Page 50 of Fallen Rook

“Fuck!”

I flipped my phone, screen-down on my desk, jerking back at the intrusion.

“My, my, am I interrupting something?” Sully flashed an abrasive smirk. “I never thought I’d see the day Agent Rothwell is, dare I say, flustered?”

“Sorry to disappoint, but you’re still not seeing it.” I ran a confident hand over my tie, gesturing to the seat in front of me.

He plopped to his designated recliner, his cat-who-ate-the-canary leer intact. Took a slow sip from his coffee. Relished my attention.

“Spill it,” I said.

“You’re about to owe me a whole lotta beers, Rothwell.”

The last thing the bastard needed was more alcohol. As it was, I was doing both our jobs.

“Yeah? And why’s that?”

“I found us an informant.”

“An informant?” I sat back.

“You heard it right: a turncoat willing to work with us to bring the Camorra down. Has deep access into the operation, knows where the bodies are. Fell into my lap late last night, seemingly out of nowhere. He was passing through town and reached out for a meeting.”

“And you decided to take it alone?” I curved a skeptical eyebrow.

“It was past midnight. You didn’t answer my calls, and he’s of interest to the bureau. Couldn’t put that lead to waste.”

He hadn’t been able to reach me because I was busy sucking the Camorra enforcer’s cock, but that wasn’t necessarily a fact I was eager to divulge. This new information would leave any FBI agent begging for more. Camorrista soldiers were unshakably loyal. This, in part, made catching the Ferrantes nearly impossible.

“I’ll be their handler. What do they want?” I asked.

“Immunity.”

“From what?”

Sully shrugged. “Anything. Everything. They’re in a position of power.”

This was only part of the story, I knew. I wasn’t so close to imprisoning the Ferrantes to warrant such a gift. “What’s their other motive?” I demanded.

“He hates the Ferrantes.”

Maybe, but for a mafioso to be so far gone as to become a snitch, it had to be personal.

“Which brother?” I asked.

“All of them. But he seems to have a special disdain for the pretty one, who likes to make origami out of his victims.”

Enzo.

Pushing the saliva down my throat with a swallow, I forced myself not to have a reaction. To shove away the memory of his mouth on mine, the taste of his tongue, his smile against my skin.

Straightening in my seat, I tapped my pen on a manila folder.

“I’ll speak to the assistant U.S. attorney after I run a background check. Make sure he doesn’t flame out,” I warned.

“SDNY is about to close for the holidays, so you better hurry up.”

“I’m not on your timeline, Sully. I’ll do it after I do my due diligence.”