Deception (Infidelity #3)(66)

All at once, Charli gasped and tensed. Then she turned, her small hands moving up my chest and framing my face. In the darkened room, her eyes opened, blinking as if she couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing.

“Y-you’re here?” Her voice was thick with sleep.

I kissed her forehead and nodded, my kisses raining downward over her nose and finally her lips. “Yes, princess, I’m here.”

“But, why? You’re in Washington.”

“No. I was in Washington. Now I’m here. You are more important than anything there or anywhere.”

She shook her head. “You shouldn’t have. I don’t want to interrupt your work.”

I pulled her closer, the soft material of her top doing little to cover the pebbling her earlier chill had brought to her nipples, now against my bare chest. “Never, ever, think anything is more important than you. You were upset.”

Charli continued to move her head back and forth. “No, Nox. It’s what he said. I don’t want to do that to you. I’ll be upset. You don’t have to take care of me or rescue me.”

He said?

“I don’t have to,” I confirmed. “I want to. I want to be there for you, when you’re upset, when you’re happy…” My hands roamed down the small of her back and over her round ass. “…and whenever you breathe.”

Charli sighed as she melted against me and tilted her head against my chest. “Thank you.”

I started to ask her what she was talking about when she said something about it being what he said, but by the way her body fit perfectly against mine, the way her breathing steadied, and the way she relaxed in my arms, I let her sleep.

“I love you, princess.”

Her unspoken contentedness was all I needed to drift away.





PEOPLE EASED THEIR way between tables, filling most of the chairs. I watched as some people took more than their fair share of space. For a weeknight, the little restaurant off the beaten path was crowded. It was a local treasure. Tourists liked the flashy new places, but this was where the residents congregated, where the food and drinks never disappointed. From my vantage point, I could see the entire room. It was mostly filled with couples, sipping wine and talking close. That was what couples did: they leaned near one another and shared their space, their breath.

If I were home, I might be doing that. Who was I kidding? More than likely not.

I glanced again at my watch. I was early, waiting for Vincent to arrive. It was one of those meetings that I couldn’t or wouldn’t miss. Since he’d taken over the family business, my command appearances were required less frequently than they’d been under Carmine’s regime. Since Carmine had passed away, somehow Vincent’s less frequent requests made them seem more significant, as if each one was of extreme importance.

It didn’t matter that it was nearly ten o’clock or that I’d promised Angelina I’d be home early tonight. My marriage and the happiness of it was less of a concern to Angelina’s cousin than it had been to her uncle.

Vincent was all about profit, money, and keeping it flowing.

The world was changing and my attempt at legitimate business was the kick-start the Costellos needed and utilized. While his father had been more old-school, Vincent was younger—my age—and saw the promising ways of the future: the new millennium and technology.

No longer did families need bodies on every corner, watching from the shadows. Surveillance technology was the new answer. One man could watch dozens or more places of business. Conversations could be heard, everything up to the dropping of a pen. Secrets were getting harder and harder to conceal, and it was just the way Vincent liked it.

The guys younger than us admired his fortitude as well as his savvy. Vincent was branching out by including other families, ones his father had ignored.

I had to admit that Angelina’s cousin was smart. He also had a level head. It was a lethal combination.

The families weren’t the only ones with the ability to listen and record. Hell, the feds had done it to them in the eighties. Now it was sleeker and more sophisticated and didn’t require the muscle of the old days. Cameras and bugs uncovered dirt—knowledge. As they say, knowledge was power.

Vincent Costello was all about power.

I looked down at the screen of my Blackberry. The little handheld device was revolutionary. I could check email, look up information on my companies, see stocks in real time, and even send messages to my wife.

The problem was with receiving messages from Angelina. She had to send them first.

From my Manhattan office I texted her after I’d received Vincent’s call and explained that there wasn’t time for me to go home to Westchester and then make it back to Brooklyn. At the most I would have been home for an hour or two.

It made more sense for me to stay at the office and do my daily analysis.

She’d yet to respond.

Some of the different companies, businesses, enterprises—whatever I called them—beneath the Demetri umbrella required constant supervision. Ledgers needed to be watched. In the world of business, I had many qualified employees, vice presidents and CEO’s of minor subsidiaries. I didn’t trust one of them, not one.

Thankfully, as technology improved so did my ability to oversee. I had daily, weekly, and monthly reports. I had accountants who double-checked the first set of accountants. It was a checks-and-balances system to rival any, and it worked. Demetri Enterprises was growing, buying, and expanding. I’d moved beyond the boroughs, beyond the East Coast.