by Olivia Deici
And I had no doubts that it would be hot.
Wrestling with whether to wear a suit or work out clothes, I decided on the former. I'll go for a run or go to the crossfit gym tonight.
I arrived to her office forty-five minutes later with the tow truck. Fucking South Florida traffic. It was nearly eight in the morning. Something told me she was probably already seeing patients.
I signed off on the car and the tow driver went on his way. Walking into the lobby, I took note of the tight but comfortable set-up. It was completely full of patients. They all looked at me as if I didn't belong. Her patients' ages ranged from a baby to an elderly woman. There was another crying baby and a toddler throwing a tantrum.
“I just want to speak to her!”
I looked over at the receptionist. The man in front of her was inappropriately loud and in her face.
“I told you already, Mr. Parada, your wife isn't here. You need to leave.”
Parada. Not a very common last name and I knew a few. They ran with the Northside MC. We were tight with them. I'll have to speak to Miguel, the president.
The problem with Izzy's building is that it sat in the middle of many territories. Whatever family gained it, stood to have more power and control. Izzy and her building had something in common- both were hot pieces and sought be me.
“Not her. That nosy bitch doctor!”
I felt my blood start to boil. Did Izzy have other doctors here? I got the feeling that she didn't.
Was he calling my Izzy a bitch?
“Dr. Laurenti has a full day of patients. You don't have an appointment or emergency.”
He slammed his hand down and cleared the top of her desk. Everything crashed on the floor. I shot to the front.
“What is going on here?”
I asked the receptionist. She was in her mid-fifties, and her face had gone as white as some of the locks of hair on her head.
“Bro, fuck off. This ain't none of your business.”
He slammed his hand down on the desk and pointed downwards.
“You tell that bitch to come the fuck out and speak to me.”
I snapped. Undoing my tie and collar roughly with one hand, I had him by the throat and pushed him against the wall where he hung a few inches off the floor. I had nearly a foot on this asshole and about fifty pounds.
“What the fuck! Do you know who the fuck I am!”
I took my sunglasses off and got in his face. My nose was a hair’s breadth away from his.
“Yes. But do you know who the fuck I am?”
His eyes flickered to the tattoo I had on my neck of the “Z” with a dagger going through it and a crown on top, designating me as Zambrano. The crown made it known that I was blood kin, and therefore high up in the chain of command.
The color leeched from his face.
“You don't fucking come in here and disrupt this business with your stupid shit drama. You don't fucking threaten women. You don't fucking call that doctor anything but her name. In fact, you don't call her at all, and if you come back here again, you're going to fucking pay for it,” I leaned close to his ear, “with blood.”
I eased back and let go. He crumbled to the ground before getting up on his feet.
“I'm sorry, Romano…ehh…Mr. Zambrano. She just fucking-”
So he knew of me.
“I don't want to fucking hear it, or I swear I'll go to Miguel. Actually, I'm going to have a little chat with him and ask why the hell one of his guys is harassing a doctor at a community clinic. Get the fuck out of here and don't fucking come back.”
I saw anger flash on his face and his eyes iced over. He might not like what I said but he wouldn't step on my feet. We were higher on the food chain.
And I knew he knew my reputation. The street one.
He straightened his clothes angrily and looked over to his right down the hallway. I saw the fury in his eyes directed there and I looked.
Izzy stood motionless, worry on her face. It had gone pale, too, like the receptionist's.
Parada strode out like he owned the building. I walked towards Izzy, blocking her from the waiting room's view.
“Thank you.”
Her words were soft but edged with worry.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes went from my chest to my eyes.
“Are you ok?”
Her nod was slight. I turned around to the receptionist.
“She needs a few minutes.”
She snapped out of her stupor and nodded agreeably.
“Of course. Dr. Laurenti, take the time that you need. They will understand.”
Izzy walked around me and went to the receptionist. She placed her hand gently on the older woman's forearm.
“Are you ok, Marta?”
Marta placed her hand on Izzy's and patted it.
“I've seen worse and been through worse. These gray hairs are not only due to age.”
Izzy smiled sadly and turned to walk down her hallway. I followed. She stood by as I entered her office and closed the door after me. She walked over to her desk and sunk in her chair, sighing.
“You need to have security.” I sat down across from her.
She groaned and spread her arms wide. “Roman, does it look like I can afford security?”
“This isn't something to sacrifice or negotiate with, Izzy. It should be a top priority.”
She looked at me, a seriousness I hadn't seen in her eyes before then. I'd so far only seen anger, sarcasm, intelligence, humor, and passion.
“I run a clinic on few grants. Every penny goes to it. Every. Penny. I barely take a salary.”
I was getting pissed. I understood her devotion, but I'd be damned if it jeopardized her safety.
“The Zambrano Corporation will make a donation then. I don't carry checkbooks-”
She laughed and I was taken back. It had notes of sarcasm and hysteria.
“Roman, your family wants my building. That would be against your goal. If anything you'd want to spook me and have me feeling scared, forcing me to sell the building.”
