What I Fight For: A Bad Boy Military Romance (Easy Team Book 1) (29 page)

Chapter
Eleven
Halle

              The spreadsheet columns wavered in and out of my vision as my mind wandered off. I had been cleaning up some of the accounting mess that I had inherited for the last four hours. It was detailed and intricate work that showed me just how vast the Desmond fortune was.

              But after so many hours of looking at tiny print and hundreds of columns of figures, my mind was having a hard time focusing on the job.

              Instead, it kept wandering back to a pair of dark eyes and a rugged body. It kept pulling me back to the memory of his spicy masculine scent and his strong and powerful arms as they wrapped themselves around me.

              The night of the dinner was a little blurry thanks to the brandy. But I remembered the moments worth remembering. I remembered being tossed into Marco’s arms as if I weighed as much as a newborn. And I remembered how absolutely comfortable and safe I had felt in them.

              I knew it would sound crazy to anyone else. Everyone knew just how dangerous the Desmond Family was. How could anyone think themselves safe in their arms?

              And yet, I couldn’t deny the warmth I had felt that night. I closed my eyes, remembering that flood of relief I had felt when Marco had come to my rescue. Since then, I had yet to see Wiggy or any of the men from my table.

              And then in my room….

              Although I knew I was alone in my office, my cheeks burned red as I recalled his expert hands as they plunged up my dress, finding my panties instantly. He had gripped them into a bunch and pulled, pulling the material straight between my burning pussy.

              I had hoped to god he hadn’t noticed just how aroused I had been. Yes, I had been stunned by his actions, shocked even. But my body undeniably had also been aroused. With each pull of my bunched panties, my pussy had grown more inflamed, more needy.

              After spending countless months trying to deny and hide my sexuality as a woman because of its liability, it was surprising how refreshing it was to have a man look at me as a woman. And not through the eyes of greasy chauvinism like at the FBI but with the fiery heat of a man who was clearly attracted to the woman before him.

              But more than the memory of that night, what really stuck with me was his expression. His face had looked calm and cool as if he didn’t have his hand up my dress and was playing havoc with my pussy. But I could see something past those obsidian eyes. There was a struggle, a turmoil.

              Marco Desmond was definitely not what I had been expecting when I had taken this job.

              He was known, and even documented in his FBI file, as a notorious womanizer. Everyone from models to actresses had fallen for him. And each one had been casually tossed aside after only a few months. He was a dangerous mobster, a ladykiller, and an
actual
killer.

              I had expected a smooth talking playboy who had a pension for criminal activity.

              And when I had first met him, that’s what he had looked like. But now, living under the same roof as him, looking through the Desmond accounts, hearing the gossip around the women who congregated here, I could tell that there was something much more to this man.

              Anyone with two eyes could see Marco Desmond was a skilled fighter and killer. Even in the way he walked, you could see the complete control and grace he had over his body. He knew exactly how to control every muscle within him and if he so chose, use them to effectively kill another person.

              But there was a contradictory light in his eyes. His very presence seemed to fight against being in the Desmond Family compound and yet he took on all the jobs he was assigned and completed them successfully. He seemed not to want any recognition for his work for the Mafia by hiding constantly under a variety of aliases and yet still did the work that made up the backbone of the Desmond Family.

              What was his struggle?

              I opened my eyes and looked at my computer screen. The numbers here also spoke of an oddity. Where was his name in any of these accounts? I had yet to find anything that Marco Desmond could lay claim to except the plants in Germany. And as far as I could see, nobody seemed to have a hand in the plants management except Marco.

              It made no sense. Could Roy Desmond be that greedy?

              But before I could go further in my line of thought, a knock at the door interrupted me.

              A man stood in the doorway. I recognized him as one of Roy’s personal guards.

              “Mr. Desmond would like to speak with you,” he said.

              I swallowed before nodding. I had had very few moments to speak with Roy Desmond so far. And in all of the meetings, the Juarez Family deal had yet to be mentioned, much to the consternation of Agent Hadfield and Truman.

              Meeting Roy Desmond was still a nerve wracking experience.

              I slowly rose and followed the guard out towards Roy’s own personal offices.

              Although this was a mansion meant to be a home for someone, albeit an extremely luxurious home, Roy had his offices set up like an actual executive suite in an office building.

              There was an outer room complete with a secretary’s desk and two expensive leather sofas meant for waiting guests. There was no secretary presently though.

              And then two heavy double doors led into the inner sanctum of Roy’s office.

