by C. A. Szarek
She needed a freaking distraction, stat. “Speaking of my case, how did you even get a spot on my taskforce? Olinsky doesn’t know your family owns the casino?”
He jolted. Averted his eyes, and jammed his hand through his dark hair. His shoulders quaked, more than the barest denial of his headshake.
Surprise washed over Maddie.
Gio’s hesitation shouted he hadn’t wanted to admit that truth, and perhaps he shouldn’t have. With one word to his captain, she could have him removed from her taskforce.
Probably should.
“It’s not a conflict of interest,” he said, as if he’d read her mind.
“How could he not know?” she demanded.
“I’m a private person,” he said on an exhale, like he needed a second to gather himself.
“Gio—”
“My dad isn’t laundering money!” His shout had her freezing. He rubbed the back of his neck, and again, avoided looking her way. “He has cancer. He’s in the hospital.”
Maddie blinked. “I’m sorry.” The words were automatic, but no less sincere.
That intense gaze swung back to her face and he seemed like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.
He’d always had tension with his father, but as someone who’d lost her parents, she sympathized. He might not always get along with his dad, but Antonio Giovanni was still his father.
If Gio dipped only a few inches toward her face, he could kiss her.
Maddie didn’t want that.
At. All.
Cursed herself for the mere idea.
She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about your dad,” she repeated. “But it doesn’t change the status of my case. We have to carry on the investigation, there are some serious accusations there, and it looks bad, as you know from briefing.”
“My dad’s never been involved with organized crime.”
“Gio—”
“I’ll prove it.”
That gave her pause. “If Olinsky knew—”
“You’d do that to me? Fuck me over with my captain so you don’t have to work with me?”
She ignored how her heart skipped. “Gio—”
His eyes flashed. For the third time he didn’t let her get out more than his name. He hung closer, invading her bubble.
His mouth so close to hers.
“Let me stay on the taskforce, and I’ll prove my dad has nothing to do with this. I deserve that much from you.”
Maddie didn’t have anywhere else to retreat to, so she stared into those glowing sapphires. She should be insulted but the way he’d said, ‘from you’ like that.
Like she owed him something.
That was bullshit, wasn’t it?
“Okay.” The word of acquiescence fell out, even though she shouldn’t have agreed. There was so much more to say, but she couldn’t form anything coherent. Couldn’t look away from his eyes.
He nodded.
She tried not to breathe him in. He smelled the same. His aftershave wrapped around her, making her dizzy. “Move. We’re done now.” She should push him away, but touching him was a bad idea.
“No. We’re far from done.”
Suddenly, he wasn’t talking about the case or the taskforce.
She tried to ignore how her heart skipped into overdrive. “Yes we are, Gio. We’ve been done for eight years. It’s been a long time. Things have changed.”
Gio narrowed his eyes. “It was never my choice. You disappeared.”
Maddie fought the urge to rear back again—didn’t need a bruise on her head. “You could’ve found me. If you really wanted to.” She frowned at the accusation in her statements. She was long over being crushed he hadn’t come after her, wasn’t she?
Why had this conversation taken such a turn?
It should be about him, the case, his dad.
“You’re so full of shit, you don’t even buy it.” He shook his head and took a step back, running a hand through hair that short hair again.
The cut made him edgier, sexier.
She hated that she’d noticed.
“Look, it’s bad enough we have to work together—”
“Is it?” Gio barked.
“I got over you a long time ago, Nico Giovanni,” Maddie blurted the lie and squirmed as his gorgeous eyes appraised her all over again.
“I’ll prove that’s utter shit. Right. Now.”
“No, you won’t.” Her protest came out as a squeak as he crowded her against the shelf again.
He bumped her breasts and it took all she was made of not to arch into him. Not to slip her arms around his neck. Not to rock her hips into his like she had so many times to see how fast she could get him hard.
Push him away.
Gio dipped down and took her mouth, absorbing her gasp. He coaxed her to open with a mere press of his tongue against her lips.
Maddie let him in, thrusting hers against his as he plastered her to his chest and slanted to deepen the kiss.
She didn’t resist him. She couldn’t.
It’d always been this way with Gio.
She was a puddle with the tiniest brush of his mouth over hers.
His big hands claimed the small of her back and her ass, flattening her breasts into him and urging her hips flush to his.
She was grateful he was holding her up, because she would’ve been on her ass on the storage room floor otherwise.
He kissed her expertly, deeply, like no time had passed.
Desire shot low and hot, and her sex was pulsing for him, begging for what she hadn’t had in more years than she could count.
Maddie had had a few lovers since Gio, but none that’d ever come close to making her feel like he did, and her body remembered. Wanted. Seared for more.
“Oh God, Maddie,” he breathed against her mouth, then kissed her again, this time softer, tenderly and it made her tummy flip-flop.
It also snapped her back into her own skin. She couldn’t deal with the appearance of emotion from him.
He didn’t really give a shit about her.
She shoved him away, and raised her arm for a slap.
Gio caught her wrist when her palm was less than an inch from his too-handsome-for-his-own-good face. He smirked.
