Page 25 of Fallen Rook

He blocked me.

He.

Blocked.

Me.

I sat back in my office chair, threading my fingers into my hair and tugging until my scalp burned.

At least he’d found his long-lost sense of self-preservation.

Only I didn’t actually care about his need to save himself. I needed to nail his ass and put him in prison. It frustrated me that I’d made a mistake. It was unlike me as an agent.

I always planned first and acted later.

Up until the night in the alleyway, I’d never miscalculated one step in my entire career.

I regretted the moment I made a comment about his scars. It wasn’t my place. But something kicked me into action. The same primal protectiveness that had sat dormant for eight years and woken up to the sight of Cash trying to ruin Enzo’s life because of his sexuality.

Maybe it was the fact that I felt anything at all. I planned every interaction in my life so cautiously, I rarely left room for surprises. Enzo hurting himself had surprised me.

He was the careless, sunshine one. He wasn’t supposed to be well rounded, deep, and haunted.

With any luck, he’d get over his freak-out and reconsider my proposition. Getting this man into my bed was the fastest, most pleasurable way to milk information out of him. Agents recruiting informants did a lot worse to get to their objective.

I was going to fuck the truth out of Enzo one way or the other. And he’d let me, because I was his safest bet. Anyone else would be too much of a risk. But the thing about us? We both had too much to lose.

Then I was going to collect all the information he’d give me and use it against him.

My phone beeped with a message. I looked down, expecting to see Enzo’s name, but it was just the airline company, notifying me about the option to check in early.

ALPHA AIRLINES: It is almost time for your check-in!

I had booked a last-minute trip for work. Nothing that’d keep me longer than twenty-four hours from my home turf, though.

I stepped in front of the pinboard in my office. The one with the entire Ferrante family pictures laid out in hierarchical order. I yanked Vello’s picture from the top of the pyramid, wrinkled the Polaroid photograph, and tossed it into the trash. I pinned Luca’s photo instead. The new don. The king of the underworld.

Then I grabbed one of my darts and sent it straight into Enzo’s pretty face.

Three days.

I would give him three days to cool off before I started hunting my new favorite prey.

Chapter Ten

Enzo

“Stop fidgeting. You’re making my eyes twitch.”

Luca raised his hand and seized the pocket knife I’d flung to the ceiling midair, catching it by the blade and tossing it across the room. It nailed into the wallpaper, about an inch deep. Asshole’s throw was mean, just like everything else about him.

His gaze settled on my wrists. “You gotta stop cutting, man. It looks bad.”

I can’t help it. It’s an autoimmune disease purging all the black goo in my soul onto the surface.

“I need a drink,” I mumbled, wandering toward the bar cart in my late father’s office.

My brothers sat at the chess table for a game. The pieces were gold-plated and handcrafted to perfection. The day my father died, as soon as Achilles had arrived back in New York from Naples, he and Luca struck a deal. Luca would assume the don’s position with our blessing. However, Achilles had the opportunity to win it in a game of chess.