Page 8 of Ruthless Beast

Emily Thornton. Twenty-four years old. Art major.

Impressive. I read on and spot the name of a gallery where she works part-time.

So, what’s the plan, Lucas? Are you going to do a drive by perv session? The girl is twelve years your junior. What are you going to do? Pack her lunch for school every morning?

Okay, so she’s a little younger than I am. No big deal. According to the info from Andreas, Emily is single, so I’m not threatening to break up a happy home here.

Get over yourself. David Thornton works for you. It behooves the boss of a mob organization to remember not to dip his pen in the company’s ink. No matter how irresistible that ink may seem.

“You’re right, you annoying, pain in the ass voice of reason,” I relent softly, talking to myself like a madman.

No good can come from pursuing Emily. I stare at the photo for a while longer before I place it back in the file and set it aside.

* * *

“Nice shindig you put together, Lucas.”

“Who doesn’t like a party?”

“The house looks great. The reno must have set you back a bit,” Andreas smirks.

“How would it look if the new boss lived in a hovel?” I chuckle.

“Indeed.”

“Thanks for the detailed reports, by the way.”

“My pleasure. Anyone worrying you?”

“No surprises, thankfully. There was one face that surprised me.”

“I bet I can guess which one,” he smiles.

“Okay, smartass. Let me have it.”

“Emily Thorngton. Am I right?”

“So, it isn’t just me?”

“Hell, no. That girl stops traffic wherever she goes. I’d be worried if you hadn’t noticed. Hell, even I had a second take.”

Andreas’ sexual orientation was one most would find surprising. Being gay didn’t always gel with the idea of being a tough mobster.

“If anyone could turn me, it would be that stunner,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, I’m thinking I’d better stay away from that powder keg.”

“I haven’t seen Tamara around. Are you two not together anymore?”

“No. Tamara wants a picket fence with all the trimmings, and I’m not there yet.”

“Especially not now. You’re going to have your hands full for the foreseeable future. Not that I have any doubts; you’ll pull it off without a hitch.”

“How’s Peter?”

“He’s well.”

“Why didn’t you bring him along?”

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