Page 5 of Deadly Sins: Greed

“I’ve sent our family jet to pick you up. Falcon will escort you back. See you soon.”

CHAPTER 3

The plane landed four hours later. The hatch opened, and out stepped a man I hadn’t seen before. He was lean but muscular, with a short, trimmed, black beard, black hair, and a chiseled, angular face. He wore gray slacks and a pale-pink, button-up shirt under a fitted waistcoat. He descended the steps, walked in my direction, and then stood there, towering over me, exuding the kind of confidence some men pretended to have but didn’t.

It wasn’t often a person intimidated me, but I found myself nervous to engage him in conversation. Unsure of what to do next, I did what I always did when trying to break the ice—I stuck a hand in his direction. “I’m Sloane.”

He eyeballed my hand, then laughed, his piercing, green eyes staring into mine like he had anticipated my next move before I even knew it. I took his laugh as him poking fun at my expense and reached for the handle on my suitcase, figuring I’d show myself to the plane. He sensed my frustration and reached out, pulling me into an awkward embrace. “I’m Falcon, and we don’t shake, we hug.”

Maybehehugged.

I didn’t.

And the stud earring he wore on his left ear didn’t match the dangling feather on the right, which triggered my OCD.

I half-assed the hug, patting him on the back, then stepping back and saying, “Falcon, like the bird?”

He found the comment amusing.

“Falcon, like the predator. You ready?”

I nodded. He grabbed my travel bag and walked toward the jet. I followed. A few minutes later we were in the air. He popped the cap off of a beer, took a swig, and looked at me. “Can I get you anything? Wine? Beer? Whiskey? I think there’s a bottle of vodka somewhere around here too.”

“Water would be good.”

He seemed confused. “Uhh ...there’s plenty of alcohol in the fridge, but I don’t know if there’s any water.”

I swished a hand through the air. “It’s okay. I don’t need anything.”

He raised a brow, indicating he didn’t give up easily, and then stood and walked to the fridge, shuffling around items on the inside. “Red Bull?”

I nodded, and he handed it to me.

“How long have you worked for Giovanni?” I asked.

“A couple of years.”

“And how long have you known him?”

“A couple of years. Why?”

“I guess I’m a little surprised he hired you to work for him.”

“Why? Because you look like you assume I’m not Italian?”

“I didn’t say that,” I said.

“It’s what you meant though, right?”

Right.

“Whydid hehire you?”

“You’renot Italian,” he quipped. “Why did Daniela hire you?”

“I met them several years ago in Park City. Since then, we’ve kept in touch here and there. What’s your story?”

“His sister was sitting next to me one night at a pub in the city, fighting with the guy she’d been dating. The guy made a few derogatory comments, and I clocked him. Broke the guy’s nose. Couple days later, I get a call at work. It was Giovanni, asking me to stop by his house. I didn’t know who he was or anything about him at the time. I went over, we got to talking about my military background, and he asked if I wanted to work for him.”

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