Page 33 of Ruthless Sinner

Vincent had his own lovely little apartment, but I wasn’t going to go there. Partially to show him that I could be more courteous than he was, partially because he would probably be in his office at this time of the morning, and partially because Marla Preston looked like she was very much the type to murder a man for disturbing her sleep.

Okay, so I was a little scared of my future sister-in-law. Sue me.

Vincent was indeed at his office, as was Toby, apparently going over the accounting books. Good luck to any poor idiotic sap who tried to skive and make a bit of money on the side in the Russo family. Vincent would find out so fast he’d have you in the Hudson with cement shoes before you even had the chance to say ‘mea culpa’.

He looked up as I entered and Toby wisely beat a hasty retreat. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“You’re always in the middle of something. Especially with the wedding. How many cake tastings are you going to today?”

Vincent looked up at the ceiling like he was asking God for patience. “Marco…”

I straightened my shoulders. “You want me to be serious.”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

My brother’s lack of faith in me hurt. It hurt a whole fucking lot. I was willing to take a knife or anything else for him but he couldn’t even give me the courtesy of warning me there might be a knife coming?

Normally I would’ve kicked whatever woman was with me out of the apartment so I could have my privacy. I wasn’t about to let just anyone see me like that. But Kennedy wasn’t just anyone. She’d been different from the start, and she’d stuck up for me to my brother. She’d done it in a way that Vincent would respect, too, none of the yelling and lecturing that would’ve turned him right off. Instead she’d stayed calm, showed him how smart she was. Hadn’t looked at all ruffled by a mafiacapoin her space.

I’d been so damn proud of her in that moment. I knew I’d picked the right girl to finally give this relationship thing a shot with.

When I’d gone into the shower, I hadn’t expected her to join me. Kennedy was good about giving me space. But instead she slipped in with me and just… held me. She hadn’t tried to talk to me, or ask me how I was doing, or force me to address the disappointment and hurt that I felt.

She’d just been there. Supporting me. Her arms had been comfort enough, and I’d felt supported for the first time in years instead of just… constantly alone, looked down on by my father and ignored by my brothers.

I tried to hold onto that feeling as I faced Vincent now. “Look, I know that I haven’t done a lot to prove to you that I’m responsible. But I’ve been trying to improve things. This thing with Kennedy? I want to try and make it last. I don’t know what it is with her, but I want her around more than I’ve ever wanted any other woman. And I want you to trust me. But I can’t prove to you that I’m trustworthy and responsible if you don’t give me a chance.

“You say you trust me enough to have me be the one to run these packages because you know I’m the best but—I can’t do my job well if I don’t know what the hell I’m protecting or running. You gotta let me in on this or I’m gonna screw up because I don’t know enough.”

Vincent stood up and leaned forward on his desk. “I want to trust you, Marco, but this is dangerous. I’m playing a difficult game here.”

“Screwing over the Russians? Kennedy hit the nail on the head there, didn’t she? She’s smart.”

“Possibly too smart. Can you really trust her, Marco? Did you run a background check on her?”

“Jade runs a background check on all her girls, she’s clean. Besides, you picked Marla Preston, you can’t judge me on my choice.”

“At least I picked a mafia girl. You don’t know where this Kennedy could be from.”

“But was she right?” I demanded. “Was she right about your plans?”

Vincent sighed. “Sort of. She was on the money for the information she had at her disposal and what she thinks is exactly what I want the Russians to think—that I’m striking a deal with the Chinese under the table through their fake-luxury-goods operation.”

“What are you really doing?”

“Oh, just providing enough funds for the indentured people to buy a way out of their contract,” Vincent said innocently. “All marked with the Petrov symbol, of course.”

The way that many mafia gangs had operated over the years was to pay for a person to come to America, but then they had to work off the debt that they owed. It was miserable, and many never worked that debt off at all. It was indentured servitude. I called it slavery and I was damn glad that Dad didn’t operate that way.

“So the Chinese think that the Petrov family is releasing all of their work force to cripple their operations through mass walkouts,” I said. “And the Russians think that the Chinese are scheming behind their backs with… us?”

“Well, not withus…” Vincent smirked. “The Caruso family’s been getting a little uppity. I had Toby leave a few breadcrumbs. The Russians knowsomeone’sfucking with the Chinese trying to undermine the Petrovs but they don’t know who. If they’re smart, they’ll follow that trail and figure out it’s the Carusos.”

“And if they’re not smart?”

“Not my problem, they can blame whoever they want. As long as the delivery guy isn’t caught, we’re in the clear. And you don’t get caught.”

No, I didn’t. Ever.

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