Chapter 3 (GreenLee)

To say I’m pissed is an understatement. First, Ivan’s men tried to take me. Again.

Second, I’m late for the meeting. Third, Uncle Sal is going to kill me.

I storm through the front door, adrenaline still buzzing in my veins. My boots echo down the hallway as I head straight for the office. No time to calm down. No time to rehearse. I’m walking in hot.

The first person I see is Uncle Sal, seated behind his desk, looking up with concern already etched into his face. Then I spot Gio Ricci. What the hell is he doing here? I’ve met him once or twice—he’s decent, but still a Ricci.

And then I see him.

The man sitting next to Gio.

Greek. God.

No, seriously. If Zeus had a younger, hotter brother, this would be him. Short black hair styled like he just stepped out of a Milan runway. Ocean-blue eyes that could drown a girl in seconds. A jawline carved from stone. Even sitting down, he towers over Gio—and Gio’s six feet tall. So this guy’s got to be at least 6'5".

And that shirt? It’s doing God’s work. Every muscle is perfectly outlined, like the fabric was tailored just to worship his body.

Okay, GreenLee. Pull it together. You’ve got shit to do. Besides, he probably goes for blonde bimbo models who giggle at everything he says and wear heels to the gym.

I clear my throat and step into the room. All three men turn toward me.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” I say, voice steady. “I got jumped in the school parking lot.”

Their faces? Priceless.

Gio’s jaw drops. Uncle Sal’s eyes widen in horror. And Mr. Greek God—he just narrows his eyes like he’s already planning someone’s funeral.

I could’ve laughed right then and there. But I didn’t. Instead, I turned and walked back toward the garage.

“Follow me,” I say over my shoulder.

They trail behind me like confused puppies. I pop the trunk of my car and step aside.

Inside? Two of Ivan’s men. Bruised. Broken. Groaning.

The looks on their faces? Chef’s kiss. It’s taking everything in me not to burst out laughing.

“You did this all by yourself?” Gio asks, eyes wide.

“What, like it’s hard?” I reply, already annoyed.

“Well, no… but look at you,” he says, gesturing at me like I’m some fragile doll.

Okay. That’s it.

“Really?! So, because I have boobs and an ass, I can’t handle jackasses on my own?”

“GreenLee, easy,” Uncle Sal says gently, placing a hand on my shoulder. I know he means well. But I get hotheaded real fast when someone doubts me because of my gender.

“Men,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

Then the Greek God speaks. His voice is deep, commanding, and somehow even more irritating than Gio’s.

“Tell us what happened. Now.”

Excuse me? I slam the trunk shut and turn to face the three of them.

“Uncle, have Vinny and Ron take care of them for now, please?” I say, not breaking eye contact with Mr. Bossy Pants.

Uncle Sal nods and steps aside to make the call.

I turn back to the stranger. “I’m sorry, who are you again? I’ve met Gio before. But you?”

He steps forward, extending his hand. “Of course. I’m Don Ricci.”

Don?

I shake his hand, firm grip. “GreenLee Bruco.”

He looks me up and down. And I swear—he licks his lips. Then his eyes drop to my chest.

Men. Seriously?

“Sorry for being late to our meeting, Don Ricci,” I say, keeping it professional. But now that he’s standing in front of me? Damn. He’s like an Italian version of Jensen Ackles. Tall, brooding, and way too attractive for his own good.

“Luca,” he says. “You can call me Luca.”

“Okay. Well, nice to meet you, Luca.”

“Are you going to tell us what happened now?” he asks, clearly annoyed I ignored his earlier demand.

“Straight to business, I see.”

Uncle Sal walks back over. “The boys will be here in about two minutes to pick them up.”

“Great,” I say. “We can question them Saturday. Give them a few days to recover. Let them be a little fresh by then.”

All three men stare at me like I’ve grown a second head.

Shit. Right. I’m not supposed to be the boss right now.

Uncle Sal can’t exactly say I run things. So I play it off.

“Oh, right. One has a broken arm. The other a broken leg,” I giggle, trying to soften the moment.

Uncle Sal nods. “I’ll have the boys notify the doctor then. Why don’t we all head back to my office so you can explain what happened, sì?” He wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me close.

I glance up at him. He’s trying to protect me. But the cat’s out of the bag now.

And I know exactly how pissed he’s going to be.