Before Page 5

  Five

  THE LAST person Lev expected to find waiting outside his apartment building two days after the bar shooting was Andino Marcello. Yet, there the man waited while he leaned against a black Mercedes Benz as he worked on lighting up a thick cigar.

  In his tailored suit, with a watch on his wrist that glittered in the early morning light every time he moved his arm, the man looked entirely out of place. He certainly didn’t look like he belonged in the parking lot of a low-income apartment building, all things considered.

  Shit, his vehicle alone was probably worth more than the rest of the rust buckets combined in the parking lot of the building. Lev suspected it wasn’t very often that the man left his proverbial golden towers to come and visit the people of Harlem.

  Not that any of it seemed to bother Andino.

  “You usually this late to get around in the mornings?” Andino asked when Lev approached. He didn’t have a reason to suspect Andino had come there to find him, specifically, but at the same time ... who the fuck else would he be there for? “Not sure I like that very much.”

  “What difference does my schedule make to you?”

  Andino smirked, that cigar in the corner of his mouth bouncing dangerously with his next chuckle. “Oh, you’ve got one of those, huh?”

  Lev came to a stop just three feet in front of Andino’s vehicle. “One of what?”

  “An attitude. Curb it a bit, could you?”

  He wasn’t the type to get defensive, and he was pretty damn sure Andino wasn’t the kind of man who appreciated that shit either, but Lev had a line. He really hated it when people crossed it without even thinking about it.

  His entire life had been people talking around or down to him like he wasn’t half the human being they were. Either because he was a kid, at the time, didn’t have as much money or education as them, or whatever the case may be. He was too old and didn’t have the same patience for that shit as he used to, and he was just fine with letting Andino know that, too.

  “Is there something you want?” he asked Andino. “Because if all you want to do here is make comments about my mood, I have better places to be and things to do when I get there.”

  That had Andino pausing.

  Just long enough to laugh it off.

  “There was something about you that I liked,” the guy admitted. “That first time I walked into Nickie’s, I mean. Not sure what it was—maybe because you didn’t call me sir like every other stupid fuck does.”

  Lev cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the admittance. He wasn’t exactly sure it was a good thing to be liked by a man like Andino Marcello knowing what he did about the business of the mafia and whatnot. It seemed a bit dangerous to be liked by someone who spent his days making money by whatever means he could—from selling drugs to murder.

  And yet, here the two of them were.

  Talking.

  “Thought people called a Capo their Skip,” Lev returned.

  Andino grinned. “Some do. Semantics.”

  That was said with an easy wave of his hand, like it didn’t matter at all. Lev had a good feeling it did, in fact, matter to men like Andino what he was called by his subordinates. He wasn’t about to argue the point of it, however.

  What difference did it make?

  “And I liked the way you served my whiskey,” Andino added, lifting one blazer covered shoulder as if it was another flippant comment that didn’t matter much at all. “Three ice cubes, two fingers of liquor, and without any fucking small talk to annoy the hell out of me. So, every time I came around, I made sure Nickie knew it had better be you that served my drinks. No excuses.”

  “That’s ... it?”

  Andino arched a brow as he pulled the cigar from his mouth. Eyeing the burning red coal at the tip, he showed his teeth when he murmured, “Yeah, that was it. Sometimes, that is all it takes. You never gave a fuck about the politics of my business or even who I was, and I like that about you. See, whenever a Marcello walks into a place, everybody thinks they’re entitled to the reasons why. Why are we there—why does it even fucking matter? I just want someone who does their goddamn job, Lev. The way I tell them to without needing to be told a second time.”

  It wasn’t the first time Andino used his name. It still felt important that the man knew it in the first place.

  “Nothing more and nothing less,” the man added after a brief pause. “You get what I’m saying?”

  He was starting to think he might.

  Maybe.

  “Forgive me for asking why right now,” Lev said, choosing each word carefully because he might really like to make it out of the parking lot alive, “but why are you here?”

  Because really, wasn’t that the important thing?

  That cigar in Andino’s hand curled with smoke when the man dropped his arm to his side. Pushing away from the hood of the Benz, he peered off to the side where Lev noticed another man stood waiting, dressed in all black, about twenty feet away.

  “Another man of mine,” Andino informed, “he drives like shit, but he knows how to handle a gun and really, that’s what I need at the moment. I seem to be down a man considering the one that got his brains blown out at Nickie’s a couple of nights ago. Hard to find good, loyal guys in this business so it’s always a rough go for a while when you need to replace one.”

  “About that—what happened at Nickie’s, I mean.”

  Andino’s sharp gaze swung back to Lev, silencing him immediately. “More whys?”

  Well ...

  “Something happened, and it kind of felt like I might have had something to do with it without actually knowing about it,” Lev replied, keeping his tone as respectful as he could manage. “I might like to know what it was, Andino.”

  The other man nodded. “Fair point.”

  “Are you going to tell me?”

  “Well, no. I wasn’t. Business, you know?”

  “Not really, no.”

