Nick
Even the sound of her voice stirred something deep inside of me. She had hesitated briefly, but then agreed to leave the restaurant with me. Her company was great, the sex was even better. I had the most mind-blowing orgasm I've ever had in my life. Hell, I had the five most mind-blowing orgasms of my life. I had her on the couch, the floor, against the window of our fiftieth floor suite, in the shower, in the bed. The woman did something to me I'd never quite experienced before, and before the night I was over, I was even rethinking my one and done policy.
She was so incredible that I had pegged her as a Stage Five Clinger. That was the worst of the worst. The ones thinking about marriage, complete with tears and hysterics when I rushed them out of the room the next day. My brother Micah's words echoed in my head. When he saw her he said, No one looks that good and isn't bat-shit crazy. Add that to the out of this world sex, and this girl had to be certifiable.
I was no stranger to one-night stands. I definitely have had my fair share over the last several years, and each time it went relatively the same. I'd meet a girl, charm her with my wit and good looks, and convince her to leave whatever establishment we were at for something quieter. I'd get a hotel room—never my own place—and take her back there, making my intention to sleep with her crystal clear. Over and over again, I'd tell her this was a one-time thing, that we'd never see each other again after that night. But somehow that message would get lost in translation. Most of the time, I'd try to sneak out before they woke up, but if I couldn't, it was always a fight. I'd wake up and they would be trying to get my phone number and planning when they could see me again, hearing wedding bells and wanting to meet my family. The point of a one-night stand was completely lost on these girls.
It wasn't like I thought I was god's gift to women or that I put some kind of spell on them, making them fall in love with me. Most women just couldn't grasp the idea of a one-night stand. They liked it in theory, but when it came right down to it, they couldn't pull the trigger. They couldn't keep emotion out of it.
In fact, I had decided to take a break from women in general. That is, until "Jules" stumbled into my restaurant looking like an absolute smokeshow. She lied about her name, but that only made her all the more mysterious and alluring to me. With chestnut hair and big bedroom eyes that you only heard about in stories, and a dress that clung to her leaving just enough to the imagination, she had driven me completely wild. She was the type of girl every guy wanted—the type every guy wanted but no one could truly have. A rare beauty.
I watched her all night, memorizing the way her lips moved as she spoke and the light shade of crimson her cheeks turned after she had a few drinks in her. There was a slight tilt of her head when she laughed, and no matter how boring the conversation was, she always looked interested. She was a good actress.
Micah thought I was insane when I said I was taking her home with me, especially considering at the time she had just declined my drink and gone to sit down with another man. I waited patiently, watching her make small talk with that prick. For a while, I almost thought she was interested in him, but when she excused herself, I made my move. And damn, was it fucking worth it.
That's why I was completely baffled when I woke up the next morning and she was gone. Completely vanished. The sheets of the bed next to me were so cold that she had to have been gone for hours. Left without a single word, only a lipstick note on the mirror saying what a good time she'd had. No name, no number to reach her at. No good-bye kiss. Nothing. And for the first time in my life, I found myself wishing a girl had stayed.
It wasn't even just the sex I was craving again. I wanted to talk to her. She had proved to be as brilliant and witty as she was beautiful. In between rounds, we compared scars from past relationships, bonded over the pressure we felt from our families to be something we weren't, laughed about our favorite TV shows, and told each other about our wildest fantasies. She challenged me and called me out, not letting me get away with my usual tricks just to try to win me over. Her fiery personality caught my attention immediately, and I've never been one to like a girl for her personality. The fact that she had no idea who I was made it all the sweeter.
I don't know why this bothered me so much. Normally, I would have been ecstatic to wake up to find myself alone, not having to deal with the morning-after mess. Something was different about this girl, though. I wanted to see her again, but she hadn't even left me that option. This was what we had agreed on, but somewhere along the line, I had been the one to develop feelings. What the fuck was happening to me?
We had had fun together, hadn't we? Had I missed something? Had she not thoroughly enjoyed every second right along with me? Of course she had. Her body responded to me like she had known me all her life, begging for more. It had to be something else.
