Page 34 of Captivated

Slipping down a shadowed alley beside a rather popular Manhattan restaurant, Joe came up to the exit door at the back of the business. A light flickered over head in red, probably signaling that the door was locked.

A bit of time in New York had taught Joe a few things when it came to the Marcello brothers, and how they worked. The men might have seemed like they roamed freely without any kind of protection, but that was far from the truth. They always had at least two—but sometimes three—enforcers nearby.

Usually within shouting distance.

At least.

He suspected if the enforcers were anything like the ones doing business for the Chicago Outfit, then they kept their posts at businesses and such to make sure their bosses were protected. Something he knew well.

Putting his theory to the test, Joe knocked on the exit door with two knuckles. He waited five seconds, and then knocked again. Not a breath later, the door was pulled open, and Joe was greeted by a man just about the same size as him in width and height.

“What?” the man barked.

“Joe Rossi.”

The enforcer cocked a brow. “And?”

Apparently, not everyone knew he was working for the Marcellos in their famiglia. Joe wasn’t going to dwell on it; he had other shit to do.

“Lucian Marcello owns this place, right? Spends most of his working hours here in the private dining room.”

The enforcer’s face hardened. “What are you asking about—”

“Let him know Joe Rossi would like to speak to him.”

“You couldn’t come in through the front door, or what?”

Joe looked down at his attire. “Not dressed for a place like this, for one.”

“And for two?”

“You don’t know about me—that’s enough of an answer for you, man.”

“What?”

“Just go tell Lucian what I said.”

The enforcer didn’t look entirely fucking pleased at being ordered around by a stranger. He all but gave Joe a look that threatened violence if he breathed the wrong way. Still, the guy closed the door, and Joe was stuck waiting in the alleyway.

It was another two minutes before the door was opened again. And this time, it wasn’t the enforcer waiting. Lucian Marcello slipped out the back door, and gave the enforcer a nod over his shoulder before the door closed—a silent demand for the man to stay inside, and wait.

“You asked for me?” Lucian asked. “I figured with my daughter taken care of today, you might have … I don’t know, taken a day off.”

Joe shrugged. “I don’t take days off.”

“Interesting. What can I do for you, Joe? Oh, and thanks for being mindful about how you approached me.”

“Yeah, well … I have something coming up soon, and I’m going to need to take care of it. I assumed coming here would be a quick job for me, and then I could be on my way.”

“Us, too. Things came up.”

Joe nodded. “That’s fine, but regardless; I have other business, too.”

“Chicago, I imagine.”

“You would be correct.”

“And what’s going on in Chicago?” Lucian asked.