Page 19 of Blood on Ice

She frowned. “Maybe you should stay in tonight and get some sleep. You know how Dom feels about you being focused on your work.”

Pops was really big on focus and had no idea how to have any fun. But that shouldn’t mean I couldn’t have a life. “I’ve got things under control.”

She raised her brows.

“That’s all, Lonnie.”

“Sure, but if you need to talk later….”

I sighed, she really meant well. “Thanks. I’ll ask if I need something.”

“Do that.”

I actually considered calling her back and spilling everything, but she’d think I was crazy. Anyone I told would think I was crazy, except maybe Devil. I was fairly sure that meant I had actually lost my mind, but I wasn’t going to stop myself. I was going to keep pushing and see what I could get away with. If I could kill someone, ditch the body, and move on like nothing happened, then I could get away with a little light stalking. It wasn’t like I was actually going to hurt Zeke; I was going to make him feel really fucking good.

I took care of some boring paperwork, made a stop to collect a payment from a customer—fortunately for her, she actually had the money—then headed to Cam’s Bakery. I walked behind the counter, helped myself to a cannoli and a coffee, and headed to the office in the back.

“What the fuck?” Cam asked when he saw me waltzing through the kitchen.

“I’ve got a meeting.”

“This isn’t an open buffet.”

“Seriously? You can’t spare one of your famous cannoli for family?”

Cam rolled his eyes. “How long is this meeting going to take?”

“Why? You got business of your own to take care of back here?” We often used a room in the back of the bakery to meet people we hadn’t vetted and didn’t want in our “legitimate” office.

“No, but I’ve got customers, and if things get?—”

“It’s nothing like that, just a basic contract negotiation.”

“There’s nothing basic about this family’s business.”

I laughed, and he flipped me off as I disappeared into the office. I’d polished off the cannoli and most of the coffee when there was a knock on the door that opened into the alley behind the bakery. At least the guy knew how to follow instructions.

“It’s open,” I called.

The knob turned slowly. Oh good, a nervous one. That would make this go much better. Nothing was worse than assholes who thought they were entitled to money or the ones who thought they had to act as tough as me to be taken seriously.

I was typing a message on my phone as the door creaked open. When I looked up, my mouth dropped open.

Zeke stood there staring at me.

He looked fucking delicious in a pair of tight, worn jeans, a black T-shirt, and his black leather jacket. I’d only ever seen him in hockey gear or a team shirt and jeans.

For a moment I thought he’d decided to track me down. Then I realized he was the one who needed money.

He neededmymoney. I smiled. “What can I do for you?”

“You…you work for the Marchesis?”

How remiss of me. I should have told you my full name. I held out my hand for him to shake. “I’m Vito Marchesi.”

“No.”

“I wouldn’t say that to my father. He might take issue with you.”

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