Page 11 of Debt to the Mafia King
There was a second of silence on the other end of the line. “We have a problem.”
“Of course, we do,” I grumbled with a roll of my eyes. “Am I needed or can I—?”
“You’re needed. They won’t deal with anyone but you. You know how these deals go. It’s Piotre so—“
Yeah, I did. They wanted to meet the man in charge. Just to see if they could outmaneuver me. None of them ever could, but they kept on trying.
And Piotre was the biggest pain in my ass. He thought of himself as a boss. I thought of him as a moron with a crew. Low level, but growing fast.Ivan was right, this would need my attention. Piotre had been trying to take over my territories for years.
“Send me the address, and I’ll be on my way, but this best not take up all of my day, Ivan. Otherwise, what would be the point of you?”
My second in command chuckled. “I’m sure we will have it wrapped up by lunch, Viktor. Then you can go back to your Printsessa. Whoever she is.” His laughter filled my car.
I ended the call before he could say anything else. He might not know about Leah yet, but he knew something was up.
Throwing my phone onto the passenger seat, I let out a groan and pulled back into traffic. I wanted to check on her again, but Leah would still be there when I had dealt with this business.
It wasn’t like she had anywhere else to go, and even if she ran, well, even then I would chase her. I didn’t usually enjoy the chase, but I had a suspicion that it was all going to be different when it came to my red-haired beauty.
The “small problem” Ivan needed help with took all day, and it was no small problem at all. Piotre was pushing for more power, and I refused to give it to him. By the time I let myself into my penthouse, the sun was going down, and my fingers were itching to pull up the cameras and check on Leah. But somehow I managed to stop myself.
Showering and changing my clothes quickly, I finally sank down behind my desk, scotch in one hand, and flicked to her cameras. I couldn’t find her. Her bedroom was empty. I frowned. Where had she gone? She needed to sleep. When she was mine, I would make sure she got adequate rest. My lips curved up in a smile.
She would need all the rest she could get if she was to deal with me.
The smile on my face dropped, and my eyebrows knitted together as I changed the camera. The living room wasn’t empty. There was a man on her couch. A gangly young man with a flop of dark hair wearing a graphic tee and baggy jeans was pulling take-out containers out of a bag and laying them on the coffee table in a way that told me he had done this a hundred times before.
My eyes raked over him, and my hand clenched around my glass.He was too relaxed in her place for my liking.
“Babe? Have you slipped and fallen, or are you coming out to eat?”
Babe? My eyebrows shot up. Had that asshole seriously just called her Babe?
Who the fuck was he? Only I knew who he was. Dion. Her best friend and work colleague. I had visited him only this morning to try and get a read on the man.
I hadn’t thought he was a threat, but now I wasn’t so sure.
“I’m here.” Leah appeared in the doorway. In nothing but a t-shirt that hit her mid-thigh, she was rubbing a towel over her red hair, drying it.
“I’ll grab—”
“Already got them.” The asshole held up some chopsticks for her, and she grabbed at them. Curling her legs under her, she fell onto the sofa next to him and reached for the food.
The movement made the fraying shirt rise higher on her legs, and my eyes glued themselves to her slender thighs. They were slightly tanned, like she had maybe spent some time at the beach last summer.
Instantly, my mind went somewhere else, to pushing her down into the sand and slowly undoing the string bikini that covered her from my mouth. Groaning I reached up to tug at my hair. This woman was like a drug. I hadn’t even tasted her yet, and I was already addicted. She made me act like a horny teenager and not like a grown man.
“You’re really tense, Babe,” the douche in a t-shirt said, and I gritted my teeth as his hands reached out and started to massage her calf.
Leah sat back and let him touch her. Her eyes were soft, and her face was slack as he worked her muscles, and she shoveled noodles into her mouth.
Appreciative noises left her mouth, and I wasn’t sure why.
It had better be because of the food. Rage bubbled up, white hot and violent. He had his hands all over my woman. It didn’t matter to me that she didn’t know she was my woman yet. She would soon, and so would he.
When I snapped off each one of his fingers and fed them to him, hewould know who she belonged to.
“I’m ok.” She slipped her legs from his hands and sat forward. “I’m just a little—” she stood up and stretched, her t-shirt rising up so much that I caught a glimpse of the curve of a round ass encased in white cotton.
