Page 50 of Kept

“Thanks for coming out again,” I tell him, sinking into my desk chair.

“Anytime. I’ve been looking at the info you sent me. There are a few businesses of concern. Your father used them to launder money and had been for years. Lately, we’ve shifted the majority of the business to the casino, so your remaining involvement with them is minimal.”

“How much of a concern is this?” I ask.

He quirks an eyebrow. “So that’s the really interesting part. The connection between these businesses and your money is tenuous at best. The businesses themselves would go down, in no small part because you were almost certainly not the only organization they had been working with. When it comes to you, though, any first-year law student would be able to argue this one. I’m not sure what they were trying to do. All I can come up with is that either the police thought this would be enough to authorize a search warrant for more interesting information, which they won’t get because our legit books are well kept and the other books are secured, or their source is actually wanting to get these businesses shut down.”

“Why?” I ask, drumming my fingers on the glossy wood.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Might be a competitor trying to drive out the competition. Might just be pissed off for some reason.”

“Can we remove ourselves from the situation completely?” Marco asks.

Jack nods. “Oh yeah. I already wiped any electronic trace that your family ever did business with them, and clearly going forward, things will continue to be processed through the casino and the nightclubs. You still get the same clean money, but without losing any to the middleman.”

“Okay. Thanks, Jack.”

The young man nods his head and quickly breaks down his computer set up.

Marco strolls over to the bar and pours two glasses of whisky. Handing one to me, he says, “So what do you think? Fishing for a warrant? Or some other bullshit.”

“I’m not entirely sure we’re the target at all. Like Jack said, if they were coming after us, God knows there are better ways to go about it.” I take a sip of my drink.

“You expecting problems?” my brother asks.

“I’m always expecting problems. Martinez says this isn’t going anywhere on a fed level, and it doesn’t sound like there will be a reason for the NYPD to look into it any further.”

Marco swirls his drink contemplatively. “You think it’s related to everything else?” He gestures around the room like he’s indicating the overall state of my universe.

I nod. “Unfortunately, I think so.”

CHAPTER 25

Vincent

I spend the rest of the day trying to catch up on the plethora of stupid business that clogs up any executive’s schedule. For someone who lives the life I do, it’s remarkable how utterly mundane it can get. When I realize it’s well into the evening, I go in search of Sarah.

I find her sitting in the solarium, lounging on one of the patio sofas. She’s sipping from a glass of sparkling wine and reading a book. Her hair is twisted into a bun and held in place by some magical set of chopsticks, and she’s wearing a casual wrap dress, the deep V neck hugging her breasts nicely, the rich burgundy color complimenting her fair skin and hair. I clear my throat so I don’t startle her.

“Oh, hey!” she says, closing the book and putting it on the end table.

“Hey, yourself.” I lean down to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“You were busy today,” she remarks.

I suppress a grin. “Mmm, yeah, my whacking guy called in sick. Had to fill in, really killed my whole afternoon.”

She snorts and plants a gentle backhand across my arm. I catch her wrist and use it to pull her up into my arms.

“Feeling feisty tonight, kitten?”

She looks up at me with her gorgeous, clear blue-grey eyes. The tiniest crinkles in the corners and the slight twitch of her lips give away her mischievous mood. “Oh me? Never.” She places her small hands on each of my shoulders and stretches up on her tiptoes, her slight stature bringing her barely up to my shoulders as she whispers, “I’m a good girl, remember?”

I feel the growl coming out of my chest. “Oh, kitten, I hope you’re not hungry.” I fist my hand into her soft, thick hair and crush my lips to hers, a tiny squeak of surprise sneaking out from her before she parts her lips and starts kissing me back, her body melting against mine.

What little blood I have that hasn’t already poured into my throbbing cock burns through my veins like acid. I force my lips away from hers and tighten my grip on her hair, pulling her head back so she’s looking directly into my face. “Remember, kitten, you did say you were a good girl.”

Her eyes flash, and her lips part, but before she can get her question out, I’ve stooped down and thrown her small form over my shoulder. I hear her shoes fall to the tiled floor.

---