Chapter 7: A Problem

Dominic’s POV

The police were gone.

The flashing lights, the blaring sirens, thebullshit raid—it was over.

But the mess they left behind? That was stillhere.

The air was filled with the stench of mixed liquor with sweat bodies and cheap dancer perfume from those who fled at the first signs of trouble. Tables littered on their sides, glass shattering under my feet, and my boys were otherwise occupied doing their part of business: wiping out whatever would get cops one step nearer that building. Business as usual.

But for me, no business, nothing else.

I was enveloped by the girl.

Elena Monroe.

She had entered my world with an open, rightful sense of ownership. She stood before me, broken among the mighty, unmoved and unshaken, utterly unaffected. As if she were above the plane of knowledge that there was a lion's den.

And out she just walked.

No rush. Not even a quiver of fear.

Marched out right in front of a man who had just appraised her and knew in one snap he could kill her.

Big breath in, shoulders rolling back, tension creeping up gradually from the depths. But I could see through it all, she was still the submissive little girl.

Tilting my head slightly to the side, Leo.

He was standing off to one side, arms folded, lips pressed tightly together in a stifled laugh.

He turned back to me.

The air pressure kept growing.

I faced him, almost whispering, "Were you just fucking standing there?"

Leo blinked and shifted."I—"

"So you let her come over and speak to me like that?" I interrupted.

Leo was nose-breathing, obviously restraining a laugh. "She blindsided you, boss. Not much I could do."

I rubbed a hand across my face. This fuckin' asshole.

"She blindsided me."

"Right."

"I let her ramble."

"Of course."

I glared at him. Leo swallowed hard and tried to sit up straight.

"You let her ramble," he said, sounding serious.

Damn straight I did.

Because I was watching her. Studying her. Elena Monroe was not a brave girl; no one was. But she was something worse: reckless.

The type of woman who hadn't learned when to be afraid. A woman who hadn't fled when she should have. That made her an issue. And I didn't tolerate issues.

I wrapped my fist around the glass of whiskey, picked it level to my mouth and sipped it slowly while tracing the agitated path down my throat. Gently ticking, I set it aside.

"Find out why she was here." Leo nodded.stating,"Already on it."

"Good." I snorted out my nose and went on, "And next time she talks to me like that."

"Remind her why that's not such a good idea." Once, Leo nodded. "Understood."

I released tension in my muscles by turning my neck. Elena Monroe invaded my space tonight.

She thinks she can get away. Slanting and smirking, I clutched the glass in a tighter hold.

We shall see.

________________________________________________

The next morning Leo swaggered into my office before the sun had even set on the day.

He just plopped the folder on my table with no word to me and then stood with his arms crossed and leaning back.

I just held the glass there as I put it down, eyes blinking open and shut with those shooting over him.

"You look like hell," I growled. Went right over Leo's head. "You're not going to like this," he said to me. I smiled slowly and lazily.

"When do I ever?" I snapped the folder open and glared through its contents. I wasn't the first folder she'd had on her.

Elena Monroe. Captain. Some outside field exposure. None of them matched last night's incursion. She didn't fit in. "She was tipped," I snarled. Leo nodded. "Yup, she was also told not to carry out the raid."

"Hmm." I rapped tapping fingers on the armrest of my chair. "So then how did she know?"

Leo expelled a rough breath, his hair standing up. "I have someone looking into that."

I held up the folder again, reading sections of her employment record, procedures for training, even a blur of an academy photo.

All of it said nothing to me. Nothing explained the truth that she'd been in my club last night.

"Tell me she caught nothing," I stated quietly. A moment of silence from Leo. I raised my eyes from the table. He shifted back, subtly. "We aren't sure."

The silence. The slow, crawling silence that only managed to cross into the danger zone. At least, until I whispered, very softly, "Not sure?"

"She came right when we were negotiating numbers with Dimitri's men." I stopped dead. Numbers. Shipment details. Names. Dates.

If she even heard a rumor of that, even a whisper that wasn't supposed to be overheard by a cop, I'd have to cover it up.

Leo looked at me. "She didn't react," he said, making some sort of point. "Didn't seem to care." "And she wasn't where she was supposed to be, Leo." He nodded, once.

"I know." That left two. Either she was stupid. Or a liar. I breathed slowly, rubbing my jaw.

"She's a General's daughter," Leo said. "A captain in a very trained unit. Perhaps she was curious, perhaps she was posturing."

I didn't speak. Because I didn't think so. Cops' children weren't stupid.

They understood how to play by the rules. They knew when to duck their heads. But she hadn't. She'd come into my club, glared directly into my eyes, and addressed me as if she weren't in a den of wolves.

Regular police wouldn't dare. Smart police wouldn't dare. I drummed my fingers on the desk. "Where is she now?" Leo checked his phone. " she arrived at the station about an hour ago."

"Good." I leaned back in my chair. Leo's eyebrow went up. "Good?"

I smiled. "She believes it's over." Leo stared at me for a moment, then shrugged. "And what are you going to do about it?"

I pushed the folder toward him.

“Watch her. Listen. I want to know where shegoes, who she talks to, what she eats forbreakfast. If she even breathes in the wrongdirection, I want to know.”

Leo nodded, picking up the file.

“And if she did hear something?” he asked.

I met his gaze, my expression unreadable.

“Then,” I said, voice low, even, dangerous,“we’ll make sure she forgets.”

Leo didn’t question it. He just turned and left.

I stayed where I was, fingers still drummingagainst my desk.

Because one thing was certain—Elena Monroewasn’t walking away from this.

I was going to find out exactly what she knew.

And if I didn’t like her answers?

Well… she wouldn’t like my methods.