Dean Nelson watched from his tinted windows as Bianca Gomez drove away breezily. He had found out where she was staying and he intended to get into the apartment and familiarise himself with it better.
Something like a welcome gift when she returned from wherever she had zoomed off to, with that lumbering giant in her wake…
He had turned up a little late and had not seen St Just get into the vehicle and leave.
*
Bianca breezed into the parking area for the people working in the building a short while later. A couple of people noticed her car and commented on it. She made sure to say that she had left it at a friend’s the previous day. Bianca Cruz was nothing if not resourceful. She had no intention of getting caught in the crossfire if someone were to discover how she was related to the Masters.
But even as she sat down to work, she sighed as she thought, suddenly, of O’Grady, his bulk and his fierceness and she blushed as she recalled how he had made her feel that day in the car.
She had been sizzling with desire, though he had not been kind and attentive. Yet his harshness had only made her dig her fingers into his muscled back and rise her hips, welcoming the way he rammed into her, brutally.
“Get a hold of yourself, Girl!’ she muttered to herself as she turned to her work and almost jumped when an amused voice said,
“Talking to yourself, already, Bianca?”
Turning her pink face to the door, Bianca beamed at the cheerful Mal lounging in the doorway, a Starbucks to-go cup in her hands.
I sniffed. Was that the aroma of…Coffee?
Mal beamed and her big belly shook as she held it out to me.
“Got it for you, girl.” She said and I rushed to her and hugged her impulsively.
‘Hey, what’s the hug for?” said Roger who had appeared behind her.
“Got her a Pink drink,” said Mal, and I laughed happily.
Just last afternoon, when we were discussing coffee flavours, I had expressed puzzlement when they spoke about the strawberry acai base, coconut milk, and freeze-dried strawberries drink, from the Refreshers line of Starbucks.
“It’s fruity, refreshing, and very Instagram-friendly,” Roger had quipped as he read the blurb and held up a picture of the drink.
Sinking onto a chair now, I sipped it and sighed.
“Ah, heaven!” I giggled and we chatted for a while before they drifted off to their larger cubicles while I returned to my tiny work area.
Humming softly, I was soon immersed in work but my mind kept flitting to O’Grady. St Just was an absolute darling and I shook my head as I tried to picture him as a mean Dom, with chains and leathers or whatever it was that they used.
*
Liam O’Grady had a call from Claude Delano that afternoon.
‘” I hear you’re fighting next week?” began the young Delano without preamble, his voice cheerful and frank.
O’Grady scratched his unshaven jaw.
He had to put in another round of practice tomorrow. It was too late tonight.
The burly Irishman caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror as he turned to the windows overlooking the streets.
It was raining now and dusk was falling.
“Yup,” he growled and the young man on the other end of the line chuckled.
“Sounds like you need a good f*ck, my man.” chortled Claude and O’Grady almost sputtered.
“My Pappa sounds that way when he has not screwed my Mumma, y’know, if they have had a lover’s spat and stuff…” went on the Delano scion blithely.
O’Grady shook his head in amazement. He had met Lucien Delano, the powerful mob Boss, the undisputed King of the Mafia and he had felt awe as he looked at the man with the body of a boxer, still fit and in form, though he was sixty, as Claude had confided once.
And he had heard of the Mafia Don’s wife, his Woman, as he called her, a beauty almost half his age, and how Lucien Delano, who had been a serial womanizer, had been transformed. He was dedicated to his Woman and was insanely possessive about her too.
O’Grady scratched his chest and thought of how it must be to live with just one woman and to love in that way. He knew already, that the Don had a huge family; eleven kids, ten of who were his.
He quickly continued his conversation with the ebullient Claude who signed out after reminding O’Grady of a meeting he was fixing up with the great Don himself.
*
O’Grady looked around.
St Just had left for Washington; they had a couple of political leaders who needed to be pandered to and his brother was good at that.
O’Grady had seen how his brother had taken the time to call Bianca and tell he that he woul not be around tonight.
And as he left, St Just had gripped his arm and said in a low tone,
“Go and keep her company, O’Grady.”
He decided that he would do just that. But first, he would check the Casinos, make things were just fine and then spend the night with the Pet…
*
Bianca
When I drove into the darkened basement parking allotted to me, I looked into the rearview mirror and smiled. Barry was behind me, his solid bulk on the bike reassuring me. With the bandana and the handlebar moustache, he looked every bit the big bad biker he was supposed to be.
I waited till he joined me and we proceeded to the elevators. Barry King was not a man who spoke much but I chattered away happily. A silent audience was better than no audience, I reasoned, for St Just had told me that the was going to be away in Washington for a few days.
But the moment we stepped onto our floor, I knew something was wrong. Bary had seen the front door which stood ajar too.
He whirled to face me, his face stiff as he growled,
“Miss, did you lock up in the morning?”
I nodded, fear making me white-faced.
“Yes…” I stammered. He pulled out a gun from his jacket and I froze.
“Stay here, he commanded and I stood still.
He pushed open the door furtively and entered. I stood, still as a statue.
What was happening? I thought. The rest of the floor was unoccupied. Barry stayed in the apartment opposite mine; the other two were empty.
Then I heard Barry speaking. He was on the phone.
And I stiffened as I realized, he was talking to O’Grady.
“Boss, bad news… someone broke in