Page 7 of The Boss

“I’m not lying, sir. Mr. Nomikos ordered two drinks. When he did, he was alone.”

“Then why return to the room?” Christos was doing his best to keep his anger in check.

“Because he asked me to in fifteen minutes. I was right on time. I swear.” Tears had formed in her eyes. “But he was already… dead. Oh, God.”

As a keen observer of people’s behavior, I could instantly tell she wasn’t lying. At least about her task. It was still a mystery as to if she knew anything further. “Any idea who entered this room? Did you see the person?”

“No, sir. I have other customers.”

Nico snorted and I threw him a look. Pushing her wasn’t going to garner answers.

“Very well, Sophia. You can go. If you think of anything, anyone in this club will know how to get ahold of me.” I sensed Christos wasn’t happy with my decision, but he had no choice.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Nomikos.”

“And Sophia, you will not mention tonight’s occurrence to anyone. Is that understood?”

“Of course.” She couldn’t have scurried any faster from the room.

I followed her out, waving my hand at Nico and my brothers when Christos started to say something. I trailed her to the main floor, watching as she headed for the bar. When she had a brief but animated discussion with one of the bartenders, my instinct told me there was information to be discovered. I’d need to play this carefully.

As I shifted to return to the room, I noticed a young woman staring at me. The glare from the pulsing dance floor lights and the darkness inside the club didn’t allow me to see her face clearly, but there was something about her that caught me off guard. Perhaps it was the silent stare, her expression one of curiosity, not anger or disgust.

She tilted her head as soon as she realized I’d noticed her heavy gaze. After providing an appreciative look, she turned around. Chuckling, I headed to the room, surprised my cock was throbbing.

“I don’t trust her, boss,” Atticus threw out as soon as I entered.

“At this point, I don’t trust many people. Bring the bartender to me. Michael is his name.” The kid was American, someone who’d begged me in person for a job. Perhaps he could share some insight that others might not.

Nico didn’t bother wasting any time asking why, simply walking to the bar to follow my directions.

“What are you thinking?” Christos pushed.

“That whatever is going on isn’t finished yet. Let me handle the bartender.”

Several of my men lifted Leandro’s body, placing him on a plastic sheet. He would be handled with more care after leaving the facility. Then I’d need to call my parents with the news.

After they carried him out, I paced the floor for a few seconds. When I slammed my fist into the wall, Nico exhaled so I could hear it. I’d put a dent in the wallboard. So the fuck what? What in God’s name was going on?

Huffing, I pulled out a chair, sitting down as I allowed my mind to process the events. With no current obvious enemies in my portfolio, it was difficult to present a list of names to deal with. That would come with more information and time.

Michael wasn’t fighting being brought into the room, but he wasn’t happy either.

“Leave us alone,” I told my men. My chest was tight from the increasing rage.

Christos remained, moving toward the wall and leaning against it with his arms crossed.

Nico acted as if he was going to question my command then shook his head before ushering the others out. As soon as he closed the door behind him, I lifted my head to stare into the bartender’s eyes.

“Do you like working here, Michael?”

“Yes, very much, sir.”

“That’s good. You seem to please our female guests. You also work well with the waitstaff.”

“Yes, sir.” He seemed confused and nervous.

“However, keeping secrets from your employer isn’t in your best interest.”

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