Page 515 of Savage Bosses

“Ahht, ahht. I’d be careful with the names if I were you,” Alessandro says, smirking at our lawyer.

“Especially considering said company has placed the cousins of supposed mafia members as their lead architect and in their head seat as the CEO,” Marco says, steepling his fingers together and closely looking at his fingers as if willing them to remain poised and in control.

Rick’s eyes shoot my way before slowly shifting to Austin before swinging back to me again. It’s as if he’s praying that we will deny something his brain knows is true.

“I don’t believe we’re doing business with the mafia, Mr. Ward. We’re doing business with the DeLuca Group. A reputable company generating over five hundred million in revenue annually, the largest foreign-owned entertainment contributor in America, employing over six hundred employees. These gentlemen operate in the business world with integrity and vision, and if I could have ten business relationships like the one that I enjoy with the DeLucas, I would die a happy man, Mr. Ward,” Greyson says.

“It is the expectation of this company and the board of directors that I advise the CEO and the board of anything that might put the company at risk.”

“Rick.”

He looks at me.

With a single nod, I say, “Let me handle the board.”

Rick’s eyes widen, and he throws his hands up in exasperation. “Not sure why I’m hired and paid an annual salary of four hundred grand if my advice and legal expertise aren’t honored,” he mutters.

“It’s because you play in peanuts like that and think the way that you do that you don’t generate more income,” Marco sneers.

“Walk me through the logistics of this business partnership and your expectations from the company, and I will give you the projected costs for the job,” I say.

Although I’m listening with one ear to everything they’re proposing, I know that Austin and Rick, despite his mini tantrum, are listening wholeheartedly and taking notes. Despite the name of my mother’s family, I know this is a great business opportunity for the company. I also know that my cousins are reputable businessmen regarding their legitimate businesses.

I would never place this company in a risky situation that might compromise everything it has been built upon. I also know that my cousins wouldn’t ask that of me. The only thing that has me concerned right now is Brynlee.

If she recognizes the DeLuca name, she will make me eat shit for breakfast. If Rick easily recognized it, I don’t see how she might miss it. She only met my mother a couple of times and knew her then as Mrs. Charles or Mrs. Rita. She had no reason to know of my mother’s maiden name or ties to a mafia family.

Was she aware that my mother was Italian? Of course. Just as she knows that my father is French, we didn’t do an ancestry.com chart or anything. Yet, I know when she finds out about this, the shit will hit the fan. And she will find out. Rick will make sure to get the word out to the executive staff and the board, and I expect nothing less from him. I only pray that I have time to explain to her first.

As if I’ve thought her up, the door opens and in walks Brynlee. She stops in her tracks and says, “Excuse me. I didn’t realize there was a meeting.”

She turns to leave, and damn, that ass!

Fuck me hard! I haven’t seen her all day. My dick jerks hard at the two-toned grey and white ribbed knit dress that clings to every fucking curve in sight. The dress can easily be off-the-shoulder, but she has it pulled up to the edge of her shoulders to maintain an edgy, professional look.

Her grey heels boost her height and sensually outline her calves making her ass high like a donkey’s. An ass that I want to ride.

Clearing his throat, Rick says, “Ms. St. Clair, this is a meeting I’m sure your input would be invaluable in.”

“Oh?” she asks, looking from Rick to me.

“Yes. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Charles?”

That bastard.

All eyes turn to me, and I clear my throat, nod, and say, “Of course.”

She walks slowly back into the room, and I swivel my gaze to Rick. “Why don’t you give her your seat?” I growl.

He stands, looks nervously away, and extends his hand to his chair which Brynlee promptly takes. Her scent, warmth, and proximity make me lose concentration, and I have no idea why we’re in this fucking meeting anymore.

Rick takes the opportunity to apprise her of what’s happening, but every time he veers off course, Greyson, Andre Baxter, Dave Wolf, and Austin steer him back on course. They stick to the facts and reserve their biased opinions, unlike asshole Rick.

I’m thankful they’re there because I don’t have it in me to stay focused enough to clarify anything or check Rick’s disloyal ass.

All I can do is sit foolishly beside her and inhale her scent, while I try to play it calm and cool with one ankle crossed over my knee and my finger resting under my nose and over my top lip. I’m anything but calm and cool on the inside though.

Why the hell does this woman get to me the way she does? She’s not even thinking about me the way that I’m thinking of her. After all, didn’t she say to leave the past in the past? How can I do that when I’m with her every day unless I’m out of town?

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