Maybe she had a boyfriend. That prick from the restaurant. No, she wouldn't have been so quick to leave him if they were together. He couldn't be her boyfriend.
Maybe I was feeling this way because she had been the one to leave. She'd snuck out, leaving me alone in a hotel room after the incredible night we had shared. I had never experienced this shit before, and maybe that was why I couldn't get her out of my head.
Fuck my rules. I needed to see her again. I couldn't let her get away with that shit. I knew this was going against everything I had ever stood for, but I was going to find her. I was going to find her and fuck her out of my system. Surely that would take care of it.
I just had to figure out how I was going to go about that when all I had left of the girl were a few memories and a fake name. My guys were good, but nobody was that good. How was I possibly going to manage this?
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, flashing Micah's face as the caller ID.
"Hello?" I answered, still groggy and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.
"All right, shithead. Where are you?" Micah growled on the other end of the line.
"Good morning to you too."
"Did you forget what day it is? We were supposed to meet Dad at the warehouse an hour ago." He was clearly pissed off.
Damn it. In my confusion this morning, I had totally forgotten that we were meeting. My father was going to blow a gasket. The day I would take over for him as Don was fast approaching, and he was on me constantly about being more responsible. This probably wasn't what he had in mind.
"I'll take it by your silence that you forgot. You're lucky I covered for your ass. And that Frankie totaled his car last night so Dad had bigger fish to fry." He chuckled nonchalantly.
"What?" I shot up in bed. "Why didn't anyone call me? Is he okay?" I barked, shoving a hand through my dark-brown hair. Frankie was our little brother and a total troublemaker. This accident was just the latest in his long stream of recent screwups.
"He's fine," Micah assured me. "Might not be when Dad gets through with him, though." He chuckled. "Anyway, the meeting got pushed back, you want to grab some breakfast before?"
Most of what Micah was saying got lost when I stumbled into the living room of the suite and found her lacy panties still draped over the back of the couch. I bit my lip and groaned, reliving the moment I had slid them off of her last night, tugging gently down each toned leg, inch by inch. The memory was only second to the image I had in my mind of her walking out of here without them on. Damn, that did things to me I was ashamed to admit, and I was immediately transported back to the night before.
Last night
A few minutes after I heard the door shut, Jules sauntered back into the room holding two ice-cream sundaes. Mine with nuts, hers without. The hotel robe was held around her by the slip of a belt, and one wrong move would make the whole thing fall open. I was secretly hoping it would so I could catch another glimpse of her body. She handed me my ice cream and then climbed back into the bed next to me.
"The room service guy called me Mrs. Sinatra when I answered the door." She arched her eyebrows at me playfully. "You even gave the hotel a fake name?"
I couldn't help but chuckle. "What? I don't look like I have a good singing voice to you?"
"You look alive," she teased. "Frank Sinatra died years ago. Although you've got that whole Italian thing going for you. Dark hair, great bone structure, and I bet you wear the hell out of a fedora." She paused, doubting herself briefly. "You're not actually related to him are you?"
I shook my head, putting my arm around her as we both ate our ice cream. We'd certainly worked up an appetite. "I'm flattered, but no relation whatsoever. I'm a fan, and that was the first name I thought of when I made the reservation. You can never be too careful. No strings, remember?"
"For someone who says they've rarely done this, you certainly have a system," she quipped, pursing those gorgeous lips at me.
"That's what a few bad apples will do to you," I countered. "I've been on a little bit of a dating hiatus lately because so many girls have trouble understanding the no-strings thing."
"But you broke your streak tonight."
"I did." I nodded. "Something about you told me you'd be worth it, and I certainly haven't been wrong so far."
"Well, you're in luck." She licked some whipped cream off of her bottom lip. "I broke a little hiatus of my own tonight too."
"Oh yeah?" A woman like her probably had men eating out of the palm of her hand. She was the best kind of beautiful, not having any idea how incredible she really was.
"I like the one and done policy. Relationships aren't exactly my forte, although I'm supposed to be working on that."
"According to who?"
"Just a lot of pressure to be who my family wants me to be." Her eyes clouded over the second she said it, and I could see how heavily it weighed on her.
