Page 23 of Fierce Protector

“Fuck right off.”

“Right back at you, you grumpy asshole.” There’s a little chuckle before he gets back to business. “You got any questions about the numbers?”

“Nah, looks like putting Lombardi in charge of the clubs was a good call. The changes he’s testing at Inferno seem to be making a big difference if the numbers are anything to go by.”

“Yeah, his vision appears to be what the clubs need. Clever, eager to prove himself, and young enough to stay awake till closing.” We both laugh at that one. “Aurora was right to promote him.”

I’m nodding as I say, “She was. We need profitable, legitimate businesses if we’re going to fund this war.”

Don’t get me wrong, we’re by no means pure as the driven snow. We trade in a lot of illegal merchandise,from weapons to stolen goods, but we draw a line. Trafficking of people or drugs is a no-go. It turns my stomach, knowing the types of people we aligned ourselves with. Never again.

“So, are we going to see you at family dinner again soon?” Dante adds as we’re wrapping up the call.

What am I going to say? No? That would be unusual, but it also feels strange saying yes now. Like I should talk to Katerina first. “Er?—”

“None of that ‘I’m too busy’ bullshit. We’re all too busy and it’s been far too long. You’re coming to the next family dinner. And tell Katerina she needs to be there too.”

I stutter, unsure of what to say, but I heave a huge sigh of relief when Dante adds, “You know. Next time you’re at the hospital visiting Enzo. Word is from the security detail you practically live there these days.”

My shoulders drop, forcing me to recognise just how much tension was bubbling below the surface of this phone call. I hate this. I feel like I’m lying to my best friend. Who am I kidding? I am lying to my best friend.

I just hope he forgives me when the time comes.

CHAPTER TWELVE

KATERINA

Iam regretting my life choices. I should never have agreed to this. Now I’m stuck here witnessing the destruction of my personal bubble. There are people in my house, drilling holes in walls and installing little boxes of electronics, trailing wires all over the place, and leaving dust and footprints everywhere.

It’s not like I’m obsessively tidy. I’m what I would describe as ‘chaotic good’ when it comes to housework. Everything is mostly tidy and then I do one big clean every time I’m off shift. And truthfully, ‘mostly tidy’ means all mess is coordinated into piles, drawers, or baskets of organised disorder. But the dust and the noise and the people are too much.

Having changed into my gym kit, I storm into my kitchen and grab a water bottle from the fridge before turning and heading towards the garage. I have a home gym set up in there and I need to burn off the excessfrustration. When I open the internal door from the utility to the garage, I stop still at the sight before me. I’m both furious and also struggling to contain my laughter.

I have many pieces of equipment spread out in here. I haven’t managed to make a massive mark on my home since I moved in, but this space is one I took the time to put together. It’s my sanctuary. When I’m off shift, I turn into a complete homebody and the last thing I want to do is leave the comfort of my home in order to sweat in front of strangers.

None of those pieces of equipment are why I’m giggling though. Before me are two of the workmen. One is laughing at his friend while he tries—and fails—to hold himself with any dignity on the shiny spinning pole in the centre of the garage. I vaguely recognise them. They’re young, so I’m sure they’re the son or nephew of someone I know well, but right now I can’t place them. They definitely look similar enough to be brothers though.

The one on the pole is off the ground, straddling it and holding tight with one arm. I’m about to tell him not to let go when he does just that and throws his head back. I can’t stop the snort of laughter that erupts from me as he’s left gripping the pole with only his trouser-clad thighs, which lose all traction against the shiny surface, causing him to slide with great speed towards the floor. He lands on his ass with an undignified grunt, crushing his left shoulder. I flinch as he hits the ground, remembering how painful it was when I was learning.

“Having fun, boys?”

They whip their heads around, visibly blanching when they see me.

“It’s not as easy as it looks, is it, gentlemen?” I admonish, forcing a stern tone into my voice and arching a brow at them. I’m really not mad, but I’m enjoying fucking with them.

They don’t move, dropping their mouths open like fish out of water, seemingly having forgotten how to speak. I make my way over to them as the man who made the valiant attempt at the pole rights himself and starts dusting off his trousers.

“Is there a reason why you’re in here playing with my pole, gentlemen?” I feel a little bad when they blush before suddenly becoming enormously interested in staring at their feet. I decide not to let them off so easily. “Well?”

“Sorry, Doc,” they reply in unison. It’s impossible to keep a straight face at their complete mortification. The cackle I let out does nothing to reduce their awkwardness. As I step further into the room, they scurry towards the door, giving me a wide berth, like getting too close will somehow magnify their embarrassment.

“What exactly were you working on in here before you decided to ride my pole, boys?” I’m probably being a little mean now, but the looks on their faces make it too tempting not to tease them.

“W-we were putting up sensors on the window and garage door for the alarm. Sorry, Doc,” says the spectator. They both pause at the door like they’re waiting to be excused, but I can tell from their pained expressions they’d rather be anywhere but here.

I finally let my face fall into a warm smile, and I can see their relief when they grasp that I’m not actually mad. “I’m just fucking with you. Although if you want to play with the pole in future, you need to lose the trousers.”

I take a step towards it, stretching up high with one hand and taking a firm grip. I push off, lifting my legs off the ground, and start the pole in a slow spin before wrapping them around it, holding myself in a seated position as it rotates at a leisurely pace.

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