The Enigmatic Mafia Boss

Beatrice’s POV

My phone buzzes in my front pocket, and all I can think about is checking it. I shift in the metal chair, keeping my hands folded on the old aluminum conference table that’s definitely seen better days.

The warehouse is empty except for the six of us. It’s a strange situation, but I’ve learned the right questions to ask and which ones to steer clear of. At least we have a table. This is a negotiation, not a fight. The table matters.

My heart is racing, but I’ve gotten used to that feeling. The pounding in my chest is my tell, and I’m glad the others can’t hear it, even when it’s thumping in my ears. I’ve trained hard for this double life, at least on the surface.

“Listen,” I let a bit of impatience creep into my tone. “Sierra is going to be furious when she finds out you’re messing with her.” The chill in the air should have been my first clue that this meeting wouldn’t go well. It’s so cold that I half-expect to see my breath. Fred’s too stingy to pay for the heat we need to make this deal work.

“Next time, she better show up herself, or we’ll handle things differently.” Fred’s gun glints at me as he casually flips his suit jacket.

I shoot him a look and hold back an eye roll. Guys who feel the need to brandish their guns to prove something really annoy me. “Congrats on having a gun. I’ve got four.” The one tucked in my leather jacket would take him out before he even had a chance to draw his outdated piece. No wonder he’s looking for an arms deal.

“I can sense she’s not going to want anything to do with you after this move.” I keep my expression calm, but inside, I’m frustrated about this missed chance. “Give me a call when you’re actually serious about working with us. She might still be interested.” I nod to the two guys who came with me, and they follow my lead.

“What’s she paying you, Tris? I’ll double it.” Fred shifts in his seat.

As I head toward the door, a knot forms in my stomach. My mind should be focused on this conversation, but I can’t shake off the message buzzing on my phone. I call back, “You couldn’t afford me, Fred. I’m out of your league.”

“You’ve got guts.” He laughs as I keep moving. The warehouse is massive, cluttered with his steel products, and his voice bounces off the walls, making it hard to ignore him. I’m not sure what he’s after with Sierra, but I doubt it’s anything good.

I stop just before the exit, shaking my head and glancing back at him, flanked by Sierra’s two big guys. “I’d take diamonds over-steel balls any day.”

Fred’s smile disappears, and his chair scrapes loudly as he stands up. His two companions are like shadows behind him. “You want diamonds? I can make that happen.”

“Forget you ever had my number.” I shove the emergency exit door, and it swings open. “Unless you’ve got cash for the deal.”

The door slams shut behind the last guy as we make our way to the black SUV parked in the empty gravel lot. The sky’s a deep blue-black, and the melting snow is forming puddles in the potholes. Springs’ on the horizon, but it hasn’t quite arrived yet. We’ll probably get hit with another cold snap soon.

“What a waste of time.” I pull out my phone as it buzzes again.

“Is that Sierra?” Grey raises his dark eyebrows while he opens the back door for me. His short brown hair gets tousled by a sudden gust of wind.

“Could be.” I duck down, squeezing my nearly six-foot frame into the car, but I don’t pull out the phone.

Why are they reaching out to me?

The FBI set this phone to vibrate differently for their texts. When it buzzed during the meeting, I was worried someone would catch my reaction. Raising suspicion among my colleagues could mean my end—shot without a second thought.

The car lurches forward, and Grey mutters an apology as I concentrate on my hands, flipping them over.

My pocket vibrates again, and when I glance down at my hands, they’re drenched in blood.

“Tris?” He tries to meet my eyes in the mirror. “Sierra is going to be furious.”

I lift my head and tuck my hands under my thighs, sliding along the sleek black leather, letting out a low chuckle. “I told Sierra there’s no way Fred’s buying from us. He’s broke and has no need for guns.”

Having Sierra make me the main contact for the deal felt like a step forward, so I didn’t push back too much.

“He’s definitely got a use for you,” Grey says, locking eyes with me.

“He wouldn’t know how to handle me.” I lean back in my seat, watching the skyline whiz by. The city’s skyline is one of my favorite things, especially at dusk when the lights shimmer on the lake.

“Have you ever worked for a guy before?” Grey asks as he checks the mirrors.

The new guy next to him, whose name escapes me, chimes in, “She’s way too much of a ballbuster to work for a guy.”

Grey shoots him an annoyed look. “Sierra will take care of you for saying that about Tris.”

“I can handle shooting him myself,” I reply, keeping my tone light.

The city outside blurs past, and I can’t shake the thought of my phone, but pulling it out now feels too risky.

“Yeah, I’ve worked for a few guys. I try to avoid it. They’re always too focused on their egos.”

The new guy laughs, and Grey gives him another sideways glance.

I get why he’s confused. He’s missing Grey’s silent cue.

Over the seat, he’s checking out my dark ponytail tied up high and my pants. “What are you, anyway? You seem kind of exotic. I can’t quite figure it out.”

I shoot him a frosty look and reply, “Your hands should stay far away from me.” Next to me and Grey, this kid looks like a total ghost.

“You’re about to get fired, dude.” Grey shakes his head, gripping the steering wheel tighter as we hit the busy traffic. “Keep talking like that, and you might find yourself wearing concrete shoes at the bottom of the lake.”

The color drains from his face. At least he’s smart enough to take Grey seriously. He looks like he’s in his early twenties, just a kid trying to make a quick buck. Everything about him reminds me of someone I’d rather forget but can’t shake off.

“That’s not a real thing,” he stammers.

“They’re all real things,” Grey replies. “You don’t mess with these people, Prime. The stereotypes, the rumors, the stuff you see on TV—most of it comes from real-life experiences.”

Ah, so that’s his name. Not that I’ll need to remember it after this chat.

The car rolls to a stop in front of my four-story brown brick apartment building. The trees along the street are well-established, their branches drooping over the sidewalk and road.

The streetlights are functional, and there’s a security guard at the front door. Not that I really need one. I picked this neighborhood on purpose. It’s not too shabby, but it’s not brand new either.

Sierra has suggested I move in with her outside the city, but I can’t do that. While it might simplify some parts of the job, it would complicate others way too much.

“I didn’t mean anything by what I said,” Prime says, sounding unsure.

He’s not as tall as Grey, and when we stand up, we’re about the same height. I’m probably a decade older than him, but that age difference feels huge right now. I’ve been working this job with Sierra for nearly a year, but it feels like it’s my entire life.

“You’re not cut out for this, Prime. You should quit before you get hurt.” I’m halfway out the door when I glance back at Grey and say, “Let Sierra know I have some personal stuff to take care of. I’ll be back in a few days.”

“Your brother?” His brown eyes show concern.

“Yeah.” I nod briefly. “It’s the anniversary of his death.”

“I’ll pass it along.”

I bang the door shut behind me and step into the building, giving a quick wave to the security guard at the front desk. In the elevator, I rest my hand on my phone in my pocket. How much time do I really have?

At my apartment door, I slide the key into the lock. My hands are steady, but my heart is racing as I step inside. I lock everything up tight and pull out my phone.

Checking the time and the timestamp on the text, I think I can pull this off. It’s going to be close. I open the closet by the entryway, grab my pre-packed bag, and unlock the door.

Then, I slip out into the night.