Page 2 of Attraction (Mobsters + Billionaires 3)
“I am aware, Mr. Stefano. I made sure to give the field office your itinerary.”
“I appreciate that, Agent Hughes. What else are they saying?”
“They say you’re trying to spread your organization into Brooklyn.”
I shake my head. “I have no need to spread anything to Brooklyn. Sounds like they’re projecting.”
“That was my guess as well. But you should be careful. You know the brothers made their cousin the new consigliere.”
“I am aware of the cousin. Still trying to figure out if he’s as dumb as they are.”
Hughes shakes his head. “He’s slippery.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, he pinches his nose. I’m guessing he’s not comfortable with our little information exchange.
“I appreciate the heads-up. And I’m glad you’re not taking their information at face value. My very expensive attorney would have a field day if I’d been put in a jail cell of any kind, so you’ve saved us both a lot of grief, Agent Hughes.”
He shifts his weight, hesitating. I wonder—
“I was hoping you could return the favor,” he says quickly, thinning his lips.
I go for nonchalant with a one-shoulder shrug, not willing to give away how intrigued I am by this turn of events.
“I’ll call off Hopper, Agent Hughes, but I cannot guarantee he’ll comply.”
This has the intended effect of loosening him up, tipping his lips into a barely-there smile.
“I appreciate that for my grandfather’s sake. But I also have a question for you. Off the record.”
Grandfather?Hm.
“Agent Hughes,” I say, tapping my temple. “You and I both know you can lie about your intentions. ‘Off the record’ isn’t something I would fall for, don’t you agree?”
“True, but certainly you can answer a hypothetical,” he says, pulling up his shirt.
“A six-pack. Wow. You must work out,” I deadpan.
Hopper’s obsession is beginning to make a lot more sense. Not that I can judge—I have a bespectacled obsession of my own.
“I’m just showing you I’m not wearing a wire.”
We both know nobody wears a wire anymore, but I appreciate the weak attempt to show good faith.
“Tell you what. Ask your hypothetical question, and we’ll see if I have a hypothetical answer for you.”
He sits, leaning his forearms on my desk. “How is it the Byrne brothers are selling meth, coke, and every kind of pill out there in what is, hypothetically, your territory?”
“I don’t have a drug territory, Agent Hughes, so that might explain things.”
He narrows his eyes at me.
I raise my hands. “I’m a legitimate businessman. If I were to—hypothetically—have business in the drug trade, which, again, I do not, I might have decided selling meth in my territory isn’t exactly good for the community.”
“And you find that you are concerned with the good of the community?” he asks.
“Of course. Aren’t you?”
“Yes. Which is why I’m about to say something so fucking crazy I can’t believe it’s coming out of my mouth.”
