Page 2 of Corrupt Desires

“Alright, Em, I get it. Maybe next time then.” The man is delirious if he ever thinks I will say yes to him. He is twelve years older than me for Christ’s sake. Not quite old enough to be my dad, but the age gap still feels significant.

Walking away from James, I get a call on my cell. “Emilia speaking,” I answer, maybe a little harshly. James has me all worked up. Taking a few steps to distance myself from him, I take a deep breath and try to center myself again.

As I wrap up my call, I see James chatting with Matteo. I roll my eyes. James charms anyone he speaks to. I’m convinced it’s only because of his accent. His accent is distinctly English, but softened from his time in the states. I know very little about James and his backstory, but I do know he was adopted with his brother, Kayden, and they had a rough start in life. He has two other siblings, a brother and a sister, who were also taken in by his adoptive parents, though I have never met them before.

Once the cleaners arrive, I make it very clear to them that they’re to make sure they retrieve the bullet that’s been mushroomed into the concrete. Telling them probably wasn’t necessary as they do this all the time, but one can never be too sure.

With the gun in hand, the boys and I take our leave. Matteo and Lorenzo say their goodbyes to James, and I throw him the keys for the second vehicle and a half-wave in goodbye. I am more than ready to be out of here.

Two

James

Iwatch Emilia leave, staring at the door long after she’s gone. That one is dangerous, and dangerous intrigues me.

Emilia is normally the one that answers the call when I need a favor. All I know is that I’ve come to enjoy seeing her spitfire attitude whenever we have to meet for one.

Walking back over to Kayden, I ask him if he’s ready to go. A grunt and a nod being the only response from him, I turn and make my way to the exit. I trust the cleaners to do their job to the fullest, so no need to continue hanging around.

I still can’t fathom the atrocities that Melody had to go through in that building. She looked absolutely damaged to her very core. The physical evidence of her torture was apparent, and I’m sure the psychological torture was just as bad. I’ll have to recommend a therapist to Jaxon for her because I’m sure she’ll need it.

Getting into the car alongside Kayden, we head back home. The hour drive is spent mostly in silence; Kayden is a man of few words. Always has been, even as kids. I would give a penny for his thoughts, though. I mean, it was him that caught the 305 bit about Melody and Damian. I can only imagine what is going through his mind right now. Is he fazed by the treatment that Melody endured? Is he indifferent? Is he quietly freaking out? We had a rough childhood, so I can only imagine this may have been triggering for him.

Dropping Kayden off at his apartment, I head back to my house. I silently wonder why Kayden doesn’t live in a nicer home or even a condo. We all have money, that’s definitely not an issue. I suppose Kayden likes the simpler lifestyle. I know he rarely brings any of his women to his place, preferring to keep his interactions at Club LAX.

Walking into my house, I place the keys in the bowl on the entryway table before taking off my shoes. The Bonettis will figure out some way to get the vehicle from me.

Stopping in the kitchen, I wash my hands and then grab a bottle of merlot, pouring myself a glass. Swirling my wine, I savor the taste as it hits my soft palate. I loosen my tie and lean against the island, the cool marble chilling my heated skin.What a fuckin’ day…

I think back to my exchange with Emilia, pondering why she dislikes me so much. After the very first day I met her, she has always looked at me with hate in her eyes. It’s the exact opposite for me. From the first day I saw her, I have been entranced by her. I take every opportunity I can get to ask her out to dinner, hoping one day I’ll get through her tough exterior and hate-filled eyes enough to take me up on the offer.

Emilia may be young, much younger than me by twelve years to be exact, but she’s a consenting adult at this point, I tell myself. Her twenty-five to my thirty-seven. It could be worse. I could be as old as her father... Besides, her age doesn’t bother me, though, I believe it probably bothers her. But at the same time, I can’t help but wonder why she isn’t tied down yet.

I commonly ask Matteo when I see him for any updates on her dating life. He usually tells me the same thing, “No boyfriends,mio amico.” (My friend.) I wondered for a time if maybe she was interested in women, but she hasn’t had any serious relationships with females either.

When I asked Matteo about this, he assured me that she definitely likes men, even goes out on dates, just not with me, and never anything serious. It wounds me, to say the least. But I do love a good challenge, and I’m determined to get her to agree to dinner. As long as it takes, I’ll keep trying.

Before I can do anything brash, like texting Emilia outside of business, my phone starts ringing. Seeing a private number on the screen, I pick up immediately. “Ciao, capo, what can I do for you?” (Hello, boss.)

“Ciao,James, it’s lovely to hear your voice at a time like this,” says Francesca Bonetti, my boss’s wife and Emilia’s mother.

“What’s happened, Francesca? How can I be of service?”

“Nothing has happened… yet. But I need to get you prepared should anything come of this,” she says with a sigh before she continues. “One of our men crossed over into Romani territory yesterday, and a fight ensued. He escaped with his life, but not before killing one of the Romani sons.”

“Dammit… So what does this mean?” I ask, running a hand through my hair. This is truly not good for the Bonetti family. The ruling Italian families have been at peace for the past fifty years, clear boundaries set in the state for the respective territories and rules that everyone adheres to. My boss and Francesca’s husband, Robert, has been on a slow decline for the past year, and the Romanis have been itching for the chance to take over ever since.

“That’s the thing, they have been oddly silent other than the matter I’m calling you about, James. I am expecting the worst. They could be preparing for war right now for all we know.”

“Ok, so what do you need from me exactly?” I ask, not sure how I come into play in all of this. Normally, I’m their lawyer when one of their people needs representation in the courtroom. I am completely unaware of how I can be of use with a turf war.

“Emilia doesn’t know yet, James, but someone left a severed head on her doorstep. One of my men caught the package on the porch tonight when she was up by you taking care of your favor. I believe they are starting to send their message to us, but I worry about Emilia. She puts forth a strong exterior, James, but I worry for her safety. We took one of their sons, they may very well come for Emilia; a life for a life. You know she is our only child. Not by blood, but our child nonetheless.”

I bristle at the thought of someone harming Emilia and the comment she made about Emilia not being blood. It’s always been apparent to me all these years that Francesca has been the reluctant mother. “What do you want me to do, Francesca? I’m not sure my expertise can be of use in this situation.”

“I just want to let you know the latest developments, in case they do decide to go to the authorities. We will need representation should it evolve into legal proceedings.”

“Absolutely, anything you need. Is Emilia going to be protected, Francesca?”

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