Page 17 of Remy

Why the hell hasn’t Dad let me bring this building into the twenty-first century?

“I’m not sure what she’ll do.” Ivy snarls. “But if you don’t move out of her personal space I’ll?—”

“Ivy,” I warn.

“I’m calling the cops.” Allison grabs the office phone. “Good luck getting another job after news of this breaks.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

News of this can’t break.

“Everyone needs to calm down.” I raise my palms in placation, glancing from Ivy to Allison then finally, the man of the moment—who seems slightly subdued after the cop threat. “Why don’t we take a step back from all this? Go home, Hugo. Use the weekend to think about what’s happened. If you’re still adamant you did nothing wrong, then come back on Monday and speak to Carlo.”

“After you’ve already cemented my guilt?” he snips.

“I’ll tell him the facts. That’s all. He can come to his own conclusions. Don’t forget he fought for you last time.”

He shakes his head. “You’re ruining my life.”

You’re not filling mine with sunshine and daisies either, asshole.

“Take the weekend,” I repeat. “Nothing good can come from continuing this conversation today.”

He glowers but complies, stalking outside and into the parking lot.

It isn’t until he’s out of view that I close the door and slump back against the cold glass with a relieved sigh.

“You should’ve asked for his keys.” Ivy crosses her arms over her chest. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he comes back tonight and torches the place.”

I slump farther. “I seriously didn’t think that through.”

Dad is going to kill me.

I want to kill me.

I push off the door. “On a positive note, at least I’ll be here if he does return, because the additional workload I’ve just given myself will keep me on the premises until midnight.”

4

REMY

I saw into my sirloin, one brow raised as I listen to my brother, Salvatore, talk business with our Uncle Lorenzo at the old man’s extravagant Baltimore penthouse.

“I told you we needed to handle them both,” Salvo says around a mouthful of meat. “Didn’t I predict this would happen? We tap the son and the father retaliates. I lost three men today because we should’ve snuffed Javier the same night we dealt with his kid.”

Steak, salad, and slaughter has become the theme for these delightful family luncheons. You’d think the combo would spoil an appetite, but after unending months of the same ol’, same ol’, this shit no longer fazes me.

“What do you think, Rem?” Salvo looks at me, deliberately pinning me under the microscope before Lorenzo can voice a protest.

I swallow my bite, taking my time to digest the question. “I think I need another scotch.”

My brother glares.

My uncle sighs.

“What?” I dump my cutlery on my plate. “I’m thirsty.” And bored. It’s not like Salvo gives a shit about my opinion anyway. All he cares about is if I’ll support his request to snuff more threats.

As far as I’m concerned he can stew on his newfound psychotic tendencies for a minute.

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