Page 31 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation
I know Callahan’s aware how much is owed. Not a lot slips past him, but seeing it on paper, and knowing what we do for the Hatfields really spells it out. Muscles tic in his jaw. “And the fuckwit likes to cry poor when he…” Cal scans down. “Spends this much on betting?”
“Probably more.” Torin shakes his head. “I pulled some strings with some bookies. They keep everything, and this is just a fraction of recent bets he’s made.”
“Ted Hatfield’s aneejit,” Cal mutters. “Time to roll.”
“Dec?” I call.
Our baby brother lopes down the stairs holding a big-ass gun in his hand. “I’m ready, are you?”
Lord help us all.
This fucking Ava’s still on my mind, and she shouldn’t be when Cal and I get to the underground MMA fights.
Tor’s in the van that Mikey is driving. Mikey might be running the de Rosa branch, but he likes to work with us, and he’s probably the best damn driver besides me and Cal that we have.
Dec’s with them.
He’s less than pleased, but I know he’ll be more into the fight than watching for Hatfield. Dude spends money he owes us on the fights. We’re here to round Ted up and take him to his place of business where we’re going to teach Hatfield and a few of his crew the meaning of honoring priorities.
We protect Ted and his little illegal drug business by keeping the cartel that wants to supply him focused on other distribution channels.
Protection and clean merch are two different things.
Ted gets a deal from us, and he pays the price we ask. Most other criminal organizations would milk him and sell him out, or at the very least, let the cartel in to sell him dirty shit.
But we’re here to take out the trash.
His little operation has enough underlings ready to take over.
“What’s the deal with the lass from the security job?” Cal asks as we make our way through the semilegal fights to the completely illegal shit.
I search the raucous crowd for Hatfield. The place smells of sweat, weed, booze, and smoke. There’s another room, where women fight, and I point it out. I can see thisgobshitespending in there, too.
“I’m not sure, Cal. But she’s supposed to be part of some bratva family.” I’m not telling him exactly how I found that out. Being knocked out isn’t exactly a feather in my cap. “V-something. Maybe they’re into smuggling?”
My brother stops and looks at me. “Volkov?”
“Could be?”
“Their Pakhan just died, and there’s a leadership hole. I hear they’re looking for a family member to take over.” He shrugs. “They’re small but on my radar.”
I tuck that information away, unsure what to do with it. Because while I know where she lives and there are questions I’d like answered, maybe I should leave it be.
Like a fucking homing beacon, I spot her, over where the female fights are, talking to a girl. But almost like she can feel my eyes on her, she looks up, her gaze tangling with mine.
Our eyes lock, and suddenly it’s like there’s no one else in here with us.
I can taste her. The softness of her skin warms beneath my fingertips. And a fire rages through me as memories of fucking her rush through me. Maybe?—
Cal nudges me. “I see him.”
I look at my brother.Shite. I push her to the dark corners of my mind and concentrate on the job at hand. “Does Hatfield know we’re after him?”
“He’s aware we’re not happy,” Callahan says. “And he missed the second and final deadline to pay money owed and interest.”
“He deals with a lot of people from different factions, yeah?”
“Maybe. Probably. His stuff is top quality.” He doesn’t need to say it’s because of us. “Why?”
