005. Come work for me

JAYCE BECKETT

When I woke up to find myself lying on a bed in an unfamiliar room, the first question that popped into my head was whether I had been caught.

As I looked out the window to survey my surroundings, I realized I was in a place that bore a striking resemblance to Renato Marino's villa, just like the one that had been shown to us in the conference room during our investigation into the Marino family's crime case.

It was clear that Renato Marino had brought me here, to his home.

However, one thing that left me perplexed was the fact that he had treated my bullet wound. But why?

Criminals like him didn't typically treat their victims with such care. It would have made more sense if I had awoken to find myself tied to a lab table, perhaps with my arms missing or my toes chopped off.

Did Renato Marino not know who I was? Did he feel indebted to me because I had gotten shot on his behalf?

And what about him? Had he really escaped unscathed, or had the damn druggie actually killed him?

"Fuck," I cursed, my voice barely above a whisper as I frantically searched for my shirt to put it on, to hide the ugly looking plaster wrapper around my chest.

The part of my chest where I'd been shot still throbbed with pain, but that wasn't my top priority right now. I had far more pressing concerns to worry about.

My eyes scanned the room, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted my shirt neatly folded on the table beside the bed I'd awoken on.

"I can think about whatever the fuck I want later. But now, I have to get the fuck out of this place." I muttered to myself, grabbing my shirt and preparing to put it on.

But before I could, the door swung open, and my heart skipped a beat.

My eyes widened in shock, and my mouth hung open in sheer horror as Renato Marino strode into the room, closing the door behind him.

The shirt slipped from my grasp, and my legs took a step backward of their own accord as Renato took a deliberate step forward.

Each step he took, I mirrored with a step back, my mind racing with questions.

What the fuck was going on in his head? Was I being caught? Had he already figured out who I was? Was he here to kill me?

The questions swirled through my mind like a maelstrom, and I was on the verge of turning and making a desperate dash for the door.

But then Renato suddenly stopped in his tracks, a soft, enigmatic smile spreading across his face. It was a smile that made him appear almost... benevolent, like a generous devil. And it scared me.

It scared me because it was a smile that hinted at secrets, at motives I couldn't quite grasp.

"Do you feel better?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, like honey dripping from a spoon. It was a voice that made me do a double take, a voice that sent shivers down my spine.

Was this really the same Renato Marino we'd been discussing in our conference meetings? Was this truly the same ruthless, bloody thirsty demon I had pictured in my mind?

"If you're feeling any discomfort, please let me know," he said, his eyes scanning my chest as if to check for any signs of distress. "You saved my life; the least I can do is watch over you and ensure you're okay."

His words caught me off guard. Did he genuinely believe I had saved his life? Did he think I had intervened to prevent his death?

Perhaps my mission was still viable. Maybe I still had a chance to get close to Renato Marino without him discovering my true identity.

I studied his demeanor, searching for any inconsistencies. "I'm fine now," I replied, forcing a nervous laugh as I watched Renato Marino nod and walk towards the single sofa in the room.

I kept my eyes fixed on him, following his every move, and deciding to remain vigilant, hoping he might inadvertently reveal some information.

"Please, sit down," he said, smiling and gesturing to the bed which was now across from him. "Don't make me feel bad for sitting while you stand."

I hesitated, clearing my throat before responding, "Right. Yes."

My heart pounded heavily against my chest as I reluctantly walked over to the bed and took my seat, watching Renato with an intensity that bordered on paranoia.

I felt like a hawk watching its prey, my senses heightened as I waited for him to make his next move.

"You are brave," he said, his voice low and smooth, just like a butter. "I've never seen someone jump into danger for a stranger before. Because of you, I'm still alive and breathing." He chuckled softly, and for a moment, I forgot that I was sitting across from a ruthless Mafia boss.

Everything about him screamed "gentleman," from his polished demeanor to his refined features. If I didn't know better, I would have mistaken Renato Marino for a wealthy businessman, not a cold-blooded beast.

But as I gazed deeper into his eyes, I saw a glimmer of something more sinister lurking beneath the surface.

A sly smirk lingered on his face, and the side of his neck was painted with fresh blood, making my stomach churn with disgust. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I took in the rest of his appearance.

