Page 40 of Craving Danger

“It could be one of the cartels,” Angelo mentions.

I shake my head. “They’d send Steve’s body to us in pieces. This doesn’t feel like their work.”

“I’ll see what I can find out,” Dario offers. The man is a wizard when it comes to hacking into systems and finding shit.

“There’s not much we can do right now,” Damiano says as he rises to his feet. “Put everyone on high alert just in case this is the start of something.”

Angelo gets up as well. “I better get back to my wife.”

I give the men a chin lift before they leave, then turn my attention to Renzo and Dario.

When Dario just keeps staring at me, I glare at him. “Don’t even fucking ask.”

His tone is filled with laughter when he goes against my wish and asks, “So, are you fucking your PA?”

“Fuck off,” I mutter before downing the rest of the whiskey in the tumbler.

“I’d like to hear the answer as well,” Renzo joins in.

“No, I’m not.”

“You don’t attend any functions unless we force you to,” Dario says. “And you weren’t working late with her.”

“Christ, you’re like a dog with a fucking bone,” I growl. “I’m just spending time with her. It’s nothing romantic.”

Both men give me a skeptical look.

“You’re just spending time with her.” Dario shakes his head at me. “Suuuuure.”

“I’m just helping her deal with some shit,” I admit, so they’ll shut up about the matter.

“You’re helping your PA? Willingly?” Renzo asks, his voice thick with laughter. “Hell has officially frozen over.”

I set the tumbler down and climb to my feet. “I’m going home.”

“Aww, just as we’re getting to the interesting part,” Dario taunts me.

When I walk to the private elevator, they burst out laughing like a couple of fucking teenagers.

I step inside, and as the doors start to close, I give them the middle finger.

Fuckers.

My phone starts to vibrate, and I quickly pull it out of my pocket. Whenever I get a call at one in the morning, I know it’s not good news.

Seeing Brian’s name flashing on the screen, I answer, “I’ve already returned your car.”

“That’s not why I’m calling.”

The elevator doors open, and I walk to where Milo and Lorenzo are waiting by the G-Wagon.

“What’s up?”

“It’s Miss Blakely. She wants to know whether you can call her.”

No, I can’t. I spend half the day talking to her over the phone. She might recognize my voice.

“I’ll deal with it,” I mutter before hanging up. Looking at Milo, I say, “Let’s go home.”

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