I looked her solidly in the eyes. “I would never do that to you.”
She closed her eyes briefly.
“Your safety is most important. We'll address the other shit another time.”
She shook her head. “No.”
I growled. “Damn it, woman. Why are you so fucking stubborn?”
She looked at me pointedly. “Ditto.”
“What is it? Pride? Pride will mean nothing if that asshole comes back, or another, to harm you. You can't carry pride to the grave, Izzy.”
“It's fine, Roman. That was my DV patient's husband.”
“Fuck me. And that's supposed to make it better? He's a fucking gangster, Izzy. He's in a motorcycle club- an MC.”
“Glass houses, and stones, Roman. And I know what an MC is.”
That made me pause. “What the fuck are you hinting at, Izzy? You forget I don't do subtleties.”
“Your family. They aren't too far removed from,” she made air quotes, “'gangster' status.”
“Just what the fuck do you think you know?”
“Such language from a polished lawyer.”
I pulled a face. “We have a rep for shit coming out of our mouths. I feed the stereotype. So what?”
She laughed and I cracked a smile.
“So, why is my building so important? It's not like I put it up for sale. I've been here a while. I don't get why I'm getting these solicitations.”
She caught me off guard with the change in subject. My phone rang. I popped it out of my jacket pocket. Taking a look at the number, I said, “Don't think I don't know what you're doing.”
I sent the intrusive call to voicemail. “We’re not done talking about security. As to why the solicitations, one family found out another was offering, and that's why you have been, presumably, inundated with offers. They all want this building. In terms of your building, it's in a prime location.”
Her exhale was loud. �
�The inner city?”
“It's what surrounds it that is key.”
“Stop talking in riddles.”
“Fine. Let me guess- you've received offers from us, the Zaitsevs, the Semenovs, Callaghans, Dragushas, and the Fiores.”
I saw her stiffen at the mention of the Italians. What the fuck was that about?
“Why would you mention the Fiores?”
Her voice had a slight tremble to it. My eyes narrowed. Her question wasn't an innocent one wanting general information. That question was as loaded as the piece I carry.
My eyes narrowed.
“Why are you interested in the Fiores out of all he names I mentioned?”
She exhaled heavily through her nose. “Just tell me, Roman. It's for a friend.”
“My ass.” I continued to stare at her.
“Please.”
Her whisper was soft and had a desperate note to it.
“I thought the Fiores were in New York.” She tried to hide the fear in her eyes but I saw it.
“Did they threaten you?”
She clenched her hands and jaw. Her nostrils flared.
“Damn it, Roman. Tell me.”
My gaze was unwavering.
“I will tell you this and no more. We don't involve women in business even if the women seem to know more than they let on. And you will eventually tell me why you're so interested.”
I waited for her nod.
“It seems Don Fiore wants to branch out. His second oldest son is down here trying to grab up territory.”
“Marcelo.”
She whispered his name but she wasn't looking at me and her head definitely wasn't in the room with me. I'm not sure she even realized she said his name. I didn't like her tone, either. It held a note of familiarity to it, and fear, and it bothered the fuck out of me. Was he an ex of hers? She would continue to deny or evade whatever I asked, so I just kept quiet. I'd look into this myself.
“Did you receive an offer from them?”
My question brought her out of her thoughts.
“I haven't received an offer from the Zaitsevs or Fiores.”
I shook my head with an incredulous grin on my face.
“So you received one from the Semenovs but not the Zaitsevs. That's backwards, Izzy.”
My mind was occupied on the Italians- why hadn't they sought her building out?
“How so?”
“The Zaitsevs were more reasonable and used adhere to the code. The Semenovs demand and take without asking. Don't trust any of the Russians.”
She shrugged. “That's what's been happening. Why do you speak in past tense? The Zaitsevs are no longer like that?”
I held my hand up. “Again, family business. Even if I wanted to tell you, I couldn't, and I don't want to tell you.”
“Why?”
“No women in the family business. It's a sacred rule, Izzy. For your protection.”
She rolled her eyes. “I'm not some twit, Roman. I know the city has several mafia families.”
That rose a bit of the hair on my neck. Hopefully that was all she knew. A woman like Izzy shouldn't be exposed to that side of life. If I were a better man, I'd leave her the hell alone.
But I wasn't.
And I'm not.
I fucking want her.
“You shouldn't know shit about that world.”
I didn't know if it was me, but it looked like she was hiding something.
“Stay away from them all, especially the Russians.”
She studied me for a moment. “What about the Albanians?”
“What about them?”
“You warned me against the Russians. What about the Dragushas?”
I shrugged. “They, and the Italians, observe the old world rules. There's an honor code.”
“Even amongst mobsters.”
I smirked. My fucking cell rang again. I checked the number and sent it off voicemail.
“How many calls do you get a day? Scratch that, an hour.”
“Too many. Back to the original topic of conversation. You need security and you need to make sure that asshole doesn't come back here.”
“I'll see what I can do.”