I knew a thing or two about family pressure myself. "I can understand that. It seems like everyone always has an idea of who you're supposed to be without even considering what you want."
"That's why I like this little world you've created up here. Even though all of that pressure will be there in the morning, tonight we're free to be whoever we want to be and do whatever we want."
"You're absolutely right." I kissed the top of her head. "And what is it you want to do next?"
"I want to finish my ice cream, and then I want to have sex with you in that shower." She blushed and pointed to the bathroom. "It's got four showerheads."
"Then we definitely have to try it." I laughed, then wiped a little bit of whipped cream off of her lip. I wasn't sure where the hell these thoughts were coming from, but all I could focus on was making her happy. We'd both just said we didn't do well in relationships, but this was something I could get used to. Her in my arms. In my bed. Maybe for longer than just one night.
Present Day
"Nick, did you hear me? Hello? Breakfast?" Micah yelled on the other end of the phone.
Breakfast sounded great. If I had some food in my stomach, I might be able to think clearer. "Yeah, why don't you pick me up in twenty minutes?" I glanced at my watch, making sure that would leave enough time to get back to my penthouse.
"I'm already outside your building. Open up."
"I'm not exactly at home." I sighed, knowing the shitstorm that was about to come. Micah was going to want to know all the details of my night when he found out I'd taken a girl back to the hotel and I didn't want to get into it right now. I was still licking my wounds from her untimely departure this morning.
"What? Where the hell are you?"
"I stayed at a hotel last night." I tried to slip my clothes on as quickly as possible so I could get out of here, but Micah was relentless, and I knew he wasn't going to let up anytime soon.
"You dirty dog." I could almost see him smirking on the other end of the line. "You took that girl back with you, didn't you? The spicy brunet from the bar?"
"Look, I'm fifteen minutes away from home. Can we talk about this at breakfast?"
"You did! Damn, I gotta admit I had my doubts. Was she as crazy as we thought?"
I chuckled to myself at the irony of the situation. She was crazy all right, just not in the respect we thought. "Even crazier."
"Beautiful. I can't wait to hear all about it. Just meet me at Snooze in a half hour," Micah conceded.
"Fine. See you then." I clicked the phone off and slid it into my pocket. I gave the room a once-over, making sure that I wasn't leaving anything behind—except for my dignity, that was.
I snatched my phone out of my pocket and quickly dialed my best friend, Zane. He was my right-hand man, but his legitimate job was private investigating. The guy was a whiz with computers and could track down nearly anyone with record speed. That certainly came in handy in the crime world, and now apparently, my personal life.
"Nick. What's up, man?" Zane greeted me when he picked up.
"Doing good, buddy." I waved at the receptionist on the way out of the hotel, signaling I was checking out. This wasn't the first time I had brought a girl back to this hotel, and she already knew the drill. I gave fake names every time but she recognized me and gave me a condescending look each time, just charging my card. "Hey, I need a favor. I need everything you can find out about a girl from the restaurant last night."
"Is this for business or pleasure?" he teased.
"I'm not sure yet." I laughed to myself. "Thing is, I don't know much about her."
"No problem. All I need is a name," he said.
I sighed, rubbing my temples. My silence gave me away.
"Nick, tell me you at least know her damn name." Zane's voice was a mixture of amusement and irritation. I knew what I was asking him to do was nearly impossible.
"She said her name was Juliette, but I don't believe that. I met her at the restaurant, so maybe try there, see if there are any credit card receipts or anything on surveillance," I offered, trying to give him something to go off of.
"I don't need you to tell me how to do my job, bro. What does she look like?"
"Brunet, dark-chocolate eyes. Five six, five seven, definitely Italian. Probably midtwenties."
"You realize you just described about thirty percent of women in New York. This could take weeks."
"I don't care how long it takes."
"Easy, killer, I didn't say I couldn't do it. I'll get on it and let you know as soon as I find anything."
"Thanks," I snapped, before hanging up.
I was already amped up, so I tried to put my mystery girl out of my mind for the time being, but that was easier said than done. My mind kept going over everything that happened, trying to figure out what had gone wrong.
