Page 69 of Impenitent Claim

Tullio fondly smacked me on the back and agreed to speak to the don again. “But as my guard, it’s no problem,” he assured me, pulling a plastic key card from his pocket. “Do you know where the Bellagio on Constitution Drive is?”

I took the proffered card and nodded.

“I have a present for you there,” Tullio beamed.

Cosimo let out a disgusted huff and wandered away.

“You’ll have to forgive him, he’s young.” Tullio waved his hand dismissively. “He forgets that I’ve been running the show long before he was a drip on my tip.”

Unable to conceal the flash of annoyance at the familiarity, I turned quickly. I snagged a shirt from the bag and wrenched it over my head. When the underboss first approached me with the offer of sponsorship, I anticipated this very situation and had made provisions for entertaining a lady of the night. It was common for wealthy elites to make sure their fighters werewellprovided for with every conceivable need.

“Room 3054. Order room service, enjoy yourself,” Tullio said. “I’ll expect you to report for duty tomorrow at noon, so there’s plenty of time for you to unwind.”

“Gee, thank you, sir,” I lisped to hide the strain in my voice.

The fool bought it. I left the exhibition quickly, tapping a message into my phone.

***

The special-order sports car purred down the rows of parked cars. The East Coast’s most notorious woman parked in front of me, the shadows from the supermarket’s parking lot falling over her face. Like everything else Sylvia Laurent did, she’d stopped her vehicle on purpose in this spot. Her hair was captured under a silk scarf and heavy shades covered her eyes.

“I must say, I’m delighted to be doing business with you,” the woman mused.

Many years ago, before she built the empire under the heel of her stiletto, Sylvia was just a girl using a different name.

“It’s been too many years, Ilya.” Behind the shades, I knew her one good eye studied me.

“It has, but at least we stay in touch. Thank you for the Fourth of July card and gift. It was unexpected, seeing as we usually only send each other Christmas and birthday cards.” I leaned against the side of her sports car.

Sylvia shrugged. “I heard you were down in the mouth. Figured a surprise might cheer you up.”

“It did. It also made one of the Vlasov boys very,veryjealous.” I patted the sleek finish of the car. “How does this handle, by the way?”

The grin that cracked her polished façade was real enough. “Best damn car I’ve ever driven. Remind me to send you a fruit basket as a thank you.”

“No need,” I chuckled.

Time seemed to stand still as memories rushed to fill the space between us. It seemed the same nostalgia was affecting the businesswoman. An underworld kingpin in her own right, Sylvia was always willing to make a deal.

“What brought you to Jersey, Ilya?” the madam asked softly.

“Destiny.”

Sylvia let out a huff. “I doubt that. But you called me for business—Jerry is about your size and en route to the boutique hotel as we speak. I’ll meet him there with the room key.”

I handed her the plastic card. “He’s to call the room and command her to shut off the lights. The night manager will also shut off the hall lights. He’s to wear a mask and remember to roar when he comes. Dominant—boarding non-consensual. But give the poor hooker a safe word.”

The levels of deception were necessary, but even if Tullio had someone watching the Staybridge to make sure I enjoyed his gift, he wouldn’t have any reason to doubt me.

“She’s not a prostitute,” Sylvia smirked.

I frowned. “My sponsor sent a call girl to reward me for winning the fight.”

That was why I had this arrangement premade with Sylvia. The prostitute was a perk of signing with the underboss. He wanted me happy, but I never wanted to touch another woman. Sylvia’s guy solved that problem.

The grin on the businesswoman’s lips only widened. “I know every lady, gentleman, and other being of the night, friend. This one is none other than a spoilt mafia princess, whose brother runs the Rinaldi Family’s brothel. She’s gone in place of the hooker toexperiencethe Russian bear.”

A cold shudder passed through me. “We need to call it off. She’ll get me in trouble.”

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