  Andino laughed under his breath and shook a finger at Lev. Like a loaded gun would be pointed at his face, he wondered if he overstepped a line. The grin curving Andino’s lips said all was fine.

  For now.

  “To simplify it down—my guest at the fights had a fighter that he wanted me to invest in. Nickie is a small fish in the underground fighting world, as I’m sure you’ve heard.”

  “I pay less attention to things I hear and more to what I see, actually.”

  A finger wagged at him again.

  “See, another reason to like you, Lev,” Andino replied without malice. “Nonetheless, I may or may not be dipping my toes into that side of things, and my potential business partner thought his fighter would be the one for me to drop a few million into over the next few months.”

  “The fighter—”

  “You knocked out in less than three minutes, yes,” Andino interjected with a chuckle. “And you don’t even fight for a living. You just ... have a way about you in the ring. I noticed. Anyway, my guest felt a bit put out by my dealings on the side that night with picking the fighter his man went up against. A small dispute, really.”

  Lev’s brow lifted high. “You call a man getting shot in the head a small dispute?”

  “Wasn’t my head, was it?”

  He suspected that, in a nutshell, was Andino’s outlook on a lot of things. Maybe it had to being a man in his position, Lev couldn’t be sure. And he had zero intention of asking.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Lev pointed out. “Why you’re here, I mean. Seems to me that the only reason a man like you would be around these parts of the city to talk to someone like me would be to make sure I don’t talk at all.”

  Dark eyes surveyed him. Lev stayed tall and firm.

  He lived for pressure.

  Always had.

  “You wouldn’t be wrong on any other day,” Andino returned, “but no, that’s not why I’m here. Are you in a rush? From what I understand, Nickie’s place is closed for the next couple of days so the police c
an finish their ... investigation. If that’s what one wants to call that travesty. They were paid off before the night was out—it’s all details now. That is where you work, yes? What exactly do you have to do today if work is out of the question?”

  Lev shrugged. “Whatever I want. Whether or not my business is important to your business doesn’t really matter, does it? I’m not on your time clock, Andino.”

  The man grinned. “But you could be.”

  Uh ...

  “What?”

  Andino resumed his previous position leaning against the Benz, and the cigar found its way back into his mouth. “See, I’m currently in need of a new enforcer.” He flicked a wrist at the word, muttering, “Titles aren’t important—a bodyguard.”

  It should have said something to Lev that Andino had bodyguards in the first place. Or enforcers, whatever the fuck he wanted to call the job. The guy was nearly as tall and large as Lev in size. He seriously doubted Andino was a coward or unable to handle himself. And yet, he still needed protection.

  A bit worrisome, honestly.

  “One I like,” Andino continued, clearly oblivious to Lev’s distraction, “that knows how to do as he’s told, makes an impression just by standing there, and is willing to learn. Loyalty is what counts the most with me at the end of the day. I’ve already built what one might call a rapport with you, meaning I like you well enough. You certainly make an impression with your size. And I’m sure you could learn the rest over time. Ten-k a month. You do what I say, you’re on my time from the moment you open your eyes until you close them at night, and you don’t give me any fucking attitude in between. How’s that sound?”

  Lev took a second.

  Blinked a few times.

  Probably looked like a fucking idiot.

  “You’re offering me a job?”

  Andino made a noise under his breath. “Undoubtedly better than whatever you’re doing now—in all aspects, I presume.”

  “You don’t know that. I’m not concerned about being arrested or murdered at my current job.”

  The man still leaning on the car gave him a look. “You sure about that? I mean, the other night and all ...”

  Well ...

  Fuck.

  He had a point.

  “I thought your business was for Italians only?” Lev asked. “In case you missed my last name, I’m—”

  “Russian on your father’s side. Ukrainian on your mother’s, from what I was able to find on her. My sympathies for your losses. It must have been hard to grow up without parents in a system like the one we have. People often wonder why some find themselves in hard situations. I tend to find the answers are very clear when someone looks hard enough. Don’t you?”

  Oh, good.

  Now he was looking into Lev.

  “Where you come from matters little to me,” Andino explained, sighing heavily. “We’re not talking about turning you into a made man. I just want to sign your paychecks, okay?”

  Was it okay?

  Lev didn’t know.

  “Are you actually giving me a choice with this job offer,” he asked, measuring each word, “or are you telling me what I’ll be doing, Andino?”

  That made the other man pause.

  Not for long, though.

  “You can’t force loyalty,” Andino eventually said. “I know that better than anyone.”

  That said a lot.

  Lev respected it, even.

  And still ...

  “I need time to think about it. No offense.”

  Lev figured he should tack that onto the end just because. The money Andino offered a month just for the position of a bodyguard was more than Lev made in a half of a year. He had the distinct feeling he’d earn every fucking penny of it, too.

  How could he not?

  It was the mafia.

  Andino nodded. “No offense taken. I’d think long and hard about it, too. Enjoy your day, Lev Arsov. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again. You’ll find me in Manhattan—can’t miss my restaurant—when you’re ready to give me your answer.”

