Page 4 of His to Claim

Although, technically, I suppose Miceli does owe me, but I told him not to worry about it. Owing me is like owing the devil. No one wants to go there. I’ve seen things, done things, know things…that no one else should. Or, would ever want to be aware of because they’re dark and deadly secrets.

I have my pulse on the underworld and make it my business to know what’s happening in the city at all times. If a threat arises, I handle it. My league of informants, mostly a web of criminals, keep me in the loop. I also have contacts in the police department and stay on good terms with a former CIA agent.

So when I say I know what’s happening, well, it’s a bit of an understatement. I’m like the TMZ of the NYC underworld. I get the gossip and the facts first, and then I decide how best to use that information. Who to tell, who not to tell—and who will pay the most to learn what I know.

While I rule the underworld, Miceli Rossi, on the other hand, rules the mafia kingdom. Along with the other five ruling families who made their way over from Italy and Sicily generations ago, they run the city’s businesses. While he rules the day, I rule the night.

After all I’ve done and seen, it’s where I belong—in the darkness.

I live a solitary life and that’s how I prefer it. I have no desire to ever meet a woman, get married and have a family. Darkness consumes every aspect of who I am, where I’ve been and where I’m going. There’s no room in my life for innocence. Besides, I’d probably be allergic and instantly break out in hives if I came in close proximity to anything remotely pure or good.

My attention falls on the invitation sitting on the edge of my desk. It’s for a charity masquerade ball and normally I’d ignore it. Run it through my shredder without a second thought. But, in this case, it behooves me to go. The couple holding the event recently reached out to me and asked for my services. I didn’t accept or decline yet because I like seeing people in person first, so I can watch how they interact and conduct their business before taking them on as a client. Because, let’s face it, the shit I do, that they want me to do, isn’t always on the up and up. I need to know I’m working for decent human beings because even the devil has standards. Plus I figure I can also keep a close eye on the Rossi family while I’m there, just in case trouble surfaces. Two birds, one stone kind of thing.

Rumor has it that Carmine Gallo is planning his revenge on the Rossi family and he’s willing to do anything to make it happen. Granted, Angelo and company are supposedly responsible for burning the man’s mansion down and forcing him to go into hiding because he was being hunted down by bounty hunters. But in all fairness, Gallo had put the original hit out on Angelo and his new wife, Blake Serrano Rossi. They just outsmarted him, flipped the tables, and now he’s pissed.

My gaze moves from the invite over to my cell phone, and I snatch it up. After hitting Miceli’s number, I lean back further in my chair as it rings. The other man answers almost immediately.

“Archer, how are you?”

“Oh, you know,” I respond easily, “same old, same old.”

I’d like to say I’m calling Miceli out of the goodness of my heart, but that would be a lie. It’s always business and how best I can increase the money in my coffers.

“What have you got for me?” the other man asks, getting straight to the point which is fine with me. I wouldn’t necessarily call Miceli Rossi a friend, more of a strategic business acquaintance. It’s not like we ever hang out, drink beers and shoot the shit together. No, instead, we deal in information.

And, of course, cold hard cash. Which is exactly the reason for my call. By keeping Miceli informed, which is the best and most priceless thing I can do, he will pay me back generously with favors and money. It’s a win-win situation for the both of us.

“I wanted to give you a heads-up,” I say, flicking a piece of lint off my black T-shirt. “Gallo is on the warpath and has vowed to bring you and your family down. By any means necessary.”

Rossi curses under his breath. “That asshole is becoming a thorn in my side.”

“Yeah, well, you might want to make sure he’s taken care of sooner rather than later.”

“Noted. I appreciate the heads-up. Like always, I’ll make sure you’re compensated.”

I sit up straight, my boots dropping down and hitting the floor with a dull thud. “Good doing business with you, Rossi.”

“Same.”

We hang up and then I stand up and stretch. Once again, my eyes focus on the invitation and I grab it. It’s a black envelope with my name embossed in fancy handwriting on the front. I open it and slide the black card out. All the information for the party is there in silver, foiled writing, including the part where masks and costumes are greatly encouraged.

I sigh. Playing dress-up isn’t high on my agenda, but I’ve heard all about this particular party, so I know that everyone dresses up. In fact, the guests go all out and dress to the nines. No one removes their mask until midnight and it’s a tradition that’s been going on for the past ten years.

And who am I to break tradition?

Nobody. So that means my ass has to put together a costume. Of course, I’m dreading it and have zero ideas. I also have zero friends to help me figure it out.

Shoving a hand through my black hair, I remind myself it’s for the best. Remaining alone and detached is for…the…best. I repeat the phrase to myself a few times, driving it home.

A long time ago, things had been different…and look how horribly that had turned out. No, I refuse to ever endanger anyone ever again. That means I won’t bring anyone into my world or allow myself to get too close. Especially to a woman.

Without warning, an image of Caitlin fills my head. My body reacts the same as it always does and nausea pummels my stomach. She didn’t deserve what happened to her and no amount of time that has passed has helped ease the weight of my guilt. My grief has lessened over time and that probably just makes me a bigger bastard than I already am.

Truthfully, I don’t think I’m capable of love. I’ve heard about it, read about it, even witnessed it. Hell, the Rossi men have all fallen and now their worlds revolve around their wives. But I can’t fathom meeting a woman and having my world tilt and my stomach fill with butterflies. If she’s attractive, the only thing I can count on is a hard-on and, if I’m lucky, a one-night stand.

It’s all I’m capable of, anyway. When Caitlin died, any humanity and warmth I had died along with her. I’m not a good guy. I’m cold, ruthless and enjoy the power that comes along with information. I’d much rather count the dollars in my various bank accounts around the world than cuddle with some needy woman. Because eventually they all turn needy and want more than I can give.

With another sigh, I walk over to the large picture window that overlooks New York City. The sun set a few minutes ago and the night is upon us. Bright lights glow all around and I take a moment to soak it all in. This city is my domain and I like to keep it clean of vermin and scum.

---