Page 8 of Captivated

“I don’t hire out my services,” he said quietly. “I work for the Chicago Outfit only.”

“You will in this circumstance,” his father said quietly.

Joe’s jaw flexed at that comment. “No offense—”

“Joe.”

“Don’t give me that rhetoric again, I mean this to be fucking offensive.”

Damian sighed. “Then don’t color it up with useless nonsense. Just say it.”

Joe passed a look at the quiet, waiting men. “Maybe I shouldn’t right now.”

“What, son? Just say it, Jesus.”

Fine.

“I’m not going to work for them just because the Outfit is still trying to get on friendlier terms with the Marcello family. Beyond that, look at these names, Dad.” Joe dropped the file into his father’s lap, and quickly retook his place in the corner before he added, “Very high fucking profile names. A politician? Chief of Police? That’s asking for trouble, and it’s not the kind of shit I want to be stepping in. It looks like someone else’s shit, to be honest, and they’re probably not even going to give me the decency of telling me what kind of shit before I step in it.”

“On that, you’re correct,” Dante said, finally stepping into the conversation. “We’re not going to tell you why we want these men dead. We will tell you why we want you to be the one who does it.”

Christ.

Joe’s molars were going to crack from the way he was clenching his jaw so goddamn tight. “Try me, but don’t assume it will make any difference to what I already said.”

Gio chuckled from the couch. “Damn, Damian, I like him. He’s … got balls.”

Damian scowled. “Usually, he’s quieter than this.”

Dante went on speaking to Joe as though the other men weren’t conversing at all. “These men need to go for reasons we’re not willing to disclose. However, that shouldn’t be important to whether or not you’re able and willing to do the job, not to mention, how much we’re going to pay you to do it. What is important is that you come from Chicago, not New York. You, Joseph, have never even been in the presence of our family properly. Not been pictured with any of our made men, or our women. Nothing. Invisible, essentially, which is exactly what we need. We cannot afford for attention to be put on our family for these hits, although we assume we’ll get some spotlight anyway just because. Nonetheless, with nothing to find by way of connections, we’ll all make it out unscathed.”

Joe was barely listening because he was now staring at his father. “Give me one reason why I should agree to take on this job when you know I have only worked for Chicago.”

“I can give you two, actually.”

“Try me.”

“The thing we talked about outside, for one. Might want to be here a while. It could help with that, you know.”

Ah, yeah.

Liliana.

He heard his father’s unspoken words. Although frankly, working for her family like this might put a serious fucking dent in those plans. Not to mention who her goddamn father was. Shit could never be simple for Joe.

“And for two?” Joe asked.

“Because I am asking you to take it, Joe,” Damian said, “and not for any reason you might assume, but because sometimes, we lend a hand when it is desperately needed. There was a time once when you started taking on marks because you wanted to remove those who did not deserve to breathe the same air we did—maybe it’s time to get back to that place for a while.”

His rosary felt heavy around his throat.

Like a noose, almost.

“Asking me, or telling me?”

“Asking,” his father murmured.

“What was it they called you, Damian?” Lucian asked, quietly jumping into the conversation again. “Back when you did all the dirty work for the Outfit, I mean.”