Page 30 of The Taker

“Wrong, your job is to do what I say, when I say,” I whisper as I put more pressure into my hold on his neck. Then I shout, “Come in Giuseppe.”

When he comes in, Giuseppe doesn’t even spare Leo a glance, directing his attention toward me like the consummate, boring professional he is. His bland, stern expression has stayed the same since he became my second almost a decade ago, which suits me fine. I have enough pizazz for both of us.

Leo however, averts his gaze and somehow gets even redder in the face. Most likely from his embarrassment—one of my favorite qualities of his to play with. I run my hand up his thigh, my fingers wedging between them.

“What’s in your hand, G?” I ask, gesturing to the chair across from me. He sits down and crosses his ankle over his knee.

He clears his throat before handing me a white envelope. It’s plain, made from a thin commercial paper, the kind you’d buy at a drug store.

“I found it at your front door on my way in for my shift, Mr. Vettore. No address, no stamp.”

It’s sealed using the adhesive on the back flap.So mundane.

“Toy, grab the letter opener from the top right drawer,” I direct him. It's an old fashioned letter opener from my father, one of the few things of his I kept after he passed. Whoever sent this is so fucking pedestrian they can’t even use card stock and a wax seal.Fucking amateurs.

It also means they somehow broke into our heavily guarded building and knew where to drop it off…or that we have a mole who did their dirty work for them.

Before I read the letter, my eyes drop to the signature at the bottom, and I find Ronan’s name. The whole letter is written in a chicken scratch handwriting I have to strain my eyes to read.

Rocco,

I see your new man. Let’s see if he can survive a second bullet.

The Vettore mafia is on borrowed time. When the few band together, we become one of many. Enjoy breathing while you can.

Ronan

How dare that piece of shit even think about my lionheart, let alone threaten him. If he wants to try to be a big, bad gang boss, he’ll sure as fuck regret playing pretend with me. Because I’m the real fucking deal, and I’ll make him pay for this.

Leo inhales sharply again, but not from arousal this time. His back goes ramrod straight, and he audibly swallows. Obviously, my toy is not only a brat, but a nosy brat who reads over my shoulder.

Immediately, I pull up my phone, and check the surveillance feeds from his apartment in my security app. His bedroom, kitchen, and library are all empty. I know his sisters are still at school, which tracks for a weekday afternoon.

“I want more security put on Leo and both his sisters. They don’t leave the house without a guard and one of the Cleavers will stay stationed at the school for the girls.” Giuseppe nods, then pulls his phone out, most likely to start arranging more guards with my cousin Luca, Don Vettore’s middle son that handles security and weapons.

“Thank you,” Leo murmurs sheepishly. I grip the back of his neck firmly to center him like I did last night. Within a few seconds, he seems calmer.

“I have more news, boss,” Giuseppe says after pocketing his phone. There’s a slight smile on his face most people wouldn’t notice, but he’s been my right hand long enough that I pick up the subtle differences on his otherwise stone face.

“Do tell. You always bring me the best news.”

“That’s my job,” he flatly says. “The Cleavers found out through a friend of theirs that Ronan has an off-the-books drug den in Queens. One he never ran past the Vettore famiglia and isn’t paying dues on.”

“Oh no!” I sarcastically cry. “That won’t do.”

“Agreed.” His tone is flat, void of any dramatic flare. “It’s in the basement of a run down corner store. Piero said he’s putting pressure on a store owner to trade use of the space forprotection.”

“Hmmm, do you have the contact information of the store owner?”

“I texted it to you a few seconds ago.” His smile widens, and his warm brown eyes crinkle at the sides. “I also let the Cleavers know to keep tonight open, in case you need them.”

This is why he’s my right hand. Always prepared and thinking ahead.

“Round the crew up. We’re about to have some fun. I’ll see you at our three o’clock meeting,” I dismiss him.

He closes the door on the way out. Leo doesn’t say anything, but I can tell from the distant look in his eyes and his heavy breathing that he’s deep in thought. The kind of thoughts that won’t help in the long run.

I rub the side of his neck with my thumb and wrap my other arm around him, bringing him into my chest. He relaxes a bit, but not much. He sniffles, and a tear runs down his face.

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