Page 33 of Mafia Captor

“Had to make a run.” I leave the sentence hanging in the air, waiting to see how much she knows.

She sizes me up with her pretty blue eyes. “Debt collector for the family since your initiation. Same kind of work you did for your father before becoming a Bachman. You do your job well, using violence only when necessary. Rockland has a deep respect for your technique. Five years ago you asked to be moved to a desk job, but then changed your mind and kept with the debt collecting. To date, you’ve recovered over three million dollars for the family.”

“Shit. You really know your Bachmans.”

“It’s funny how much information you can pick up over the years.” She gives a little grin. “Also? I tried to call Tess when I first got here to see what the heck was going on. Tess wasn’t available, but her assistant spilled the beans to me. I think she liked me, for the one whole week I got to work there.”

I ignore the accusation about making her leave her job.

“Why did you ask for a desk job and then change your mind?” she asks.

“I thought I might settle down. Turns out, I didn’t.” I leave it at that.

She doesn’t push for more information.

Strange, but over the next few days our new trio falls into an easy rhythm.

Three days after the SUV tailed us, I find out who the owner is. Why they were chasing us down. And it’s a fucking shock. The driver had nothing to do with the man that owed us money. And I can’t tell Ashe. Not yet.

I continue to take care of my business, get the money that’s owed us, spilling as little blood as possible.

After that, work slows down for me. Rockland, the head of the family, knows I have business back at home, that I’m keeping Ashely close till I get this crazy situation figured out.

She’s safer here, with me, so I’ll be keeping my houseguests till I have resolution.

The days turn into weeks.

I get more information every day. It comes in bits and pieces but it’s not enough to let her go. After day five, she stopped asking me for an update, anyway.

She doesn’t seem to want to leave.

Beck is a welcome addition to the team of guys. We’re all obsessed with cars, but no one knows how to keep the damn things running. The kid’s just so likeable, that open, honest face of his has men I’ve barely spoken to pouring out their life stories to him over my famous walnut brownies in the back of the garage.

Ashe dives headfirst into managing the house, creating a mountain of spreadsheets on that first day. She’s got schedules for staff hours, breaks, she even typed up a vacation request form. Are you supposed to give them time off? I didn’t know. I don’t take time off.

She’s insisting on time off, breaks, and weekly camaraderie-building staff meals.

She’s a force to be reckoned with. And—the only person on this earth that I find I can’t say no to. I’ve found myself leaving freaking catalogues out for her, wanting her to order whatever her solid-gold heart desires. She’s just so damn… good.

Every staff member has fallen in love with her.

Even my dogs like her. My terrier, Grumps, has moved into her office. She even bought him a black-and-white checkered dog bed that sits by her feet. The traitor curls up in a ball, snoring away while she works.

The weeks feel like months with the amount of time we’re around one another. It’s getting hard to imagine my place without her. Even though my bed remains cold and empty. By some kind of miracle and a lot of long, hot morning showers, I’ve resisted touching her.

Almost every night for twenty days now, we’ve dined together, the three of us. If it’s nice, we sit in the garden, my favorite place on the estate. We sip wine as we eat. Their light sibling bickering makes me laugh. I find my grins coming easily, more frequently.

Tonight, we’re having fish and salad as the sun sets over the garden wall. A staff member comes my way, interrupting our peaceful evening. He hovers by Ashely’s side, even though he is speaking directly to me. Looks like there’s been a power shift in this house. Everyone thinks she’s in charge.

I place my fork and knife across the plate, dabbing my lips with the napkin.

“Sir,” he says. “Your mother is here.”

“Ma?” I’m not expecting her for a few weeks. What’s she doing here? Of all the times to spring a visit on me. Jesus. Not only is she going to recognize Ashe, but finding Ashe and her baby brother living with me? She liked Ashe when she met her at the Valentine’s Gala. My mom’s going to jump to some wicked hopeful grandma-like conclusions.

She cannot see these two at my house.

I stand from the table. “You two. Out of sight. Understood?”

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