She’d expected shock, or anger that she’d been about to hit him, but the humor on that kiss-swollen mouth made Maddie want to shoot him, or at least glue her knee to his balls.
He was so damn sexy.
Even when she wanted to maim him, she could see it.
She wanted him.
Dammit.
“You still want me, Madison Granger. Deny it all you want with words, but your body screams louder.”
He still held her wrist in a tight grip, but Gio wasn’t hurting her. He panted as hard as she did. She cursed him to hell and back, but she couldn’t say it aloud.
“Let me go,” she was finally able to growl, but her chest heaved as she fought for normal respiration. “Or I’ll kick your favorite body part.”
He chuckled, and damn if his grin didn’t make her burn for him even more. “If I recall, it’s your favorite body part, too.” He had the nerve to lift his hips and bring attention to the obvious tent in his jeans.
Damn him.
Heat rushed Maddie’s face, wrapping around the back of her neck and scorching up to her ears. “Go to hell.”
Gio’s face lost his amusement and he sobered. He dropped her hand, but his eyes never left hers. “Been there, done that. It was bad after you left.”
She stilled. “Not my problem.”
Something akin to hurt flashed across his gaze and regret hit her gut.
Her need to throw up a line of self-defense controlled her next statement. “Forget what you think is between us, or I’ll go have a talk with Captain Olinsky.”
Shock, and perhaps fury, reflected from his expression. “Wow. That’s low, even for you.”
The burn of embarrassment flushed away her arousal, and she looked away. He was ri
ght, but she wouldn’t admit it. Maddie fought the need to close her eyes.
Hurting him on purpose was beneath her, wasn’t it?
It’d been bad—really bad—for her for a while too, after they’d ended. She’d had a baby all alone, with only her then-teen sister to help. As much as she loved Jamie, her sibling was no replacement for the man she’d been missing so much she’d been destroyed inside.
The man before her now.
The man she couldn’t go down that path with again.
There was more than just her now.
She had Jake to think about.
Gio stepped back, no longer blocking her way to the only exit of the small room. He suddenly wouldn’t spare her even a glimpse, and Maddie was hit with a second round of guilt.
She wouldn’t apologize.
Not after he’d kissed her against her will.
She ignored the tremors that shot down her spine and the voice that accused her of protesting too hard.
Squaring her shoulders, she strolled out of the office supply room and tried not to slam the door.
Ignored the rush of disappointment when he didn’t come after her.
Again.
Chapter Six
Gian tried not to glance over his shoulder and betray the paranoia eating through his gut as he shoved cash onto a cart destined for one of the many counting rooms. He emptied three duffel bags that carried two hundred thousand dollars, and needed to get it done so he could disappear from an area of the casino he shouldn’t be. Damn place had cameras everywhere.
He’d already had to steal into the main security central and delete footage a few times; a feat not easily accomplished, since the place was occupied by security officers twenty-four/seven. Like most high-dollar successful casinos, the security staff was vast, made up of plain-clothed, suited, and uniformed officers alike. Until a few weeks ago, security had been headed by Dominic, his fiancée’s middle brother, but the younger man had ticked off Daddy Dearest and gotten himself removed from the position.
Unfortunately, Big Tony would likely give him back the job if the idiot groveled. No doubt it’d happen sooner or later. Although, Gian could benefit from that, because the man who’d taken Dom’s place was doing a fine job—something the ne’er do well Giovanni couldn’t manage.
If security was lacking, Gian could get his job done better, of course. He’d have to whisper in the boss’ ear when the senior Giovanni was back at work, or maybe even at a hospital visit. He’d no doubt have to put in an appearance sooner or later, supportive fiancé and all that shit.
He’d rave about what a great job Dom had done, and how he was missed, especially since Big Tony was down for the count. Maybe it would help endear him to the little fucker, who didn’t like him anyway.
Meeting the eldest son—the cop—hadn’t gone well, either. The conceited ass didn’t like him any more than Dom or Sam. Either Elise’s brothers were just that protective of her, or they had great instincts. Neither scenario was fantastic for him.
He could only concentrate on the fact that the patriarch loved him. It was all that mattered, but if the man never came back to work, he’d really have to watch his ass, especially if Elise’s older brother was going to be around more.
In the president’s office, she’d begged him to come back into the family fold, with their younger brother cosigning everything she’d said. It hadn’t gone stellar, but if he knew anything about Italian women, guilt was her weapon of choice. Step aside persuasion, pleading, tears. Enough guilt to make a guy’s gut rot was an Italian woman’s way.
Gian could totally relate. His mother could always freeze him with the barest tremor of her bottom lip. Sometimes even with a smile and no sarcastic inflection.
Of course, the Giovanni children were all half Greek, but what a way to tap into one’s heritage.
He snorted.
The tight stack of bills brought his attention back to his task. Uncle Dino was probably going to call to confirm he’d gotten the money delivery. He had to be done by then and get his ass out of the hallway.
The money cart had been left unattended, and when it was discovered, whoever had left it would get an ass-chewing by the nearest manager for sure. The cart’s attached folder for the paperwork regarding the cash was also gone.
