Page 18 of Protection (Mobsters + Billionaires 2)
Luca scratches his forehead. “No, Hopper. He will do no such thing.”
I gesture at Luca. “Thank you. He—whoever he is—will save the people who need to be saved.” I cut a look to the man whose name I still don't know. “I have that right, don't I?”
He nods. “That is correct. I only use deadly force when I have to. I’m Wills, by the way.”
Hopper grimaces. “Sorry! I got ahead of myself. Wills’ first name is Charles, but he goes by Wills professionally, and his friends call him Charlie.” The guy narrows his eyes, and Hopper winks at him. “Wills, Edgerton and Luca. Luca and Edgerton, Wills.”
We shake hands, and his firm grip lets me know he means business.
“So, do you know what the job is about?” I ask, trying to shovel this mess onto even ground. Luca smirks because I’m supposed to be a silent observer, but he knows I can’t sit still when shit goes off the rails.
Hell, who am I kidding? Whenever Hopper arranges something, there are no rails.
Wills, thankfully, seems happy to stay on task. “Yep. Me and my guys are gonna go extract the people enslaved by the owners of that shoe factory Wolfe Athletics would rather people forget about.”
Luca and I stare at the side of Hopper's head. Sensing our eyeballs, he slowly faces us and gives us his best grimace-face emoji. Wolfe Athletics used to have a reputation for horrific business practices, including using slave labor for manufacturing their shoes. They got enough flack that they canceled the contract, but that still left people enslaved and indentured with no way to pay off their debts.
When Randolph Wolfe, Jr.—Rand to his friends—took over as CEO, he was challenged to do better. Realizing that going through official channels would take forever, he hired Luca to expedite the process. Covertly.
“At no point was that name supposed to be associated with this mission,” Luca says, straightening his cufflinks.
“He wouldn't take it unless he knew who it was for.”
“It’s for Luca Stefano. That's all he needed to know.”
Wills’ eyes narrow at Hopper. “Hold the fucking door. This is Luca Stefano? You didn’t say this was Mafia.” Putting his finger in Hopper’s face—a terrible move, by the way—he continues, “I told you very specifically that I don’t do that shit.”
Straightening his shoulders, this Wills guy resets his body into a super-subtle defensive stance. I do a quick recalibration. Forget the ashram. I’m betting on a martial arts studio. This guy is fucking dangerous. Like, could-kill-you-with-his-thumbs dangerous. And I don’t like the way he’s looking at Luca.
Luca sends me a small headshake, but I similarly adjust my stance, cracking my neck so this Wills person can see I’m just as deadly. Ignoring me, he trains his finger on Luca. “What’s this about? Did you not like someone homing in on your human-trafficking gig?”
“I do not traffic humans,” Luca says, smooth as silk as he ignores the rude gesture.
“Bullshit. I’ve seen your escort services. I know you’ve got officials on the take.”
“All my employees are there of their own volition. I agreed to help with this mission because it matches my own feelings on the matter.”
Our visitor snorts. “A mercy mission from Luca Stefano? Nah, you’re better off sticking with the Wolfe Athletics story. Those guys, I believe. That new CEO, the pretty one with the hot boyfriend? I can see him wanting to clean things up. But you? I doubt it.”
Hopper frowns and opens his mouth. I put my hand on his arm, and Luca and I give him a warning glare. He grumbles and steps back.
“I understand your hesitation,” Luca says, sliding him the folder with all the details. “But I’m told you are trustworthy and will not attempt to re-traffic these people. I promise, if you were to do that, it would end badly for you.” He says this with a head tilt in Hopper’s direction.
Wills quickly scans the material, stopping short. He looks up at us and then back down at the paperwork.
“Yes?”
“Say I wanted to set aside all good sense and do business with Luca Stefano. You said this was in Indonesia.”
“Yes. You'll have to fly to Jakarta and then find your own way to the island.”
“That little island isn't Indonesia, and they aren’t fans of people getting freed. In fact, it’s illegal. You get caught, and they throw you in jail for the rest of what will be a very short life. And there is no American embassy to call,” he says, glaring at Hopper.
Looking back at Luca and me, perhaps having identified us as the sane ones, Wills explains, “Which is why it's so popular for enslavers to begin with.”
My jaw tightens, and I shoot a glare at Luca.
I know hiring mercenaries is a weird line to get caught on, but it is not generally illegal to hire them to save someone else. Fuck.
