Page 42 of Dirty Big Sins

“Apparently, my purported parentage is of great concern to certain people in this town. It’s as if suddenly I’m expected to turn into a monster with a gun. Which is ridiculous considering my career choice of professional athlete had nothing to do with crime. Not that that seems to stop anyone from going on high alert around me.”

Gabe smirked at me and I almost laughed. That expression had more disbelief in it than an angry Italian mother about to nail her son to the wall for fighting in school.

My stomach jolted at the sudden memory of my mother doing just that. Her expression thunderous as she explained in rapid fire Italian for the fiftieth time why I couldn’t just do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. Or how I couldn’t underestimate my strength just because I was a kid.

Jesus.

I scrubbed my hand over my face and tried to wipe that image from my mind. It had been years since I’d thought of her and I couldn’t think of a more inappropriate time for memories of her to pop back up.

“Look, as much as I prefer to stay out of your business, I think it’s time we talked about your intentions and what implication that could have on the hotel.”

I could understand his position and didn’t want to take the time to argue, so I decided to be as honest as I could. “I don’t currently have any official intentions beyond Saturday’s fight. I need to get through that, then I can focus on the future. I have to keep things simple this week. I’m sure you understand.”

“I do. But— ”

“No fucking buts.” I was getting tired of being challenged at every turn. Friend or not, enough was enough. “What happens next is my business. I have no intention of dragging The Sinclair into anything other than profitable ventures such as this fight. I might take some of your money at the tables, but I hardly think that qualifies as something to get alarmed about. My lineage may sound complicated, and maybe it is—for me. For The Sinclair nothing changes. This may turn out to be my last fight, but that doesn’t mean I leave the business. I have a huge stake in this sport now and I don’t see that changing any time soon. No matter who my fucking father is. And frankly, I can’t believe you of all people are questioning me like this. I’ve had enough.”

I realized my slip as soon as it left my mouth, but Gabe didn’t seem to notice. Good thing since it was no one’s business that Romeo Rossi was currently hiding out at my house instead of in an Italian morgue like everyone had been led to believe. Or that he was even alive for that matter. Father or not, when one of the most powerful mafia leaders asked for help, anyone would have been hard pressed and probably fucking stupid to turn him out at that point. Although that’s exactly what I’d come close to doing.

“Just be careful, okay? We run a tight ship here and I have got to keep this place squeaky clean. If Mason Sinclair got wind of any of this, he’d be here in a minute to clean house, and I promise no one would like that nor would anyone be exempt. He’s not exactly the gentle silent partner type when he deems something needs taken care of. More like, pardon the cliché, but it is particularly apt in this situation, a bull in a china shop. And don’t think organized crime has anything on him. He has no trouble climbing down into the pits of hell if that’s what it takes to get things done. He’s as ruthless as they come.”

“I’m hearing you, friend.” I stole a quick glance at a message on my screen that had come in earlier and I’d yet to reply to. “Trust me that I’ve got this all under control.” My attention on this conversation was beginning to wane.

“And Zia?”

What the fuck? That question recaptured my attention. I stamped a harsh scowl across my face and leveled my gaze back on Gabe’s.

“Do you have a point you are trying to get to? Because if so, you should get there fast. I’ve had enough of having to placate people digging into my private life this week. Even you.”

“Look, I’m not trying to insult you. I get that this is a complicated situation. But whatever this is you have going on with Zia, it might be too complicated for your life right now. Like you said, you need to concentrate on your fight and I need her focus elsewhere. It was an expensive gamble for me to take with this restaurant and we are already facing potential delays if she can’t pull a fucking rabbit out of her hat and get everything done on time. Now may not be the time for you to push her.”

I tamped down the growing resentment I felt beginning to burn through my blood. Zia was mine now and that meant Gabe had little say in her future. Except in the case of her beloved restaurant. For that reason alone, I held back the sharp retort on the tip of my tongue. That didn’t stop my fists from opening and closing several times, however, as I rode out the rising need to hit something.

“What’s between Zia and me is personal and for me to decide how to handle. I’d think of all people you would understand that.”

Gabe laughed. “Oh I do. More than you know. My beginnings with Nina were rocky and took years to resolve. I exercised the patience of a fucking saint when it came to her. But it was worth it. My wife is—well, she’s perfect. Maybe that’s the point I’m trying to make. Cut Zia some slack right now and maybe what you want to get from her won’t be so damned difficult. We’re less than a week away from the restaurant opening. Can you give me that long?”

As I considered his request, I thought of the woman waiting for me in my suite now. There were a lot of things I wanted to do when it came to her and waiting wasn’t remotely on that list.

“No. And before you get your shit in a twist over my answer, you should know that there is a lot more at play here than just me. Her and I we have a—unique history. Not to mention a shared connection that can’t be ignored for even a week. Trust me. If I thought it was safe to give you the time you’re requesting, I’d do it. It’s not and so I can’t. I also can’t get into the details with you. If that pisses you off and you want me to leave the hotel, I understand and respect that. But know this. If I go—she goes. I’m not leaving The Sinclair without her.”

The heavy sigh from Gabe didn’t surprise me. However, I couldn’t be dissuaded and we both knew it. Making my position clear to my friend had to be a priority. Well, as clear as I could make it without revealing too much.

“You aren’t going to budge on this, are you?”

It was my turn to laugh. “You know me better than that. When have I ever let go of something I wanted?”

“Never.” He sighed again. “And I have a feeling this time it’s going to cost me a fuck-ton of money.”

I patted Gabe on his shoulder. “You worry too much, my friend. Trust me. I’ve got this under control. I want a lot of things from that woman, but failure isn’t one of them.”

“Uh huh. I’ll just bet. I’d ask for more information, but I’m afraid I’m better off without the details of what you have planned.”

A grin pulled at the corners of my mouth as I backed away in the direction of the elevators. “Like I said. You worry too much. I get it, though. But you need another outlet for that frustration. I have to go now, but want to meet at the gym in the morning for a workout? I’m supposed to take it easy.”

As Gabe’s eyes narrowed, my laugh broke free. There was nothing about him that was easy and we both knew it. He might not be ready to walk into a championship ring, but he had more than enough raw power to keep me on my toes.

“Screw you, Romeo. Any other time I’d take that challenge and wipe the floor with it. But fuck if I’m going to be held responsible for ruining a champ the day before a big fight. Go do what you need to do, but make sure my chef is where she needs to be when she needs to be there.”

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