His body was void of tattoos, and nothing about his features gave him away as a Mafia boss. Instead, his fingers were adorned with silver skull rings, and a silver nose ring sat perfectly on his nose. Both sides of his eyebrows were pierced, and I couldn't help but wonder which other parts of his body were similarly pierced.

His nipples?

Cock?

Navel?

I mentally scolded myself for even thinking about it. "Fuck you, Jayce," I hissed, shifting nervously on my seat. Biting on my bottom lip. "You can't seriously be thinking about useless things right now."

Just as I was starting to get my thoughts under control, Renato suddenly spoke up, making my head snap up to meet his gaze.

His silver orbs pierced deeply into my eyes, and I could tell he was assessing me. But why? Was he suspecting me? Was I fucking up the mission just by shivering? But how can I not?

I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my spine as I waited for him to continue.

"I have a question," he said, his voice dripping with curiosity.

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in anticipation. What did he want to know? And how much should I tell him?

I should probably stop shivering like a drenched cat, but it was impossible to still my trembles when Renato Marino, one of the most notorious mafia families in New York, sat across from me in this tiny room.

His gaze was fixed on me, his eyes narrowing as if sizing me up like a business venture he was considering.

"Wh—what's the question?" I stuttered, biting down hard on my inner cheek as my lips quivered uncontrollably.

"Jayce Beckett, get a fucking grip on yourself," I groaned inwardly, secretly pinching my thighs to stop myself from doing or saying something that would put me at risk.

I can't fuck this up, my nephew's life depended on this mission.

Renato slowly raised his eyebrows, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. "What were you doing, sitting down next to me in the bar last night? And how were you so fast in blocking the bullet, as if you already knew I was going to get shot? Who are you, really?"

Fuck!

Fucking fuck!

I couldn't believe I hadn't created a solid cover story before infiltrating Renato Marino's territory. What the fuck was I going to say now? How could I explain what had happened?

"I..." I trailed off, rubbing my chest, desperately searching for a distraction or a way to buy some time.

Renato's eyes narrowed, his gaze intensifying. "Your chest," he called out, pointing to my wound. "You're clutching it way too much. Does it still hurt?"

Fuck, yeah.

The pain was excruciating, but I could use it to my advantage.

I nodded, clenching my jaw as a wave of agony washed over me. "It does hurt a lot, but don't mind me, I didn't regret saving your life."

Renato's expression softened, and he let out a deep breath of relief. "Hmm." A sly grin spread across his face. "Which gang do you belong to?"

I stuttered, my mind racing for a plausible answer. "Eh? Em, well..."

I scratched my head, feeling like a dumb idiot.

Jayce Beckett, how could you not think this through before coming at him?! Seriously?

"I..." I opened my mouth to say whatever came to mind, but Renato chimed in, his smile growing wider.

"It doesn't seem like you're already affiliated with any gang," Renato said, a small, enigmatic smile playing on his lips. "Come work for me."

I was taken aback, my head snapping up in shock. Why the fuck was Renato making this a little too easy for me? Was this a trap? Was he trying to lure me in with a false sense of security?

"I..." I stuttered, rubbing my hands together anxiously.

What the fuck should I do? Renato's offer was both enticing and terrifying. If I accepted, I would be walking right into the lion's den, but if I declined, I would be giving up a golden opportunity to gather intel and bring him down.

"If..." Renato began, standing up from the sofa, his movements fluid and deliberate. "If you don't want to work for me, that's okay. I'll have one of my boys bring you a generous sum of money to compensate you for your bravery. They'll drive you home, if you want."

Renato's smile grew wider, his eyes glinting with amusement as he turned to leave. I watched, my heart racing, as my target walked away, the prize money for Curtis's surgery slipping through my fingers like sand.

"Wait!" I yelled, leaping off the bed.

Renato paused, his hand on the doorknob, and turned to face me. His eyebrows rose, a silent question mark. It seemed like Renato hadn't discovered my true identity.

This was my chance to get close to him, to gather intel and bring him down for good.

"I..." I trailed off, dropping to my knees, my head bowed in a gesture of feigned submission. "I will serve you with my last breath, boss!" I vowed, my voice dripping with false devotion.

This was a golden opportunity, and I was determined to use it to my advantage. I would be the one to bring Renato Marino to his knees, to lock him and his damned family behind bars and ensure they all received the punishment they all deserved for their crimes.