Page 9 of Dirty Big Sins

Fuck.

“Either way we’re done here for the day. You’ve got company again.” Bennie nodded his head over my shoulder.

I whirled, prepared to take on whoever had entered the ring this time. I’d known the criminals of Las Vegas wouldn’t give up, especially now that my lineage had been revealed. But once a bastard always a bastard. I didn’t need the Rossi family name to fight my battles. I was more than capable of handling this on my own.

Only it wasn’t the mob standing behind me with guns trained at my head.

It was the FBI, and he needed no gun to threaten everything I’d built.

“We need to talk.”

I glared at Agent Reed. I’d known he would be back, but under the current circumstances I suspected it would be a lot harder this go round. As Bennie, disappeared from the ring, I walked over to the ropes, the only thing separating me from trouble I definitely didn’t need.

“Do I need a lawyer?”

“You tell me. I’m under the impression you’ve got secrets to hide, but a little cooperation goes a long way.”

I narrowed my eyes at the other man, scrutinizing him like I would any other opponent. Fuck. I should have done some research on him after his first visit.

It wasn’t like me to let something that important fall between the cracks. Prep work had become my mantra way back when. I needed that level of control to keep the chaos at bay. That I’d let this situation with Zia distract me from something this important showed just how far down the rabbit hole I’d fallen.

That woman owned me and it was past time to turn the tables on her.

“Sounds like you put too much stock into media bullshit if you ask me. Haven’t you heard of fake news?”

Agent Reed smirked, his eyes narrowing. “Is it? Fake news I mean? Underground whispers say otherwise.” He took several steps closer, reminding me that he was built like a brick shit house. The fucker also looked more like a gangbanger than a federal agent. “Look, unless your connection to the Rossi family has something to do with the diamonds I’m looking for, then I really don’t give a shit right now. I’m a one case at a time guy, and unless you are planning to stop boxing and start running the family business, that connection is unlikely to approach my radar. Your connection to your long-time business manager, though...Well, I can’t rule you out as a potential accomplice quite yet.”

To be completely honest, my train of thought had gotten stuck on his statement about underground whispers. If anyone was talking about me other than in reference to my upcoming fight or my picture with Zia, I likely had a problem. And it wasn’t one that could be fixed by PR.

“I still don’t know anything about your jewels. And my shit show of a manager has conveniently disappeared. I haven’t seen or heard from him since the morning of your last visit. My guess is he caught wind of your investigation and has gone underground.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if we search your private plane?”

I hesitated, keeping my stare fixed on Agent Reed’s clear skepticism. I couldn’t quite get a bead on the extent of his motives and that didn’t sit well. I was sure he’d been trained to school his emotions and only let others see what he wanted them to see. Which left me with nothing but the knowledge I couldn’t trust anything about him.

“If my lawyer thinks it’s a good idea, sure. You’ll have to take that up with him. In fact, I think we’re done here. You want answers, find Brian. And when you do, tell him I said he’s fired.”

Of course the fucker didn’t move. Getting rid of a nosy fed would never be that easy. Not if he was half decent at his job.

“This would go a lot better for us both if you cooperated on your own, Mr. Cabrini. Trafficking in blood diamonds may not seem that serious of an offense to you, but I assure you it is. This country takes any and all affiliations with potential terrorists as a high priority problem. And I don’t imagine that kind of news would be good for anyone splashed across the wire.”

Anger shot through me. I didn’t care for his snide implication and glaring threats. As far as I was concerned, he could shove it up his ass. I was about to tell him that when the rational part of my brain re-engaged.

“Like I said. Take it up with my lawyer. I’ve told you what I know, which is exactly dick. Now, as you can see, I’ve got a fight to train for. Unless you have some other information or wisdom you want to impart…”

I didn’t even try to hide my blatant fishing for information. Or the fact I was being a dick about it. As far as I was concerned, cooperation was a two-way street. If he wanted mine, then he’d have to be a hell of a lot more forthcoming.

The tight-lipped bastard said nothing. All I got was more of his steely determined glare that clearly told me he wouldn’t back down. I admired that, despite the complications it presented to me personally.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “For your lawyer. Or in case you change your mind about your own cooperation. Either way I need to hear something by tomorrow morning. I’d hate to hunt you down again and make a public scene. That might not be good promotion for your fight.”

I snorted and took the card anyway, but only to keep from doing something rash. If he wanted to drag me in for questioning and improve my street cred for this fight, it might not be a bad thing. Under normal circumstances.

However, with this much anger still coursing through me, I was starting to lose my hard-won control. It felt like I did in the beginning of my career. When things could have gone either way and I had to fight twice as hard as everyone else to come out on top without going too far.

I hated that feeling.

The last time I’d felt like this, someone had died...

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