That gave him an idea. Perhaps he could stand by it and wait. Watch for the meandering idiot from security personnel who’d abandoned their duty to take a shit or bang a waitress in the closest bathroom.
He could demand, threaten, act like he’d come upon it by accident instead of having trolled the cameras on the app he’d had a hacker put on his phone so he could prey upon this very opportunity, this careless disregard of rules and regulations; a testament to why Dominic Giovanni had been removed from his position.
Gian always watched the cameras at the casino. Although, it wasn’t always this easy to integrate the money his father’s brother sent in weekly deliveries to be cleaned.
His burner cellphone rang. He jumped and cursed simultaneously. They always scheduled their calls on disposable phones so their conversations would remain untraceable.
Uncle Dino, right on time, if his Rolex knew anything.
He locked the roller door on the money cart and put the phone to his ear.
“Hey, kid.” His uncle’s gravelly voice splashed over his senses, even though it was only two words. He was suddenly homesick for Chicago, even seeing the older man’s beady dark eyes and pock-marked cheeks.
Gian didn’t miss arguments with his father, but he did miss how his uncle had always taken him out for a drink while he smoked cigars and agreed what a dick the leader of the Falcone family could be.
“It’s done.” The confirmation came out on a croak, so he cleared his throat.
“Good.” A pause. “You all good?” The Chicago accent was present in the question, and he was able to smile.
“Yeah. Of course. Have you told him, yet?”
A few heartbeats passed before the man spoke, which gave him the answer he didn’t want to hear.
“It hasn’t been enough time for you to prove yourself. Trust me, paisan.”
“A year isn’t enough time?” he hissed a whisper, in case the recalcitrant security officers came back for the cart.
“Patience. Trust me, nipote.”
Gian growled, but inhaled so he could talk with some semblance of calm. “I want him to know I’m the one handling this operation. It was my idea, my undertaking. I’ve taken all the risk, here. I’ve been doing it. We’ve cleaned a substantial amount, with more to come. It hasn’t been easy, but I’m established. The system is flawless.”
“Yeah, about that…”
He stilled, and gripped the throwaway phone tighter. “What?”
“Other than me, have you had any contact with Chicago?”
Gian frowned. “No. Why?”
“We need to lay low for a while, and now, it’s even more for your benefit if your father doesn’t hear your name, no matter your recent success in cleaning our dough.”
“Why?” he repeated, this time a harsh bark.
“Cesare Fratelli has disappeared. No one can find him, and no one offed him.”
“So…”
“Intel from the cops we have on the payroll say the FBI got him.”
“Motherfucker.”
A humorless chuckle sounded in his ear. “Yeah, nipote. I’ll halt deliveries for a few weeks, maybe a month. I think it’s the smart thing to do. We watch and wait. When we confirm what happened to Fratelli, we can reassess.”
“No. Keep the money coming. There’s no way the old fart would roll on Dad, even if he’s in an eight-by-ten. They go back too far.”
His uncle was silent for a few beats again.
“The smart thing—”
“No.” Gian entered demand-territory again. “I will prove myself. I can do this, and the feds don’t have any ties to me and Fratelli. I’ve been away from Chicago for a year, remember?”
�
�Don’t be a little fool. Your alias—”
“Is a non-issue. Not even Giovanni batted an eye.”
“He’s an idiot. Always was—”
“Follow our schedule. Another two hundred next week.” With his final command, he ended the call, ignoring the flip-flop in his stomach.
If the leader of his father’s CPA firm, which was on the up-and-up, as much as it played with the mob, really had been arrested by the FBI, the guys they had on the inside would find out. A hit would be taken out on the old man, no matter how loyal he had been to the Falcone family.
Gian believed Fratelli wouldn’t talk—the dude was his father’s ride-or-die, but if there was any doubt, the organization would have him killed. Even in prison, guards could be bought and sold like traded cigarettes.
Fratelli and Falcone went back generations. Their many shared skeletons were stuffed in closets, built into walls and drowned at the bottom of local rivers and lakes. If Fratelli decided to be a think-for-himselfer, the issue would be resolved. He might be taken care of no matter what, anyway. His father could be a ruthless bastard.
Maybe this didn’t complicate things for him. He could keep things going, even if Uncle Dino screamed caution. He would show his father he was worthy no matter what, and take down an old enemy, to boot.
With Fratelli no longer in the picture, the Falcone patriarch would be even more grateful to his ostracized son.
Gian would totally do this.
No. Matter. What.
****
Gio spent the next day observing, more than communicating with the taskforce about Maddie’s case. He’d been the quiet guy in the back of the room, listening to the rest of the team talk, strategize, and go over financials that just couldn’t be right.
She hadn’t said much to him, nor did she spare him much attention; like she approved of his minimal involvement. It was probably part acceptance of his disbelief over his father’s guilt, and part because of that kiss.
That perfect kiss he couldn’t quite get out of his mind, despite the shit about his dad and the casino.
He watched her like some stalker, staring at how her body moved in the simple dark jeans and tucked-in black button-down, her gun and badge on her belt just like his.