Page 20 of Precious Hazard

“Don’t ever hang up on me again.”

“Noted.” After disconnecting the call, I turn off the phone completely. I can’t deal with this asshole right now, not when we might be facing a debacle at the club.

Over the years, I’ve asked Drago several times to allow me to oversee Naos’s accounting, but apparently, I’m not responsible enough. Can’t say I blame him for being reluctant, considering my track record. Pretty much at every job I’ve had, I somehow fucked up. Dealing with people is really not my thing. Words, on the other hand, and numbers, those are putty in my hands. And, I’m excellent at spotting inconsistencies.

The first folder I dive into contains copies of invoices from our suppliers. Alcohol distributors. Produce wholesalers. The list goes on and on. These are mostly our partners who inflate their prices, allowing us to show greater expenses on the P&L statements. At a quick glance, everything appears to be in order. Still, I pull up each invoice for the current year and track it against our main database. Once I’m done with kitchen and bar records, I move to guest services, diligently reviewing booth reservations and nightly cover charge intakes.

With IRS CI Agents on our doorsteps, it’s likely they are looking at tax evasion or money laundering. Keva handles the money laundering through the club and has been doing it foryears. She’s great, but in recent months, she’s been stretched too thin. What if she missed something? Drago could be in serious trouble.

Halfway through the stack of February receipts, there’s a knock on my door.

“Tara.” Jelena pokes her head in, holding up her phone.

“Not now.”

“Um… I have Arturo DeVille on the line for you.”

My head snaps up. “How the fuck did he get your number?”

“No idea, babe. But he doesn’t sound happy.” She throws the phone at me, and I nearly fall off the bed trying to catch the thing.

“Um. Some privacy, please?”

“Absolutely.” She gives me a wink. “Lover’s quarrels are the cutest.”

I groan. More than half of my brother’s crew lives in this house. That’s over fifty people under the same roof. Which means, about twenty seconds after the arrival of the first bouquet from Satan, every single person knew I was “dating” him.

“What?” I snap into the phone.

A thick, throaty sound comes from the other end of the line.

“Did you just growl at me, DeVille?”

“You have three minutes.” A pause. “To get your ass downstairs.” Another pause. “Or my friend from the IRS Criminal Investigation Division will start asking the kinds of questions no one at Naos wants to hear.”

“You bastard! You sent them?”

“I figured you’d need an incentive,” he snaps. “Three minutes, Tara.”

Nothing but dead air greets me after that not-so-veiled threat. I glance at the phone, confirming what I already knew.Call endedis flashing on the screen. All I can do is grit my teeth so I won’t scream in frustration.

I hate you, Arturo DeVille!

“Everything okay, Mr. DeVille?” Riggo asks from the driver’s seat.

“Yup. Fucking perfect.”

I throw the phone onto the plush, leather seat cushion and squeeze the bridge of my nose. No other person in my thirty-six years has ever made me lose my shit as fast as that insufferable woman.

“You sure? You have a very strange look on your face. Maybe you’re experiencing side effects after that blood donation? My sister told me it could happen, especially if they take too much…”

I groan inwardly. The only reason I made Riggo my driver while my license is suspended is that I didn’t want to waste anyone else on this stupid job. The kid is eager to help out, but he’s a royal pain in the ass who talks all the damn time. Hissister works at the clinic with Milene Ajello, and that somehow led to the boss asking me to find a job for the guy.

“…such a noble act. Saving the world one drop at a time, yeah? I heard Dr. Ilaria say you do it regularly. She says your O negative blood saves a lot of our guys. Especially with some of them getting shot so often and all that. Hey, do you know who’s going to get your blood next?”

“You. Unless you stop talking.”

“Oh. Okay,” he chokes out. “Um… So, where are we headed from here?”

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