Page 2 of The Boss

“I’ll say. The idiot is in hiding and the state department is trying to sort out the mess. Since I’ve already been approached, I have a feeling he’ll be shipped out within thirty days.”

“Let me know what happens.”

Whap. Whap. Whap. Whap.

I allowed my anger from the last few days to power my punches. My breathing was more labored tonight. Business had been a pain in my ass the last few months, tensions rising. It was becoming difficult to tell our enemies from our friends. Even keeping both close to the fold no longer held the usual effect.

Maybe it was time to return to the old ways, hunting and killing those who opposed our family.

“Absolutely. You’ll be the first to know.”

“I hope you’ll share the news with your wife first.”

He laughed. “I have a feeling Darcy will know before I do. Social circles and all. Maybe just her clairvoyance. You know how she is.”

I threw three additional savage punches before deciding I was finished for the night. Any longer and they’d spark the rage buried deep within. “I know exactly how she is, which is why it shocks me that she agreed to marry a chump like you.” He couldn’t see the grin on my face.

We were opposites, his life empowering the right side of the law. My world was entirely different, the darkness and violence necessary to keep the peace the only thing we didn’t talk about. I pulled the string on my boxing gloves with my teeth, able to wrangle the right one off.

“Very funny. I’ll give you a call in a week or so. I should know by then. Hey, save me a bottle of ouzo. Will ya?”

“You tourists are all alike.” With the left glove tossed into the box they were kept in, I immediately grabbed a towel and wiped my face.

“I guess I won’t remind you of my first night in Athens. Didn’t you win the top karaoke award that night?”

“Asshole,” I growled.

He was laughing as I ended the call. Chuckling as well, I rubbed sweat from the back of my neck, finally tossing the towel over my shoulders. As I headed to the bar, I stared out the sliding glass doors at the lights from areas of the city below. The estate was positioned on one of dozens of hills, which allowed for a perfect view of the ocean.

Keeping up the house my parents owned had seemed prudent when I spent so much time handling business in the city, but I wouldn’t call the sprawling mansion my home. It was more like a museum holding fine art pieces worth millions and fine antiques my mother had scoured Europe to find.

Not my taste by a long shot.

As my mother had told me before they’d jetted off on their worldwide vacation, the estate was our family’s home. True enough. I had to respect their wishes and customs.

It was time for a drink, my adrenaline higher than usual when I exercised. The week had turned to shit, business operations taking a hit. It would seem everyone in the world was in a cranky mood.

I’d yet to make it to the bar when I heard heavy footsteps. I didn’t bother turning around to find out who it was. Five people and my housekeeper had the ability to walk right in. Anyone else and I’d put a bullet between their eyes. I headed to the bar instead, pulling down a bottle of Russian vodka.

I loathed the Russians, every single one of them, but they made a damn good liquor. When I was grabbing a glass, the atrocious mirror behind the bar’s shelves reflected the person entering my personal space.

Nico Pappas was my right-hand man, a true enforcer in a dangerous world where grown men and women had no respect or understanding of when to stop playing vicious, deadly games. “What is it?”

“Káti échei…” He stopped himself, switching to English, my preferred language. I was born and bred Greek through and through, but English was often mandated given the number of international tourists who frequented my family’s clubs. It was the same for most of Athens. Tourists and international businesspeople meant money. “Something has occurred.”

“Something? You need to be more specific.” I added two ice cubes and poured over a half a glass, finally turning around when he seemed hesitant to answer. “What is it, Nico?”

“A shooting at one of the clubs.”

“A shooting. Which one?” There were several in the Nomikos holdings.

“Sin and Shame.”

“A tourist on the wrong side of an argument?”

He walked closer, his face pensive. “No.”

“Just out with it.”

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