Page 3 of Mafia Princess

“Lay off it, Stone.” Anderson glowered at me with his blue-green eyes while strands of his light brown hair fell across his forehead. There was a yellowish tint on his cheeks which wasn’t there the last time I saw him.

“You should really lay off the scotch that’s burning that hole in your liver. Maybe then you’d be able to put in a decent day’s work every once in a while.”

“I would say ‘fuck you,’ but something tells me you’ve been hearing that a lot lately.”

I shrugged. “You’ve got that right. Those words don’t have quite the same effect anymore. It’s like fucking a prostitute. The first time is exhilarating since you know it’s so wrong and dirty. But after a while, it just gets boring and bland—unmemorable.”

Anderson’s expression remained stoic. Nothing fazed the old bastard. He was like a rock, granite that had been around long enough to prove it would never crack. And unfortunately, I’d been stuck with him as my partner for the last few months. What these assholes didn’t seem to realize was I only needed one partner—Lucy. She was sleek, powerful, and gave me an instant hard-on whenever I touched her. She was also my Glock 22, safely tucked away at my side.

“Are you still investigating the Valentis?”

Not only was Anderson an asshole, but apparently a straight shooter too.

I crossed my arms and placed my feet on my desk. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m telling you, Stone, leave that shit for the feds, okay? Let it go.”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, Elsa. Just don’t go around erecting any ice castles, would you? This place is fucking cold enough during winter as it is.”

Anderson continued to stare at me, unblinking. One day I would make this man crack, even if it was the last thing I did.

“Stone.”

Oh, God. The sound of that voice gave me an instant headache. I groaned as I pulled my palm down my face, thinking I’d rather be having a conversation with Satan right about now.

I turned in my seat and stared up at a tall, middle-aged man with a serious widow’s peak going on. “Commander Peephole.”

“It’s Pipole. As in Pi-po-lee.”

“Damn, I just can’t get it right.”

CommanderPipoleplaced his hands on his waist. “It’s been three years, Stone. You should get it right by now.”

“It’s a mental block, I swear.”

“Cut the crap, Stone. Now, please enlighten me as to why there’s a certain Gio Boroni bleeding all over my goddamn floor.”

“Not my fault he’s dumb enough to walk into a wall.”

Grooves formed on his forehead. “Three times?”

“Yup. The dumb bastard walked into a pole as well. He should get his eyes checked. I think his sight might be out of whack.”

“You’re hanging on your last damn thread around here, Stone. Right now, I want your badge so much I can taste it.” He leaned down, putting his face closer to mine. “So keep on fucking up. I dare you. I don’t care if you solve more cases than anyone else around here. Give me just half a reason, and your ass is out that goddamn door so fast vertigo will be your friend for a month. Do I make myself clear?”

The urge to punch this man in the face was so overwhelming, it was like finally feeling that welcome pressure after being constipated for a week.

“Crystal clear, Commander,” I replied, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I’d never been the kind who did well with commands and orders. Fuck knew why I decided to become a detective.

“Good.” Commander Pipole turned and walked off, his expensive navy-blue suit making it easy for anyone to see exactly who was in charge around here.

I turned back to Anderson and noticed him staring at me. True as fuck, a grin started up at the corners of his mouth, almost reaching his eyes.Seriously? That was all it took to crack any kind of expression onto this guy’s face? Un-fucking-believable.

I leaned over my desk. “You know, we’re supposed to be partners, and among other things, that also entails you having my back.”

Anderson’s dark brows slanted down. “If I remember correctly, you said you didn’t need a partner. Your exact words, I believe, were, ‘I don’t need no motherfucking middle-aged bastard being my partner.’ Ring a bell?”

“None whatsoever.”

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