Page 11 of The Players

“We can’t go on like this,” he reminded her. “There’s a war brewing. You don’t want to get caught up in the middle.”

“Don’t remind me,” she groaned.

“Neither Morelli nor Keegan feel any love for Franco. He’s had run-ins with both of them. You have to make a choice.”

How was it that she was still paying for Franco’s crimes? For a second, her mind went back to the night she had lost everything, and she put a hand on her stomach. Nausea crept up her dry throat and she felt her palms getting sweaty.

“I can’t think of this right now.”

“You know there’s another option.”

Leave everything behind and just disappear.

“You know I can’t do that,” she said softly. Being around her sister, her friends, was the only thing that kept her sane. Knowing she was about to become an aunt had fueled her with a renewed hope and energy.

No, running away was not an option. Neither was sticking around and keeping her head in the sand. The clock had started ticking.

She needed help.

Now.

CHAPTER 4

VINCE

Vince stared out the big windows of Detta Tower. The street below was buzzing with the evening crowd heading home. He imagined them going to a warm bed, with a soft body to curl up to as they drifted into sleep. Ideally without having a worry in the world. And even if they did, their biggest concern would be if their job was satisfying enough, or would they make the mortgage this month. That would probably sum up the scope of their lives.

In his world? Well, in his world, war was brewing. The underbelly of San Fran was swarming with new, hungry dogs, wanting to overthrow the current top dog. Kristoff Romanov, the uncrowned king to whom he and Sy had sworn allegiance. Sy more so than him, since Vince preferred to stay on the shady gray, but still legal, side of business. Mostly. Sometimes, like the other night when he had to dispose of a body, he crossed over to the dark side.

Less than a decade ago, he and his brother Gio had been on the frontlines of the murky gray sides of the law. It was his brother’s immense struggle that turned them into reputable businessmen, instead of a new generation of made men. They had to crawl, inch by inch, to get to that point. People were not forgiving, nor did they ever forget, that their father had been an enforcer who had gotten himself and his wife killed. Such was the life when you were the right-hand man of a crime boss. That stench got stuck on your name forever.

He rubbed his temples, trying to ease the pounding that had started up again. Knowing who would be walking through those doors any minute made his body hum with anticipation.

He couldn’t change the past, but he sure as hell could determine his future. And Carmen’s, even if she didn’t want him to. Everyone knew of the predicament she was in as Franco’s widow. Those casinos were like a noose around her neck. Of course, he could’ve helped her out from the sidelines, but then she would’ve just disappeared out of his life. Call him a selfish asshole, but her casino trouble was exactly the leverage he needed over her. He just needed the right time and place to wield its power.

This time, he was a man, no longer a teenager. And he had the power to amass a damn army if that was what it took to protect her.

To make her forgive you, you mean.

There’s no forgiveness for what I’ve done.

A knock sounded on the door. Then Gio’s secretary let in Carmen. She looked pretty shaken up, but as beautiful as ever in a gray pencil skirt and button-up blouse.

She tensed when she spotted him. Her reaction hurt. It hadn’t always been like that between them. Once, he had been the one she ran to.

“I came for Gio,” she said, still standing in the doorway.

He gestured for her to enter. When she hesitated, he asked, “You planning on letting Gale stand behind you all day?”

A blush covered her cheeks, but she did finally step inside. Gale shut the door behind her and for the first time in over a decade, they were alone.

Vince sat on the corner of the desk and studied her. She was petite compared to her sister, Jazzy, who was more curvy. They both had dark curls, though Carmen’s were much longer, as her glossy hair reached her lower back. It wasn’t just their looks that were different. Carmen was more of an introvert. But she hadn’t always been that way. There had been a time she’d been just as brash and outspoken as her sister. And then she’d been given to a sadist who had slowly snuffed the life and joy out of her.

He’d known Caruso’s reputation as a cruel bastard. Everyone did. What he hadn’t taken into account was that Caruso would be one to his own wife. High-profile made men with a taste for BDSM usually lived two lives: a tranquil one with his wife, to paint the world a pretty picture, and one with his mistress. It wasn’t until the night Carmen had stabbed Franco, and Vince himself had finished the fucker, that he’d truly learned the extent of her abuse.

“What can I do for you, Carmen?”

“Nothing. I’m here for Gio.”

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