Page 67 of Righteous Deceit

CJ waits just outside the elevator when the doors open. He’s only just arrived home, still dressed in his tuxedo, car keys still in his hand.

“Is Aless—”

I walk forward and slam a fist into his face without preamble.

He stumbles backward.

I wait for him to right himself before clocking him once more.

“What the fuck?” he screams.

“If you ever question mywifeon why she married me and not you again, I don’t care who you are or how many connections you have, I’ll kill you.”

He stands to full height slowly, rubbing the back of his hand against his broken nose.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing with Alessia,” he starts.

I hold up a hand. “None of your business. Alessia and I are none of your fucking business. Hear me?”

He remains quiet.

“Do. You. Hear. Me?”

He dips his chin once.

I move to leave, stepping into the elevator. He holds his hand against the doors, undisturbed by the blood dripping over his face. “If you hurt her, remember that I have enough money to make sure the world forgets you ever existed.”

I stare at him.

“Do you hear me?”

I remain quiet.

“Do. You. Hear. Me?”

I dip my chin, and he lets go of the elevator doors. “Tell Phillip he’s fired for letting you up.”

I flip him off.

* * *

It’s early afternoon,and I’m counting hundred-dollar bills out in lots of a thousand in preparation for this evening’s poker game in the club. Women dance, shaking their bare asses and perky tits, but I take no notice.

We’re tucked into the back of the club in a booth not visible to the clientele. Leonardo’s supposed to be helping, which means his eyes are set on swinging tits and thongs that are one move away from showing off some dancer’s waxed labia.

As soon as he sees hard nipples, he’s like a child begging for candy. Anyone would think he’s never seen a pair before. I roll my eyes and make another line on the notepad as I pile another grand away.

When Bruno was killed a few years back for plotting to kill Lorenzo’s wife, Lorenzo promoted me in his place. Bruno ran point on our illegal gambling ring. Poorly, I might add. The books were a train wreck, and he’d pissed off so many suppliers and players that it’s taken years to build it back up to where it’s thriving. When I’m in town, I help out where I can, but Lorenzo knows I’m better placed for work that takes me around the country when he needs a ranking member to take care of business. I’ve taken to keeping my feet firmly planted in New York City since Alessia Bianchi became Alessia Greco, which means Lorenzo has expected my ass to deal with my charge.

“How’s the new wife liking New York?” Leonardo reluctantly turns his attention away from the girl near our table after tucking one of the Benjamin Franklins I’m counting into her underwear.

“Should I tell Enzo you’re stealing from the family?”

He flips me off, refilling his glass of bourbon. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“What?”

“Alessia. New York. Does she like it?”

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