Carlyle: A Dark Mafia Romance
Page 3
He may be my brother, but I’d kill him if I could. All he managed was to be a thorn in my side, and he was digging a little too deep. It didn’t help that he didn’t seem as eager to leave as I was to have him gone. But, that’s what he gets for being stuck so far up Dad’s asshole that he can’t do anything for himself.
“Fuck.” Grumbling the slur under my breath as I emerged into the courtyard, I unbuttoned my shirt before realizing it was dark out. Glancing up at the half-moon hanging high, I scowled darkly. The days seemed to blur together, move all too fast, and I headed for the gates to stuff my hands in my pockets.
So much was going to happen in the next few months. I could feel Oran was going to make a move. Illya still had to go through all the transcripts, but I had a feeling Oran’s numbers wouldn’t stack up. Of course, I hadn’t told him or my father what, exactly, was going on, but if Oran already knew . . .
Well, I guess that didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he could change the files without my knowing. If he did, he was as good as dead, and he knew it.
Whether or not my little brother was involved remained to be proven, but uncovering this scheme had set the wheels in motion. I didn’t know enough to be sure, but I had a feeling he was working with the Italians. After all, why the fuck would they invite me to a gala unless it was for some shady dealings? I’d told that crusty, old man in no uncertain terms that he can shove his proposal up his ass and clench. Why, after that, did he think providing me an opportunity like this would be good for him?
Unless he knew I was going to kidnap and kill his daughter? Nah . . . Those hypocritical bastards wouldn’t do something so brazen.
Not to mention I was doing them a favor, God damnit! That whiny, bratty cunt got in everyone’s way, and the internal troubles the Italians were having were being exacerbated by her. She needed to fucking go.
“Agh!” Ruffling my hair, I shook my head hard but couldn’t dislodge the thoughts whizzing through my brain. It never fucking stopped, and I flopped my head back to take a huge breath of cool, nighttime air.
Cars sped past me, erratic and flashing blinders, and I secretly wished one would hit me. At least, then, things would be interesting. My chest tightened from the breeze flowing under my shirt, and my shoes hugged the asphalt as I paused to stare at the white line I followed.
“Hey, mister, are you okay?” Tearing my eyes off the paint, I frowned as a shapely figure emerged from a sea of red. Heels clicked softly, and a vaguely familiar face cast in cautious worry at me. “Are you alright?”
“I guess it depends on your definition of ‘alright.’” Shimmery sequins reflected the brake lights shining out from behind her, and I scanned her from bottom to top. Long, lean legs, nice dress and heels, her bust barely held back. She was obviously on her way to a party. “You didn’t have to stop for me. I’m just on a walk.”
“You’re the guy from the pizza place the other day!” Frowning, I only jerked my chin at that, and her face cast in the shadows of a huge smirk. “Wanna go party with us? My sister thought you were hot.”
“You’re inviting a stranger into your car?” She waved me off, stepping out of the light to really let me get a look at her. Her long, dirty blonde hair teased her breasts, and I frowned when she unabashedly grabbed my arm with a little giggle. Someone pre-partied . . .
“It’s fine. It’s fine!” Gingerly taking my arm from her grip, I forced myself not to roll my eyes as I helped her back to her car. I didn’t even know her name, and she was inviting me out like we were pals. Popping open the back door, I sat her down and glanced over the driver’s seat at the meter running on a phone propped on the dash.
“At least you’re not stupid and drove yourself.” Buckling her in, even as she tried to tug at my shirt, I grabbed her hands and put them firmly in her lap. “Stay.”
“Valerie, you should get his number.” Making the mistake of glancing over the back seat, I paused as those big, beautiful brown eyes widened in mortification. So, Valerie’s her name. She’d been sexy in her feminine, white button-down at the pizza place, and now was no different. A short pencil skirt hugged her thighs, her thin, black shirt— the same style of professional but a little more revealing— tucked into her thin waist. Clenching my jaw, I straightened to shut the door and fish my wallet out of my pocket.
“Bring them back home.” The dude driving opened his mouth to protest, and I flicked two hundred-dollar bills through the window with a sneer. “She just tried to get a stranger into the car— what’s gonna happen when they’re really trashed? Take them home.”