It was about a fifteen minute walk from the hotel to my building, which would leave me a few minutes to change clothes before catching up with Micah. If I was going to be seeing my dad, I at least needed to look presentable. I didn't want to give him another reason to think I wasn't capable of running the business when he retired.
He had been on this kick for years. He was nowhere close to retiring but had started grooming me to make sure I would be ready when he was. As the eldest of his three sons, I was next in line to take over the Caponelli fortune and run one of the largest crime families in the United States. For most people, it might sound intimidating, but I lived for this shit. I had grown up around it and there was never any doubt one day I would take over for my dad as the boss, and shape this organization into my own.
We were mostly in the weapons trade and counterfeiting. Thousands of guns, rounds of ammo, and fake bills came in for distribution every week through New York, and most of it came through our hands. My dad had dabbled in the drug trade at one point, but there were too many loose ends in that for us to get too involved. That was Moretti territory, and generally we stayed away from all things Moretti. We weren't exactly rivals, but we weren't all that friendly either. My parents lived in Harrison and the Morettis lived in Oyster Bay, right on the other side of the Long Island Sound. We'd been battling for control of the ports for as long as I could remember. The Morettis' investment in illegal drugs and substances brought more police attention to the area than we wanted, and it was always a danger to shipments we brought in through that avenue. Years ago, we'd tried pulling our forces together, but that had ended in complete disaster, and the partnership was over before it even had a chance to begin. We were cordial with the Moretti family for business purposes now, but we only dealt with them when we absolutely had to.
When I got to Snooze, my brother was already sitting in our regular booth in the back. We met here at least once a week, sometimes more. Their breakfast burritos were out of this world, and that was exactly what this hangover needed. I made my way to him and sat down on the bench across from him.
"You look like hell," Micah asserted, sliding his coffee cup over to me. "You need this more than I do. Dad decided to meet us here instead of the warehouse."
"Fantastic." I rolled my eyes. "That's exactly what I need after the morning that I've had."
"Was she that bad?" Micah smirked, clearly on the edge of his seat for this story. I had a feeling it was going to be slightly less climatic than he was looking for.
"No, actually she wasn't that bad. She was incredible. The best sex I ever had. Absolutely mind-blowing." I gave him a mischievous grin, knowing full well he wanted more details, but I wasn't going to give them to him. The waitress slid two plates in front of us with our regular orders. They knew us well around here. Micah shot the new blond waitress a wink and I made a mental note to harass him about that later.
"Really?" Micah asked. It wasn't often I bragged about my one-night stands. I had yet to find a girl who really did it for me. Sure, they could get me off, but no one had made me feel as good as Jules had last night. I felt so ridiculous even calling her that. I needed to put a name to that paralyzingly gorgeous face. A real name.
I nodded, taking a gulp of coffee. The liquid burned my throat but I needed something to take the edge off. "And I woke up this morning and she was gone. Slipped out without a fucking word."
"Then I'm not seeing what the problem is. You hate the morning after. Why aren't you jumping for joy about this? She was an awesome shag and completely detached. In fact, are you sure you didn't dream this? It seems too good to be true." Micah smiled slyly.
"The problem is, I've never been ghosted before. No one has ever walked out on me like that," I grumbled, shoving down some of my breakfast.
"Or the problem is you actually want to see this girl again." Micah arched an eyebrow at me. It irked me how observant he was sometimes. It was hopeless to try to hide anything from my brother.
"Can we just drop this please?" This was only making me more irritated. Hopefully, Zane would have something for me soon.
"Drop what?" My father's voice came over my shoulder. He walked around my side of the booth and slid in next to Micah. Gio Caponelli was an intimidating man. He stood tall at six foot six, and had a piercing glare that could make a person crumble on sight. He was fearsome and evoked an uneasiness in people who weren't familiar with him. Most people chose to just stay out of his way entirely. He was a good father, but he always demanded the most out of us, and only now that I was an adult could I understand why. This life wasn't for everyone, and he was doing his best to prepare the three of us to continue his legacy.
