Page 8 of Dirty Deeds

Swallowing against the lump in my throat, I cross my arms against my chest.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, Mr. Scotto.”

He brings his hands together and cracks his knuckles.

“Wolf,” he growls. “My name is Wolf.”

Funny, I specifically remember him telling me and Brent not to call him by his road name. He gave us a whole spiel on how Wolf is a name reserved for his enemies and went on to say we were his allies. People fighting the good fight for a good cause. Helping others and serving our community.

I’m not sure what changed, but I’m terrified to find out.

“I like to think of myself as a reasonable man, someone who gives people the benefit of the doubt. I’m not a man who acts on impulse and vengeance isn’t something I thrive on anymore. But when you come for my children—dead or alive—all that seems to fly out the window and the monster that I keep buried deep inside of me can’t be tamed.”

“I don’t know where this is going but—”

He cuts me off, his light eyes darkening as they glare at me.

“When you and that ex-husband of yours came to me I thought it was a little strange. Here you were, freshly divorced, presenting a united front, but only days before you were hanging on my son’s dick.” A gasp flies out of my mouth, and he quirks an eyebrow. “What? You think I didn’t know about your night with my Enzo? Sweetheart, I have security cameras all over Kate’s. I know what time you got there, how long you sat in the car before Enzo took you out and brought you inside, and I know how fucking long you stayed locked in that apartment with him. The apple didn’t fall too far from the tree. My son has a horrible track record with the ladies, so I figured you dropping that check in my hand meant one of two things. Either you were looking for more than one night and thought donating your settlement would catch Enzo’s eye and he’d call you for a repeat, or you were a one and done type of gal who slept with my son only to get your ex pissed. Whatever the case, I didn’t care because Enzo is more than capable of handling his own affairs and that chunk of change did a world of good for the kids over at Frankie’s House.”

I don’t know what shocks me more—how poorly he thinks of me or the fact he knows I spent the night with his son.

“Mr. Scotto…er, Wolf, I…I think you have the wrong impression.”

“Apparently, I do because it never crossed my mind that you would sleep with my son just to worm your way into a non-profit so you and your husband could embezzle money.”

What in God’s name is this man talking about? Me, embezzle money? That’s not my style, hence the initial donation to his charity. I didn’t want a dime of Brent’s money. If I’m not earning it, then I’m not taking it.

I don’t bother to hide the fact I’m insulted when I finally find the nerve to speak.

“Wait just a minute, you can think whatever you want about me when it comes to your son, but I won’t have you spewing lies about the donation to your organization. I pledged and donated my entire divorce settlement because regardless of what transpired between me and Enzo, I genuinely believed in the mission statement of Frankie’s House and wanted to help. I asked Brent to support the cause and after all the good publicity his campaign got from my initial donation, I didn’t have to twist his arm. Come to think of it, we didn’t have to twist your arm all that much when we proposed a partnership either.”

“That’s before I found out you were using Frankie’s House to scam innocent people into donating money to your own fucking pocket.”

Rage washes over me and suddenly whatever fear I had for the man in front of me evaporates.

“Tell me, toots, how much of those donations went to this fancy pad you got here. Better yet how many silent auctions did you hold under the guise that the funds would be donated to Frankie’s House only to send the proceeds to your brother’s commissary account?”

My face pales at the mention of Derek.

“Didn’t think I knew about that either, did you?” He barks out a laugh, but there is no humor in his eyes as he narrows them and takes a step forward, closing the distance between us. “Twenty-five years is a pretty hefty bid, and it can get real lonely in there. Dangerous too.” He pauses, cocking his head to the side. “I’d be happy to send some friends to pay him a visit.”

I may have spent the better part of my adult life in Brent’s shadows, but I’m not some naïve woman who can be threatened. I know what happens in prison. I’ve heard the stories and I know a man like Wolf doesn’t send his friends in empty-handed. They carry handcrafted weapons and deliver death sentences to men who aren’t on death row.

“Leave my brother out of this,” I warn even though my voice shakes. “I don’t know if what you’re insinuating is true—”

He cuts me off.

“Oh, it’s true, darlin’, and if you want me to leave your brother out of this, then you’re going to help me take down Matthews. Election day is coming and it’s high time someone exposed that man for the cunt that he is.”

No one has a poorer opinion of Brent Matthews than me, but for my own personal reasons I choose to ignore that because my brother’s life is riding on the outcome of this election. If Brent doesn’t win the congressional seat, he won’t ask the governor to pardon Derek.

“Look, Wolf, I swear, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t collect the money raised from the auction. I don’t even write the checks.”

He stares at me quietly for a beat and I take that as my cue to continue.

“If there is money missing…funds that were pledged but not received…I will find out and I will make it right.” My voice shakes as I plead with the man, “I swear to you, I will make it right, just please leave my brother alone.”

“You got twenty-four hours,” he growls.

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