Page 15 of Caged Bliss

Seamus snorts and nods to himself. “Yeah, that makes sense. Those two can’t keep shit from each other.”

“Can you keep shit from your brother?”

He tilts his head side to side. “Depends what it is. He’s technically the head of our family, but that doesn’t mean I tell him every little thing I do.”

That’s good enough for me. It’s how I feel about Simon too: I’d obey a direct order, and I never keep anything important from him, but the Don doesn’t run my life. Not that I’d fucking let him even if he wanted to.

It wasn’t easy getting Seamus’s information. I had to put out some feelers and I got lucky when one of my guards knows a few guys in his organization. The Quinns are on the rise in this city, and so many of my old contacts are either dead or busy with other shit, and I don’t know who I can trust. At least I know Seamus is on my family’s side, regardless of everything else, and I figure if this is purely business then he can be discreet.

“I need help finding a few people.” I take a drink and study his expression. No reaction. “There’s a guy named Roc and another named Vito. Both work for my Famiglia, though Roc’s a little hard to pin down. There’s also a group of Serbian gangsters I need found.”

Seamus’s lips tug down. “You need help finding guys that work for you?”

“I need someone to do it discreetly. Let’s just say I have some unfinished business with them and if word gets around that I’m trying to find out where they live, there might be some problems for me.”

He grunts and rubs a finger around his drink. “And it won’t be strange that a man from a rival organization is poking around yours?”

“We’re not rivals. We’re allies now. Or at least that’s what I’ve been told.”

“If I do this for you. If I find your Italians and your Serbians. What’s on offer?”

“Money. Straight payment. I want to keep this as simple as possible.”

“I’m always fond of simple jobs.” Seamus stretches and gives me a curious smirk. “But why me and not someone else?”

“Because you’re an outsider enough that you don’t give a shit what I’m up to, but an insider enough that it won’t seem too strange that you’re asking around. Besides, we’re family now, and it’s what family does, right?”

He nods to himself like that makes sense. “Sure, we’re family. I’m interested. Send me more information on the Serbians and I’ll get started on Roc and Vito. We can talk about final numbers later, but I’ll be reasonable.”

“I appreciate that. And I know I don’t have to say it, but we never had this meeting.” I finish my drink and stand up. “Feel free to avail yourself of the goods on the house. I’ll let Rodrigo know that you’re my personal guest.”

Seamus laughs and shakes his head. “I appreciate that, but I’d rather not give that Tommy fuckhead blackmail material.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “What now?”

“You don’t know?” He throws back his beer and pushes to his feet. “Those fucking rooms are all bugged. I bet he’s got cabinets of shit just lying around waiting for the right opportunity.” He bumps my elbow with his as he walks off. “I’ll be in touch.”

I watch him go, annoyed with myself for not realizing sooner. Of course, Tommy’s got most of the building wired out the ass. With his client list, there have got to be more than a few members worth extensively filming and shaking down. That might help explain how he’s been making so much fucking money.

Because it’s more than obvious that Club Cage is earning too much.

I’ve been back for a week now, and I can already tell that the numbers Tommy’s reporting to Simon are way too fucking high. Either he’s lying, which is stupid, or he’s doing something he’s not talking about.

I’d bet my life on the latter.

Which is why I need Claudia to get in that damn office.

Chapter 8

Claudia

The hammering club beat mirrors my racing heart. I’m a little winded from dancing for the last half hour, but also from the distinct feeling that I’m being watched.

Which I definitely am. There are more than a few guys staring at me as I shake my ass in the cage, but I’m used to those. It’s part of the job, and while I don’t love it, I can at least tolerate it.

It’s not the clients that bother me. It’s the thought of Angelo out there in the crowd somewhere.

I don’t know why I keep obsessing about that man. He’s not going to materialize from the darkness, walk over here, and sweep me off my feet like I keep dreaming he might. There won’t be some romantic kiss, no hot as fuck sneaky sex sessions in some private booth, no secretive messages left taped under bar stools. He’s just some gangster that wants to use me for his own selfish purposes, and if I let myself get swept away by how good he looks, I’ll end up getting screwed.

---