.
Tonight I needed some time alone with Zia. Not so we could discuss that fucking blackmail crap either.
"Hello, Vincentius."
My muscles stiffened at the unfamiliar voice from behind me. No one ever called me by my full first name. Especially someone I didn't know.
I turned slowly to find three men standing just feet away and looking so out of place I couldn't fathom how they got past that security I paid so much money for.
I did, however, know who these men were. At least one of them. And I wasn't surprised they'd shown up out of the blue. I'd been expecting them since my return from Italy. I'd sensed the trouble headed my way since I stepped onto the Rossi estate.
If I hadn't recognized the man, the trademark scar on his cheek was a dead giveaway. The ongoing feud between the Las Vegas Italian mafia and the Scottish crime gangs that continued to encroach on casino operations here was fairly well known to anyone with a pulse and money in this town.
Las Vegas might be considered an open territory for criminal organizations, but that didn't mean interpersonal conflicts weren't always happening. These continuing fights had resulted in Anthony Cullotta getting jumped outside one of his casinos several years back and getting cut from ear to ear with what is infamously known as the Glasgow grin.
"Anthony." If he was going to pull some sort of familiarity bullshit with me then I would give it back to him in spades. They didn't belong here and we both knew it.
"I hear you had an intense trip to Italy and that maybe congratulations are in order or maybe condolences depending on your perspective."
I narrowed my eyes and remained silent. I didn't yet know what Anthony's game was here, but I was damned sure I wasn't going to like it.
"Should I call you Vincentius or Romeo? I've heard quite the story about you lately."
I gritted my teeth against the name Romeo. I'd never been overly fond of my given middle name and liked it even less when it got adopted by female fans and the media. Their habitual use as it applied to my lack of a singular woman in my life annoyed me, but until Italy it had been a minor nuisance. And I was certain that Anthony was not referring to "that" reputation.
As it turns out my mother gave me my biological father's name after all despite her refusal to reveal his identity to me before she disappeared.
"I don't care what you call me as long as you do it walking out the door." I tossed my water bottle back in the bag and began shoving my hands into my gloves.
"Is that really how you want to treat a new colleague? With disrespect?"
I glared up at him, unsure I'd heard him correctly while knowing that I did. "Is that some kind of joke? You planning to throw into the ring now?"
"Don't be coy, boy. It's disrespectful and I only have so much tolerance for that kind of thing. Maybe when I was younger I would have found it amusing, but these days I can't be bothered."
I ground my back teeth together to keep from spitting out every violent laced word that ran through my head. Part of my job over the years had been to mouth off against an opponent and right now I viewed Anthony akin to one.
However, with everything going on right now I needed to keep my focus on what was important and that wasn't this guy.
"Why don't you save us both some time and just spit it out. What do you want?"
"A decent greeting for one," he sneered.
When I didn't respond he continued. "Maybe you should have stayed in Italy a little longer and taken a crash course in manners from your father. This is not how we conduct business."
"Considering we have no business together I think that would be a stretch. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to my training.
When I tried to brush past Anthony, his two thugs stepped in my way and blocked my exit.
"Now I know you're joking." I turned back to the mobster still breathing my air. "I could snap your neck a hell of a lot faster than those two men can draw those guns they have at their backs. You want to test me?"
The anger that flared in the older man's eyes did little to dissuade me from my fury or my plan to show him exactly what I meant. It had been a long time since I'd taken a fight and I was itching for it.
That trip to Italy had been both a blessing and a curse. I'd unwittingly walked into a battle for power and apparently I wasn't going to get to walk away like I'd planned.
"Violence begets you, Vincentius, just like it does your father. I always liked that about him and I hope I will enjoy it with you as well. But first, you have to do something for the organization. For your family."
I took a step in the direction of Anthony and his two goons moved faster than I'd expected. They had their guns drawn and pointed in my direction within a couple of seconds. I neither backed down or advanced any further. I had no fear of being shot or even dying. When the time came, it came. I didn't live my life that way.
There were, however, too many people in the gym to risk any collateral damage. So for now I would bide my time. But if they were going to pull me into the family business before I was ready it would be with broken bones and blood.
"Tell me what you want, but don't pretend to be surprised when I tell you no. Either way you need to get out of my gym before this goes badly for you."
Anthony laughed then. A big belly roll type of sound that might have been amusing if I wasn't so pissed off. "I have thoroughly enjoyed your brand of brash arrogance during your fighting career and have to admit that I am sad to see that come to an end. It could serve you well in business though, when used at the right times and w
ith the proper respect. But you will learn. If you are open to learning. Otherwise your chance at leadership I'm afraid, will be very short."
"Look, old man, I am not in the mood for a lecture. I already have several businesses to run and I don't need any fucking lessons. Get. To. The. Fucking. Point."
Anthony glared at me and I saw not just the spark of anger, but something much darker in his eyes. "You're going to throw the fight."
"The fuck I will!" Anger exploded inside every molecule inside me. Who the hell did this asshole think he was?
I lunged forward, but the two idiots guarding this fool got to me before I could lay hands on the infamous mobster. I knew what kind of trouble my moves were buying me and at the moment I didn't care. I'd barely gotten to the point where I could wrap my head around who my father was. My plans on how to utilize that fact had yet to crystalize.
"Vincent. What the hell is going on in here? I thought you were going to get in the ring."
At the sound of Bennie's voice behind me my blood chilled. I didn't want him involved in any of this. I was in an unusual position to antagonize these men to an extent, but anyone else would be fair game for their well-known brand of violence.
"Chill, Bennie. I'm coming. These men were just leaving anyways." I narrowed my eyes on Anthony and made it clear as I could that they were actually on their way out.
"Yes, our business is done here for now. You know what needs to be done."
"You're out of your mind if you think that is ever going to happen. I have a 49-0 record and I'm not about to risk my perfect retirement."
Anthony rolled his eyes. "You get paid no matter what happens. Besides, you didn't really believe you achieved that stellar record all on your own, did you?" Anthony leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Nothing important in this town happens without our stamp of approval and whether you knew it or not, your career has progressed as it has due to our involvement. Now, it's time for you to transition and on your way out we need you to set up your replacement. It's how this shit works after all. I also shouldn't have to warn you what happens to soldiers who choose to defy me." He started to walk away and stopped, turning back. "Oh and that last fight that you barely won? You're welcome," he rasped.