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“Did you have a good nap?”
“I did,” I admit. “Though I feel like I could probably sleep another eight hours. Ten if I’m lucky.” I laugh. “But when I was promised chicken Alfredo, I said to hell with sleep.”
“Aldo makes some fucking insane pasta,” he says, eyes widening with excitement before he heads toward the kitchen. “I’ll let him know you’re ready for your dinner.”
After watching him disappear into the kitchen, I take a seat at the long-ass table, all by myself. I look around, gazing down the multiple hallways in view, but no Hudson.
Minutes later, Rossi appears with a glass filled with ice and a can of Coke before setting them down in front of me, along with a napkin. “He said the food will be out in just a moment.”
When I inhale through my nose, my mouth waters. “It smells out-of-this-world good.”
As if my stomach can smell too, it makes an embarrassing rumble sound. But either Rossi doesn’t hear or he’s too polite of a guy to call me out on it. Whichever it is, I’m thankful for it.
“Where’s Hudson?” I ask, trying to keep my voice unbothered before taking a sip of soda and looking around. “I figured he’d be out here, fixing to get him some pasta too.”
“I think he left the complex for a few hours,” he answers.
A man like Hudson Hercules undoubtedly has women flocking to him everywhere he goes. He’s probably off on a booty call. Or maybe he even has a girlfriend. I mean, why wouldn’t he? Look at the dude.
Rossi continues, “But don’t worry; I fully intend on stuffing my face with pasta. Word on the street is, he made garlic bread too.”
As if on cue, Aldo walks into the room with two heaping plates of pasta and two pieces of garlic bread on the side. And when he sets mine down before me, I’m practically salivating at the mouth.
“Enjoy, Ms. James,” he says, grinning at his masterpiece before he hands Rossi one. “If you want another serving, just ring the little bell in the middle of the table.”
“Thank you, Aldo,” I gasp, wasting no time grabbing my fork and digging in.
The first bite is so good that I close my eyes to savor it. But when I open them, I can’t stop my brain from wandering back to the man who set this all up for me.
Hudson.
And I wonder where he is right now. Or I should say … who he’s with.
Enzo rarely hangs out at the crew complex. But unfortunately, tonight, he’s here. And that makes this entire place suck more.
A few days ago, I was eating chicken Alfredo, feeling semi-normal here. Tonight, I’m back to feeling like I’m in a prison. Simply because of his presence.
The door to his office is cracked just enough for me to be hidden from any cameras. I peek inside and see him seated at his desk as crew members gather around him for some sort of meeting. I shouldn’t be eavesdropping. I know it’s one of the dumbest things I could possibly do. But since being here, I’ve done nothing about why I came here in the first place. If I’m going down, I might as well go down swinging.
“Once we gain the rest of Beckett’s clients, we’ll no longer need him.” Enzo’s voice has a certain smugness as he speaks. “That dumb fucker really thinks our family gives a shit about his connections in the States? He’s a plastic surgeon. He’s nothing to us.”
Shaking, I take my phone from my pocket before pulling up the camera. I lift it enough so that Enzo’s face comes into view and hit the red icon on the screen. Maybe he’s not going to say anything significant. But if he does, at least I’ll have it on record.
“Very true, boss,” Val, one of his minions, says, smirking. “How many new accounts do you think we will gain from Benson’s practice alone?”
“Oh, hundreds, easily,” Enzo coos. “But that’ll quickly be thousands when people tell their rich junkie friends about the good shit we’re providing. A high so intense that they’ll never get enough.” He gradually leans back, an evil grin spreading across his face as he rubs his hands together. “We’re about to fuck a lot of people’s lives up, fellas. But we’re going to get richer doing it.”
His father walks around the back of the desk, planting his hand on his son’s shoulder proudly. “And this, my boy, is why you’re in charge now,” Marco boasts. “You haven’t let him in on the Vittoria Island deal, have you?”
To that, Enzo looks actually offended, and I tell myself to remember that name to research as soon as possible.
Vittoria Island. Where the hell is that? It’s just two very vague words, and yet, somehow, I know it’s a place that isn’t good. How could it be good when it has to do with this family?
“Fuck no. Do you take me for a stupid man?” Enzo snarls. “Beckett gets too excited. He has loose lips. And loose lips, well, they get you shot in the head.”
“Yes,” Marco says, agreeing. “Vittoria needs to stay under wraps. It’s far too big for the wrong person to find out about.”
“So, if you plan to cut ties with Beckett, what happens to the girl?” I hear Hudson say, though, from my angle, I can’t see him.
