Caught:A Dark Mafia Romance

By: Piper Stone

This was my attempt at being an upstanding citizen, much to my father’s chagrin. Having a legit portion of the Calduchi enterprise looked good on paper, but slowly over time, reality had set in. I was far too much like my father, accepting the old ways—enforcement. My head ached from the thought, let alone from living what I considered a lie. Hell. I wasn’t entirely certain who I was any longer. One thing was for certain. I’d become a dangerous man even if only using a pen.

At least the majority of the time.

I had another soiree to attend tonight and at minimum I needed to make an appearance. The tone would be established the moment I set foot in the ballroom. There would be hell to pay. I had no choice at this point. Time was of the essence, final deals required. If not, Bishop would lose standing in the ruthless world of real estate takeovers. A female companion was required in order to keep any concept of peace. I closed and rubbed my eyes, furious that I’d accepted the invitation. A damn real estate party for the bigwigs in the developer industry.

And I was one of them.

Granted, I had business to conduct, two companies that needed reinforcement in the pressure to sell. Neither had budged even though fairly rough tactics had been used in order to influence their decision. Nope. I wasn’t proud, but I didn’t have enough muscle behind me to go up against my father. Plus, I had a quota to fill and their pristine ethics meant absolutely zero to me. By the end of the night, they would sign on the dotted line or the illustrious party would turn into a bloodbath. What few soldiers that had been directed to follow my lead were chomping at the bit.

A light rapping on the closed door drew my attention and not in a good way. I’d given strict instructions not to be bothered. “Yes?” Watching as the door opened little more than a crack reminded me that I was a business owner with employees who needed occasional direction. “Come in, Molly.”

She was freckle-faced and perky on normal days, her strawberry blonde hair and dancing hazel eyes always giving me a smile. Today, she seemed pensive, as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Or that she was terrified.

“What do you need?” I folded my hands across my chest, trying to shove aside my usual anger at the interruption. The kid didn’t deserve my wrath.

“I’m so so-sorry to bother you, Mr. Bishop, I mean, sir. We have, I mean you have a visitor.” Molly was wide-eyed, her lower lip quivering.

Only one man caused this kind of reaction: my father, the bloodthirsty bastard that he was. “Let me guess.”

“Mr. Calduchi didn’t understand that you were busy.”

“You mean he didn’t give a shit.” The smile on my face had nothing to do with being happy to see the man who’d spawned me.

Her face flushed, and she fidgeted with her hair, wrapping her delicate fingers around her long strands. “Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir. I mean...”

“Just send him in, Molly. After this meeting, I’ll be leaving for the day. You can as well.” The poor girl had no real understanding of who she worked for. Every time her doe eyes looked in my direction, I felt guilty.

“Yes, sir.” She nodded out of respect, an expression of relief crowding out the near panic. “I’ll show him in.”

“No need.” The gruff voice was right behind her, the man shoving his way past my assistant as if she was nothing more than a bother. However, he did lift his sunglasses, gawking at her ass, a sensual humming noise slipping past his pursed lips. He always had a thing for beautiful women. Another attribute we shared.

I didn’t bother getting out of my chair, but I did glare at him, cognizant that his appearance inside the building meant he was more than displeased. That usually predestined that people would die. “Montego. Who do I have to thank for this amazing pleasure?”

“Cut the crap, Jagger. You know exactly why I’m here.” He slammed the door behind Molly, a gesture that actually forced the man to show some emotion. He was usually the cool cat, never getting his hands dirty.

He had enough goons to take care of his day-to-day business. I studied my father, resisting his line of bullshit.

“Where are we on the Markum and Santori acquisitions?” he demanded.

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