  Pushing off the car, Andino whistled low under his breath, and the man across the parking lot came jogging over like a puppy ready to do tricks for his master. Lev said and did nothing until the black Benz backed out of the apartment parking lot. And even once the car was gone, he still didn’t move. He had a lot to think about now.

  There was a lot to consider.

  • • •

  “No fights or cops tonight?”

  Lev tensed at the familiar voice, but quickly smiled when he turned away from the liquor shelves to face the woman waiting on the other side of the bar. The last person he expected to see on his first night back working at Nickie’s was Gigi. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the woman tucked her tail and ran as far as she could away from this place after what happened.

  Yet, there she stood.

  Lips painted red.

  Dark blonde hair high in a messy pony.

  As sexy as ever.

  His gaze traveled down what he could see of her body, admiring the way the shiny black material of her mini skirt hugged her hips and the patch of toned stomach she showed off with her pink crop top. He popped the gum in his mouth. It didn’t hurt him a bit to look at her, and frankly, she didn’t seem bothered by his perusal, either. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see much beyond where the skirt fell mid-thigh because of the damn bar in his line of sight.

  Shame, that.

  “Hey, yourself. Now, I know you’ve got better places to be than here. Don’t try to tell me different.”

  She tossed a small purse to the bar top and took a seat on one of the stools. “Might have been in the neighborhood and noticed that the police tape had been taken off the front door. Or maybe I just wanted to come and say hi—you didn’t leave your number. Actually, you left before I even got up.”

  “Wasn’t that the point?”

  They had a night.

  Some fun.

  Lev found things like that were easier when a clean break was made at the end. Just because the two of them could make each other smile, he liked the way she looked, and they worked in bed together didn’t mean very much. They didn’t know one another. They weren’t even friends and most of the time, it was better that way.

  At the same time, he knew he wasn’t being one hundred percent honest with himself, either. Leaning a little over the bar, he gave her a smile when he said, “Truth is, I got up early, was going to order some breakfast and wake you up, convince you to jump in the shower with me, but then I got a call.”

  Her tongue peeked out to wet her lips.

  A dangerous thing because it only sent memories flooding through his mind in the best and worst way possible.

  “That so?”

  “My boss—about the shooting. The cops were hounding him about employees. Someone mentioned my name, so they were already rabid about finding me for a statement. Anyway, I thought maybe it was better if I didn’t linger anyway. You didn’t ask me to stay, and I didn’t want to assume I should.”

  “You’re right, I didn’t.” Gigi grinned. “And maybe I’m lying.”

  That had his attention.

  Lev stepped closer to the bar, tossing the rag over his shoulder. “About what?”

  She waved a finger in between them, replying simply, “I was in the neighborhood—I did see the tape was gone. But maybe I purposely came this way to check and decided to come in and see where things went from there.”

  Oh, really?

  “What things?” he asked, a grin starting to form.

  “Things,” she teased, offering nothing else.

  Her teasing was what found them in bed together in the first damn place, whether she realized it or not. Had the woman not gotten enough their first night? He didn’t usually go back for seconds, but shit ... Gigi was exactly the kind of woman he wouldn’t mind breaking his usual rules for. It wasn’t like he could afford anything more than fun with her, but it didn’t hurt anybody
if that’s all they were both looking for.

  Right?

  She hadn’t answered him yet.

  Lev didn’t miss it.

  Placing both hands to the bar, he leaned across the top and closed what distance was between them. The scent of his mint gum filled the inch of air between them and while her head was still tipped down, he watched those full, round lips of hers form a smile that showed off the space between her two front teeth. All at once, she glanced up, and those green eyes of her—the same color of fresh, new grass in the spring—met his.

  “Guess what?” she asked.

  He arched a brow. “What?”

  “My face is going to be in magazines.”

  That had him blinking.

  But only for a second.

  “It should be—it’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.”

  It wasn’t a lie.

  Gigi laughed. “That’s what you have to say?”

  Lev shrugged. “It’s all that should be said.”

  Peering to the side, Gigi took in the quiet bar and the obvious change in scenery since her last time there a few days prior. Andino hadn’t been wrong. The cops quickly finished their investigation of the shooting, gave Nickie the green light to open for business again, and that was that. They didn’t talk about what happened. The employees knew better.

  Including Lev.

  “Doesn’t even look like anything happened,” Gigi whispered.

  “That’s the point.”

  She drew in a quick breath that stuttered on the inhale. Lev knew that feeling all too well—how the violence of the world could be so strange. How it could set one person off-balance, yet it wasn’t even a blip on someone else’s radar. He’d never been fully in that world, but his connections and work put him in a place where he toed the line and saw more than he wanted to.

  One foot in, and one out.

  Nothing was ever simple.

  “So, magazines, huh?” he asked, wanting to make her smile again.

  She did.

  It was fucking brilliant.

  “I signed a contract today,” she told him, her eyes glittering with joy and pride.

  Fuck, he could practically feel it radiating off her. One part of him wanted to ask all the questions drifting through his mind. What kind of contract? What magazine? Was that what she did for a living—modeling?