"Nothing," I snapped, certainly not wanting to explain the entire story to my father. He would have all kinds of unsolicited opinions I wasn't sure I could stomach this morning. They'd probably be along the lines of me cleaning up my act and settling down with someone. That was one of his conditions for me taking over, and something I wanted nothing to do with.
"Don't mind him, Dad." Micah laughed. "He's a little moody this morning."
"I'm not moody. I'm dealing with a small crisis and I would appreciate a little sympathy." I narrowed my eyes at him.
"What kind of crisis?" my dad asked, eyeing me suspiciously. I knew he was thinking this had something to do with the business.
"Oh please. You not being able to get in touch with your booty call is not a crisis." Micah rolled his eyes and I kicked him under the table. What the fuck? I thought I made it clear I didn't want to talk about this anymore? Especially in front of our father.
"Booty call?" My dad sighed heavily. "Don't you think it's time you grow up a little?" And there it was.
I rubbed my chin harshly, careful about my response. I didn't want to piss my dad off but I didn't really like what he was insinuating. My sex life was none of his business, and I certainly didn't need to curtail it in order to run this group. I was more than capable, and his assumptions were way off base.
"It's not a big deal. We have a lot going on at the warehouse this week that I'm stressed out about. That's all." We ran a legitimate shipping company that masked most of our illegal activity. By day we imported and exported all kinds of goods out of South America, and by night, we brought in heavy ammo and artillery under the disguise of livestock shipments. Port authorities used scent dogs, and the animals always threw them off the scent of the illegal shit. It was the perfect setup. Until I took over for my father, I was in charge of the day-to-day operations of the shipping business. I knew the purpose of it, but all it really was a headache to me.
My dad contemplated my words before nodding and filling his cup with coffee. At least that was sufficient enough for now. "Right. That's what I wanted to speak to you both about anyway."
"What's going on?" Micah asked. He was mostly in charge of shipments coming in at the dock and then transporting them to the warehouse. Once at the warehouse, they were sorted and sent out to our clients. I handled the redistribution.
"I think we have a rat."
"What?" Micah and I both hissed at the same time. A traitor? There was no way. Our men were loyal almost to a fault, and we didn't bring anyone new on without serious vetting. My dad had always been sure to make an example out of anyone who crossed us so no one would ever risk it. We had good relationships with all of our men and treated them well. Had something slipped through the cracks?
"I don't know for sure and I don't know where. But somewhere between the docks and when the shipments are getting back to the warehouse, we're coming up short. Just a little at a time. I have a feeling it might be a supplier, but I want to be sure before we do anything."
"How? I've been checking them in myself," Micah said.
"Somewhere along the line before redistribution. We need to keep a close eye on things these next few weeks and see where the problem is. I don't want to draw any attention to it right now, just see how everything shakes out and then we'll go from there." My dad's expression was serious. He was genuinely concerned about this, which was nerve-racking. He didn't get disturbed very often, so when he did, it was a big deal.
"And in the meantime?" I asked. "How will we make up the loose ends? We can't send our shipments out short."
"In the meantime, I've asked the Morettis for additional support." He sighed heavily. "They deal with a few mutual suppliers, and Liam said they're having some of the same issues."
"You're working with the Morettis?" This was absolutely absurd. Signing a deal with them was like signing a deal with the devil.
"We're working with the Morettis," he corrected me. "It's only temporary, and we're all on the same side here."
"I don't like this one fucking bit." Micah groaned.
"You don't have to like it, Micah. We just need to figure out what's going on and go from there. We'll both be monitoring our own groups and then meet in a few weeks and see what we can figure out." Dad checked his watch. "I've got to run. You two behave yourselves."
He slugged back the rest of his coffee and slammed the cup back on the table.
"And you," he said pointing at me. "No more booty calls. Find yourself a nice woman that your mother will approve of."
I chuckled and shook my head.
"Easier said than done." Micah laughed, taking my side for the first time in this whole conversation.
Dad waved and headed out the front door, as if he hadn't just dropped a bomb on us. Working with the Morettis was dangerous.
This was going to be a nightmare.