“Yeah, yeah, fine . . . fuck.” Stepping back as he pulled the gear, I glared at the driver’s side while he pulled a U-turn. Waiting until they were out of sight beyond a rolling slope, I heaved a massive sigh and shook my head viciously.
Exchanging my wallet for my phone, I searched for Carl’s number before holding the speaker to my ear.
“On my way, boss.” The call lasted less than three seconds, and I checked the time with a frown from under furrowed brows. I’d been gone almost an hour, and I’d been stuck in my own head for most of that.
“I really need to find something to do before I go crazy from boredom.” Slipping my phone into my pocket, I gazed down the road with a knot of regret grappling my gut. “Or someone.”
6
Valerie
Waiting in line for my coffee, I swiped around on my phone as the people in front of me shuffled forward like zombies. Saturday night still made me sick to think about, and I gulped back a groan. I shouldn’t have let Natasha get out of the car, but I recognized those broad, muscular shoulders in a flash.
It’d been too long since I got laid, methinks.
“What’s taking so long?” Grumbling from beside me, my sister stuck her big head out of the line, and I glanced up from my phone at the baristas scurrying around behind the counter. “Excuse me, what’s going on? We’re usually in and out by now. You guys are always on top of things.”
I could tell the compliment was meant to mask how irritated she was, and Natasha’s question earned her several mumbles of agreement. One man paused, his eyes widening when he realized how long the line had gotten, and he set himself behind the register before I turned back to my phone.
“I apologize. We got a huge phone order. I’ll take the next person in line, please.” Today hadn’t even started yet, and it was already going downhill. Casting a curious glance at Natasha when she nudged my elbow, I pursed my lips thinly at the glint in her eye.
“Are you grumpy because of Saturday night?” Not bothering to answer, I only half-shrugged, and the bracelet on my wrist tinkled lightly. Sticking my phone in my purse, I turned my attention to the menu as the line got noticeably shorter. “Valerie, you can’t tell me that guy sending us back didn’t make you swoon. Come on, be honest with yourself.”
“I really, really don’t wanna talk about it, Nat. You looked a fool.” Carlyle’s voice, when he snapped at the Lyft driver, still gave me goosebumps, and I crossed my arms over my chest tightly. “Don’t go around thinking you did me a favor.”
“I saw him check you out.” Shooting me a smirk, Natasha jutted her chin out, and heat crept up my neck as she nudged my side again. “If you see him, get his number. Seriously. He thinks you’re hot, you think he’s hot . . . what’s the harm?”
Before I could open my mouth to answer what, exactly, the harm was, the front door chimed as it swung open. Everything stopped for a fraction of a second as a huge dude with a scowl stormed around tables towards the pick-up counter.
“Theo, you’re so scowly.” A pretty woman popped out from behind him, and she smiled at the glare he shot her that’d make any man piss himself. “It’s not a big deal. I’m here to help.”
Theo didn’t answer, only stopping his stomping as boxes of flaming hot coffee were set on the counter.
“Do you need help bringing everything out?” I and everyone else watched the guy hold up a hand with only had two fingers and a thu
mb on it, and I covered my mouth to muffle my gasp. My chest tightened, and he stared down the barista before turning to the woman standing beside him.
“You’re not allowed to help, and you know it. Grab the donuts.”
“Yes, sir.” She gave him a mock salute, wiggling her fingers greedily at the five or six boxes piled on the counter. Prancing off, she held the door open for the guy, who only held one box of beautiful, amazing, incredible . . . ugh, I need coffee before I explode.
“I didn’t know you guys took phone orders?” Snapping out of my daze, I shuffled forward as Natasha posed her question to the barista. Two employees disappeared, helping to bring out the order, and I watched them from the corner of my eye.
“We don’t. Every once and a while, we get an order like that, and the boss says we gotta fill it. Anyway, what can I get you this morning?” I couldn’t help but wonder if, like the pizza place, this coffee shop made an exception for Carlyle. Putting in my order for a black brew with tons of sugar, I stepped to the side as the woman came back in to grab more donuts.
“I wanna work where they work. Damn. No one ever buys me a donut just for showing up.” Licking my lips heavily at the idea of a buffet table of coffee and donuts, I meandered around the pick-up counter while my sister nodded firmly. “I bet Paul would have a heart attack if he saw that next to the computers.”
