Page 30 of Dangerous Games

“Gallagher has to die…”

“I know.”

She vanishes into the hallway, and I sip my drink. I’m under no illusion that things will be easy. This is the messiest the family business has ever been, and I’ve brought more mess to it by bringing the Slaters in. I can’t—won’t—let anyone touch her, but if Jimmy doesn’t get his head out of his ass and do something right, he is going to die. The blame lies squarely on his shoulders, not mine, but Nanette won’t see it that way.

“Sir,” Mika says from the doorway, “you have a call from Sven. Says it’s urgent and he needs to speak with you.” She waves a phone in the air, and I nod.

“Tell him I’ll call him in a half hour. I’m enjoying my drink.” I raise my glass and she nods, backing away. I know he’s going to light me up about Jimmy and I want to be calm about it. I have to think things through before my temper gets the better of me. Sven knows someone is out for me, but neither of us know exactly who yet. For now, that remains my secret—or Jimmy’s rather.

For now…

That little weasel is going to start talking or I’m going to cut his tongue out myself. No need for Sven to get involved. Either way, Nanette is mine and I won’t live without her now. It’s rare to find a woman who sees you for exactly who you are and doesn’t shy away, even when you show her you are a beast. I am never going back to street whores ever again.

18

NANETTE

Idozed off earlier this afternoon, and I awake to the sound of the door clicking shut. I jerk upward, looking around the room. Dominic is here, standing by the door. He looks stern, as if something has gone wrong. His normal blue suit is replaced with black turtleneck and slacks. He looks like he’s dressed to go on a stakeout or heist. But he looks good, the color black suits his complexion well.

“Time to get ready,” he says, walking into the room. He moves straight for the dresser where he opens drawers and begins pulling clothing out. I rub my eyes and yawn. The afternoon nap made me a bit groggy, but I’m sure once I wake up fully, I will feel much more alert. That much whiskey always makes me pass out.

“Ready?” I ask, turning so my feet dangle off the side of the bed. I slide off, tiptoes barely touching the carpet as I stretch my arms over my head. The door is fixed, compliments of one of Dominic’s men earlier, while I was still drinking. It took the man less than twenty minutes to swap the door out for a new one, frame and all.

“We were supposed to go to dinner with Jimmy, but he’s refusing to see me in public. Now that my brother, and potentially the mole, knows about me hiring him he’s scared. Probably a good thing. He’s clumsy.” Dominic rifles through my drawers—my drawers? Am I calling this my home now? I stand and walk his direction, noticing he’s selected a pair of jeans and a white top, no bra or panties. Of course, I’m wearing those now, but I know how he likes to watch me dress, or undress rather.

“So where are we meeting him?” I lean on the dresser as he picks up the stack of clothing and hands it to me. I take it, waiting for him to answer. If Jimmy won’t go out, then we should go to him, but if people know about him being involved with Dominic, then it probably isn’t a good idea for Dom to be at Jimmy’s place. It will only bring more attention to him. My goal is to keep him safe.

“You’re going in alone. I’m not going. My cousin will drive you.” He walks to the bed and sits down then runs a hand through his loose dark hair.

“Me alone?” I shudder with fear. “That sounds dangerous. What if someone is watching and they connect me to all of this? I don’t want any part of this scheme.” I hesitate, fear creeping in. I never in a million years thought I’d be playing the part of messenger for the head of the Bratva, but here I am tangled up in his life so deep I may as well be his drug mule.

“Look, Nanette, lives are on the line here. It’s going to be just like any other day you visit Jimmy. You’ll get a ride into the neighborhood and Red will park. You get out and walk up to Jimmy’s place like normal, then tell him what I have to say.”

I look away from him. I don’t want him to see my fear; he doesn’t like fear. So, I turn my back on him and set the clothes on the dresser while I unbutton my top. It slides from my shoulders and falls to the ground, and I pick up the clean white top Dominic has picked out. It’s a polo with three buttons, a horse embroidered on the left breast. Simple shirt for a simple job, though I wish I wasn’t thinking like this. This isn’t a job; it’s a visit with my brother.

“You are going to do fine, Nanette.”

I tug the shirt on over my head, noticing Dominic’s reflection in the picture frame hanging on the wall in front of me. He’s scowling, probably upset by my fear. I have to look away; I hate that he’s being upset by my emotions. Why do I hate that? What on earth is going on in my brain? I should enjoy this. I shouldn’t care what he thinks or feels, but I do. I care. He’s gotten to me too. I knew I’d gotten to him when he told me this morning that I belong to him now, but this?

I unbutton my slacks and push them down, stepping out of them before picking up the jeans and sliding them on. They’re a perfect fit, once again, and I’m still shocked at how Dominic knew I was this size.

“So, what am I supposed to say to him then?” I zip the jeans and button them, then turn around. Dominic’s eyes flash with lust for a split second, probably because I was in my panties bending over in front of him. It’s the last thing on my mind. I want to see Jimmy, make sure he’s okay.

He bends and picks up the ballet flats I left at the foot of the bed, shoved just beneath the frame. I kicked them off when I climbed in bed to rest. There is no way he could have seen them, not with the way the blanket drapes over the foot of the bed and pooled on the floor. He had to have been watching me sleep on his perverted closed-circuit TV.

“You’re going to tell him exactly what I told you in the garden earlier today. His life is in jeopardy if he doesn’t finish this. The mole may very well know he’s out there hunting for my potential killer. My brother Sven knows, and Red knows. Sven knew there was a mole because we suspected it after Mom’s death. We’ve been trying to root him out ever since. But if they talked to the wrong person about Jimmy, he’s in trouble—”

“You mean, Jimmy’s life is at stake because you fucked up?” I cross my arms over my chest, refusing to take the shoes he is trying to hand me.

“No, Jimmy’s life is at stake because he fucked up. He went snooping in places where my family has surveillance and got caught.” Dominic thrusts the shoes out in my direction, and I take them, then sit beside him.

“So what? He just kills the mole, and the rest of the family backs off? Like how will he prove he killed a bad guy then and not just a member of the family? Won’t the family come after him?” I shudder to think what will happen if Jimmy goes through with this. He should just leave town now before it’s too late.

“I will make sure things go down how they are supposed to. When the mole is dead, Jimmy and I will have all the evidence we need to prove to my siblings and father that it was necessary. The family will be scarred but it will be in the interest of keeping us together.”

I slide on one shoe then the other and rub my sweaty palms down the fronts of my thighs. I’m nervous, probably a good thing. If I was cocky, I’m certain I would end up causing problems. Something tells me that everyone in this family is always on edge, always nervous. That doesn’t make for very long life expectancy, what with heart disease and stroke due to high blood pressure and high stress levels.

“One more thing,” he says, reaching into his pocket. He extracts a small silver bracelet. It has one simple blue stone as a charm dangling from the chain. It’s pretty, but not a fashion statement.

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