I knew hedging when I heard it.
“Bullshit. Izzy, take care of this.”
“Or what?”
My jaw clenched. “I will.”
She sighed. “This isn't your problem, Roman. It's mine. I have a room full of patients. I have to get going.”
I reached into my pocket to retrieve her key.
“I'll make it my problem.” I placed the key on her desk. “It's taken care of.”
She closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were focused on me. “What else will I find fixed?”
I gave her my winning smile, dimples and all. “I guess you'll have to find out.”
She laughed and got up. I followed suit. When I was at the door to her office, I turned and she was right behind me. I leaned down.
“I want to see you again tonight.”
Her eyes widened. Did she not understand her appeal? To me?
“What? Why?”
I laughed.
“Why not?”
She seemed flustered. “I usually run in the evenings.”
I couldn't help my amusement at the look on her face, as if she hadn't meant to say that.
“I was planning to do the same. Let's have a run then.”
I pushed her up against the wall.
Chapter 11
Izzy
“I usually run in the evenings.”
I'm so damn lame. What the hell was that?
When he pushed me up against the wall, lust rushed through me. The feeling was so foreign to me. Except for last night, I hadn't had this desire for anyone- not even with Elias.
Now that I think about it, I've not experienced anything like this.
Ever.
Our relationship had been easy. The sex had been satisfactory. Elias was comely, in an academic way. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and dressed conservatively. He was safe. I had wanted him, but I never lusted for him.
This was a whole different animal.
I wanted to tear my clothes off and jump on Roman.
I wanted to sink down on him and ride him.
I wanted it up against a wall or on the hood of a car.
This was all so new to me. I was beginning to think I needed a psych eval. Elias and I only had sex in the missionary position and it took a lot of coaxing by him to even get me in the mood. We never even had oral sex. I'm thirty-two, and have never received it or given it. Elias had been my one and only. Truth be told, I thought I was one of those women who could happily go through life with infrequent sex.
I guess not after having met Roman Zambrano.
His words floated through my mind, halting my lustful thoughts. I looked up at him, surprised.
“Why is it so shocking to you that I find you attractive?”
I didn't know how to answer him. It was such a loaded question. I was raised in a very strict family. No boy or man even dared look at me. I was a princess behind a glass cloche. My family, more like my father, was very controlling. His word was law, and his rule was absolute. No one defied him. If it had been up to him, I would've married a close family friend to cement more ties for my family.
He had even set it up.
I remember the day I escaped. I'd had big dreams of med school and a life that didn't include being married at eighteen.
So I left it all behind. The tentacles of his power reached everywhere. Shivering, I halted those thoughts, not wanting to relive the pain and fear.
My one and only boyfriend ended up being my fiancé, and that was only after I left my controlling family behind.
“Get out of your head, Izzy.”
I shuddered, feeling cold and alone again. Roman's hands were on my arms, massaging them through my lab coat.
“Are you alright?”
I smiled but even I knew it must look fake. “Fine.�
�
“I don't buy it, but I won't grill you now. I don't like that look in your eyes.” His hand gently brushed my cheek. “This face is the most beautiful I've ever seen, and should only be covered in a smile that parts storm clouds and draws the sun out.”
My breath hitched. Those were the most beautiful words ever said to me. No one, not even Elias, had ever said anything remotely similar. Roman was so complicated, this gorgeous man in front of me.
I couldn't take the tumultuous, contradicting feelings inside my soul, and I reached up and drew him down. I crushed my mouth to his in a savage kiss that took him as much by surprise as me my own actions. I deepened the kiss and he growled.
I wanted to crawl inside him. He made my shadows recede, and I wanted more of that feeling.
Roman brought me closer. He hefted me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist and kissed him hard. I moaned when I felt his hard length stab me. I fisted his hair and ground down on his length.
His growl touched some unknown primitive female part of me. She awakened from decades of slumber, shook herself out, and howled with the desire Roman had kindled.
His hands wandered and grabbed my ass, and then squeezed my breasts. I couldn't stop the lusty moans.
This man felt incredible. He made me feel incredible.
He broke our kiss and began kissing down my neck. He hit a sensitive spot, and laughed when gasped. I opened my eyes when a crying baby invaded my lust-ridden haze.
“Wait. We can't.”
He groaned and rested his forehead on mine as we tried to catch our breath.
“Fuck, Izzy.” His eyes bored into mine. “Who are you?”
I smiled, but I couldn't help the tension shoot through my body even though I knew it was just a rhetorical question. I knew he noticed, too.
“We'll continue this later.”
He kissed me hard and I returned it.
“We're running later.”
My voice was breathless and I laughed because my reactions to him were so foreign to me.
“Yea. So we get two workouts in.” His wink did me in, and I grabbed him for another hard kiss. Taken aback, he laughed.
Truth be told, I was taken aback myself. I had never responded to Elias the way I responded to Roman.
“What are you doing?”
He was taking his suit jacket off. Electricity took hold of me as his eyes found mine.