“Everyone needs graphic designers, Valerie, but not everyone treats their employees super-duper.” Natasha’s voice got nasally, and I rolled my eyes as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I’m telling you, you should quit. You only took this job because you were too lazy to learn anything more than HTML.”
“Me? You took the job because it was easy, Nat. Besides, what am I gonna do instead? Pursue my dream to be a paper plane manufacturer?” Even though she laughed, my sourness was real, and I snatched my coffee from the counter to saunter out without her. Once I was on the sidewalk, I popped the top and blew on the gorgeous, roasted brew, so dark that I could see my reflection perfectly. “I spend way too much time with you, damnit.”
It wasn’t like I’d ever make any money off my art, anyway, and that was really, really sad.
“I’m more likely to get hit by a paper airplane than sell something I drew.” Lifting the cup to my lips, I shivered as the smell clogged my nostrils, and my eyelids fluttered closed in a brief moment of bliss. Sighing heavily, I fixed the top back on and ignored the slight burning of my tongue as it stuck to the roof of my mouth.
“I’m just sayin’, Val, the point of coming out here was so you’d eventually be able to paint full time.” Groaning loudly when Natasha emerged from the coffee place, I stumbled away dramatically, but she simply scoffed at my antics. “Don’t be a gloomy bitch.”
“Gloomy bitch? I’ll show you gloom.” Whipping around, I glared at my sister before catching a flash of black behind her, and all my puff whizzed out of my ears. “Oh, crap.”
“What?” The sun was low enough to cast a slight shadow on the sidewalk, and Carlyle’s stretched as he leaned on the hood of a car. He plucked a cigarette from between his lips to laugh heartily, and the fine hairs on my chest stood up as the sound carried to me. “Oh, go give him your number, Valerie.”
Just as Natasha spoke, Carlyle passed the girl that’d grabbed the donuts his smoke, and I gnawed on my bottom lip as my face heated. She had green eyes, but they could’ve been siblings, and they certainly seemed close as he ruffled her hair.
Suddenly, light brown eyes met mine, and Carlyle didn’t give her so much as a ‘be right back’ before striding down the sidewalk. Panic struck my chest, and my lungs stopped working as embarrassment flamed my cheeks. Did I look as jealous as I was? Oh crap . . . oh man . . .
“Are you following me?” Amusement thickened his tone, and I huffed as my sister’s glare bored holes into my face. It did nothing to release the heat in my cheeks, and he smiled politely even while his eyes scorched me from top to bottom. “I don’t think we were able to introduce ourselves the other day. I’m Carlyle.”
“Valerie.” Thanking God himself that I didn’t stutter, I held out my hand without thinking, and goosebumps swept up my arm when his palm pressed against mine. His hand was so firm, so big . . . oh my God, no! “Um . . . a-about the other night. I wanted to apologize for my sister’s . . . ”
My words died on my tongue when Carlyle started rubbing the top of my hand with his thumb. His polite, slightly smoldering expression didn’t waver, and I blinked hard before pulling back to grip the straps of my purse.
“I admit I haven’t been to a party I’ve enjoyed in a long time. They’re mostly work functions. Next time, give me a heads up.” He talked so clipped and proper, and a shiver lodged between my shoulders when he cocked his head back a little. “Wouldn’t you need my number for that?”
“Oh, right. Yeah.” Now that he was so close, Carlyle was mesmerizing— his eyes sucked me in, and an embarrassed giggle escaped as I fished my phone out of my purse. “We usually party every Saturday.”
“I’ll clear my schedule.” Tapping away on the screen in a new contact, I nodded before Carlyle was looming over me, and he tilted my phone down. His face was so close that I could smell his cologne, and my eyelids fluttered dangerously as I inhaled deeply. His soft hum of appreciation tightened my nipples— from the screen or the peek down my shirt, I wasn’t sure— and I glanced up from under my lashes. “I’ll see you Saturday, then, Valerie.”
I half-expected Carlyle to caress my cheek or something, but he only stepped back and headed to his car. Holding my breath as they sped away, I shivered with the effort it took not to look at the shiny vehicle as it passed me. My heart thundered in my chest, and I turned to my sister in a daze, not really registering her massive, shit-eating grin.
“I’m guessing I’m gonna be ‘sick’ on Saturday?” Blowing a gust of breath, I nodded firmly, and Natasha giggled a little. “