Page 82 of Mafia Star

“Salvatore said he’s had men outside my parents’ home since the attack. His men didn’t see the agents leaving with anything but the weapons. There were no boxes or bags. My parents didn’t see anything taken from their offices. According to my parents and Salvatore’s men, the agents went in, made a colossal mess, scared my parents and the people in their offices, made the neighbors notice, then left. They didn’t even question my parents.”

I glance back at them as Marco and I continue to speak quietly in the foyer.

“How is this legal? I mean, how’d they get a warrant? Leaving empty handed proves there was no probable cause, right? If they’re doing this to intimidate your family, isn’t this pushing the envelope for using federal funds or something?”

“They’ll call it the beginning of an ongoing investigation. The fact they took the weapons will be their argument for continuing to harass your parents. They can’t get to Enzo or me directly or even through you and Chelle, so they’re going after your parents. They’re hoping family discord will make you and them flip. They know Enzo and Chelle are married, so they can’t force Chelle to testify against Enzo. They could push her to testify about the rest of the family. They’re also dragging the O’Rourkes in, hoping they’ll pressure you and your parents to narc on us. If you do, then it’ll take the focus off them.”

“Now I get why they say it can take years to build a case. They have a lot of maneuvering to do to keep it from looking like entrapment and witness tampering and planting evidence.”

“Yes.”

I wait for him to say more, but he’s now looking over my shoulder. I assume he’s watching my parents. But he pulls me in for another embrace. He tucks his chin and whispers to me.

“I’m going to have to go out today. I need to make it look like a workday like usual. You do too. But I don’t know if I’ll be home tonight. I want you to stay here another night, okay?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

I have questions. But I can’t ask them. When he says he needs to make it look like a usual workday, that tells me it’s anything but. I want to cling to him and tell him we all need to hide until the feds get tired of looking for us. I want to tell him to stay here, so the O’Rourkes don’t do anything to him for dragging them into this. I’m certain they’ll find a way to blame Marco and Enzo in particular because of Chelle and me.

“Let’s go talk to everyone else. Then I’m going to have to talk to my uncles and Papa.”

“Do you need me to do anything? Do you want me to make you some breakfast? Are you going to have time to sleep?”

I guess I am asking questions.

“My mom and aunts will start cooking soon. I’m surprised I didn’t arrive to a full breakfast already.”

“But—”

“Beth, having your family involved is unusual. But having the government breathing down our necks isn't. We don’t stop our lives because of it. We all still have to eat. I’d love to crawl into bed with you, but I can’t. I napped on the flight. I want you to have three guards and someone from my family, but you need to go into the office. You have to appear like none of this rattled you or your family. If we hide, then they’ll claim your family is up to something. They’ll think we’re weak if my family doesn’t go about business as normal. No one can ever see this faze us.”

It all makes sense, but it’s all so fucking complicated.

“Salvatore said he’ll arrange extra security for all the women and that he’ll have discreet details for my parents.”

“Good. Let’s have breakfast, take a shower together, then head out.”

“A shower together?”

“You think I’m starting my day without filling you with my cum? Not a chance, little one. I’m going to listen to you moan my name. And you’re going to feel how much I missed you.”

“How do you keep everything you have to do in your mind when you’re always thinking about sex?”

“I can multitask. Now, let’s eat our breakfast, so I can eat you out.”

He gives me a nudge toward the dining room where people are gathering. There is more to our relationship than sex. There wasn’t supposed to be, but there is. However, a little dirty talk and hopefully a good fuck will calm me down a bit. That or day drinking.

“Mr. and Mrs. Decker, Feng Shui would have a more minimalist approach.”

I look at my clients as we walk through their under-construction home in Westchester. I’d just gotten to the office and was sitting down to work on designs for them when they called and announced they “hoped” I’d join them at the site. I’ve worked with them on three homes now. I know it meant expected. Carmine was about as thrilled with the change of plans as I was. Now I’m standing in the master bedroom trying to convince them they can’t have a fucking rumpus room and say it’s Feng Shui.

Alicia Decker, with her fake nails and fake tits, is wife number three out of what will probably be five before Craig Decker dies. She points around the room as she speaks.

“Having the elliptical and treadmill in here will motivate us. And we need the seventy-five-inch TV to give us something to watch while we work out.”

They won’t work out, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Mr. Decker doesn’t love watching porn on a TV that big. Fucking up close and personal to every dick he wishes was his and every clit he thinks he could work.

Fine. Whatever. Have your shit in your room and call it whatever you want. Right now, I want to finish this walkthrough, head back to my office, and remind myself that clients like them are paying off my grad school loans.

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