Page 31 of Of Desire And Deception

“That’s awful,” I breathed, shocked by his candor.

“Yeah, I didn’t think we’d get her back,” he admitted, running a hand down his face. “She never told me exactly what happened, but I know the Neretti family had something to do with saving her down in Florida.”

“That’s a pretty far reach.” I knew the youngest daughter lived in Florida and wondered about the potential connection there. Of course, a crime family with as much influence as the Nerettis would have contacts nationwide, but any new information about their movements and associates could prove useful.

“I didn’t ask about it,” he offered. “But when I got a job opportunity here, I took it. They’ll have my loyalty as long as they want it.”

“That’s understandable.” I couldn’t blame him. That kind of indebtedness bred unwavering dedication. I could mark Zach off the list of people who would turn against his employer.

He popped his knuckles and tipped his head toward the opposite end of the bar. “Duty calls.”

The next few hours passed quickly. Franco came in and set up shop at a corner booth where he could work on something and watch the room. Likely ordering supplies since he took our inventory numbers every week. I’d just taken an order when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

There was no rule against having it on me, but I typically left it in my purse in the employee room. While I added the drink to the customer’s tab, I used my other hand to pull my phone out, seeing the all-clear message.

I resisted the urge to look up at where the cameras were in the ceiling. Instead, I looked for a reason to go to the back that wouldn’t seem suspicious. First, I had to make a drink.

When I pulled the bottle of vodka from the shelf, I had my opportunity. It was the last of the spirit, and we hadn’t restocked for the night. Needing alcohol was a better excuse than female problems.

I deposited the glass in front of the customer and held the bottle up, catching Zach’s attention. “I’m going to run and grab more!”

He nodded, and I tossed the bottle, my eyes darting around to ensure I wasn’t being watched as I grabbed a pair of the black gloves we had to wear if we got cut. I slipped through the door to the back, and the club music grew quieter. The camera by the back door didn’t have a blinking red light. Go time.

Since I’d made the drink, I was giving myself eight minutes. I noted the time on my phone and headed straight for Franco’s office as I slipped the gloves onto my hands.

He’d left the light on, so I went straight to the computer and shook the mouse, bringing up the screen. I pulled out my phone and recorded the screen as I scrolled to take a closer look at the file names later. It only took a few minutes to get what I needed on the computer before I opened the desk drawers and flipped through folders that all looked like ordinary business expenses.

I filmed those, too, then stood back and swept the camera across the room in case I missed something. That was all the time I could give Luca’s office. I set the computer to sleep and moved across the hall to Cosimo’s office.

I cracked the door open and listened in the dark before finding the light switch on the wall and illuminating the room. It smelled like him—leather, cleaner, and something herbaceous. Ignoring the tightening between my legs at the memory of what we’d done on that couch, I moved forward, tapping the power button on the laptop.

While it booted up, I turned my camera on and searched the drawers, carefully putting everything back exactly where Cosimo kept it. He was a fucking neat freak, which meant he was more likely to notice if something was out of place. I felt sweat drip down my back as I filmed, finding nothing. Not even paperwork. What the hell did he even do at the club?

I was even more astonished when his laptop wasn’t password protected. What kind of criminal left electronics vulnerable?

One that has nothing to hide.

Impossible.

There had to be something. I clicked through the files, scrolling quickly and looking for anything that stood out. Things got more suspicious when I opened his company email and found nothing but business correspondence. Nothing looked like a red flag.

Sighing, I shut the computer down. Cosimo had to be dirty, despite how fucking clean his office was. I was looking at a red herring. A cover. He didn’t do his criminal activity at Deception.

I did a pass of the office with my camera and transferred everything to an encrypted file to check out after work, then got my ass out of there. It only took a moment to grab three bottles of vodka from the storeroom, though they were on the top shelf. I hoped that if Zach asked, I could plead short girl privilege and tell him it took a while to figure out how to get them down.

With my arms laden with bottles, I made my way back behind the bar, where Zach barely noticed my return. I threw myself back into work, finally relaxing after an hour of slinging drinks. I couldn’t tell whether the floor cameras were back on since they didn’t have the same red lights as the cameras in the back.

Right before closing, the door to the back swung open, and Cosimo stormed through with three huge men in suits. Neretti guards.

Shit.

My eyes darted around, looking for a quick escape if necessary, but the men in suits had fanned out, standing by the doors. Cosimo sat across from Franco, their heads close as they spoke. Cosimo’s body language remained relaxed, but the occasional tight hand motion betrayed his agitation.

Keeping tabs on him, I started wiping down the bar and going through the closing steps. Zach had already given the last call, and now the empty glasses were coming in as servers cleared the tables. When the patrons had filtered out, Cosimo sat heavily in his usual spot, and I slung the bar towel over my shoulder and leaned my elbows on the counter, boldly meeting his gaze.

“Can I get you something, boss man?” Whatever was going on, losing my usual confidence would only make things worse.

“Not tonight, goldilocks,” he answered, rubbing his jaw. The man looked as delicious as always in his usual black outfit, but his hair fell across his forehead tonight. I curled my fingers into a fist to stop myself from pushing the dark lock off his face.

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