              I was immediately led through.

              Roy was in a deep red leather chair, smoking another one of his thick cigars. He was reading the paper when I came in. He barely looked up even as I took a seat across from his desk.

              I waited politely as he finished his paper, too nervous to make any noise anyway.

              Finally, Roy looked up, fixing me with his sharp gaze. “I hear you’ve been quite the busy bee in your office,” he said.

              That startled me a bit but I immediately calmed myself. Of course he’d have people spying in on me. This was a mobster’s house after all.

              I nodded. “Yes, I’ve nearly straightened the accounts for the Helmsley merger and now I’m going through the Denton—”

              Roy waved a hand, cutting me off. Clearly he wasn’t that interested in the details. “Fine, fine,” he said. He ran his tongue over his gums, casually sucking his teeth as if he was considering something.

              “It seems you’re taking to this work,” he said, his gravelly voice slow.

              I nodded. “I’d like to think I am,” I answered.

              Roy nodded. “Then maybe you’re ready to do a little bit more for me,” he said.

              I took in a quick intake of air, wondering what he could possibly be asking of me. I tried to keep my face calm and expectant without looking too nervous at the same time. Would he finally be bringing up the Juarez deal?

              Roy pursed his lips. “I’m sure looking through the files, you’ve noticed that most of the Desmond holdings are under my name,” he started.

              Whatever I had been expecting, it hadn’t been that. “Yes, I have,” I said slowly, still unsure where this was going.

              Roy nodded, pleased I had caught that. “Well, all of that is the product of my blood, sweat, and tears for this Family,” he said in a loud tone as if to brag and defend his earnings at the same time. I nodded again. Roy blew out a ring of smoke.

              “It’s right that the head of the family should have the majority hold on everything,” he continued. Then he gave a large shrug. “But eventually, there’s a turnover.”

             
Marco.

              He’s talking about Marco.

              “My son,” Roy said, confirming my guess, “is becoming ready to take over. He’s worked hard for the Family.” Roy paused as he took another puff from his cigar. “He deserves to have his name put on a few of those holdings.”

              So Marco’s name had been absent all this time because of Roy’s greed? That was really the reason why? But it didn’t seem to make total sense. Marco was missing
everywhere.

              “You’d like me to transfer some of the ownership titles to Marco?” I asked, clarifying.

              Roy nodded, grinning to himself. “That son of a bitch has avoided responsibility long enough,” he muttered, almost to himself. Then he raised his head and nodded again, saying in a louder voice, “Pick a few of the holdings from the East Coast and have them transferred into Marco’s name. Aim to give him a 35% majority ownership.”

             
35%!
That was huge! Marco essentially had 0% stake in anything valuable currently. To raise him to 35% meant he would only be second to Roy. That was a breathtaking rise in fortune!

              “You’re a notary too, right?” Roy suddenly asked.

              I nodded dumbly, still too shocked to respond.

              Roy puffed his cigar and nodded, pleased. “Good, good,” he said. “File the paperwork, send me a copy to review, and then notarize the transfer.”

              “But,” I said worried, “this kind of transfer would also require the signature and approval of the recipient. Marco would also need a copy of the papers.”

              Roy brushed my words away with a flick of his hands. “This is Family business. A father can’t look out for his own boy without everyone sticking their nose in it?” he asked in a voice of mock outrage. “Just draw up the papers and send them my way. Then you can notarize them yourself.”

              “But—” I started again.

              Roy cut me an icy glare. “Margot, I hired you not only for your skills but also for your discretion and loyalty,” he said, enunciating each word with a chilling emphasis. “Now either you can do what I ask you to do or you can walk.”

              I swallowed, unable to help the slight shiver that ran down my spine as Roy talked. Despite being older now and quite heavy, he was still a frightening man to come face to face with.

              I nodded. “Of course, sir,” I said quietly. “I can have those papers drawn up within a few days.”

              Roy nodded, satisfied. “Good.”

              I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful to have avoided anything explosive. I saw Roy nod at the guard behind me, a clear dismissal to have me escorted out. I rose from my seat, eager to leave.

              But before I could even take one step towards the door, Roy called out in an offhand voice, “Oh and I have a very large deal coming up with another Family very soon. I’ll send the details over. Make sure the accounts are good and the money flows into the right pockets.”

              I paused before nodding again.

              Roy returned to his paper and cigar, dismissing me completely.

              The Juarez Family deal. He had finally brought it up.

              Now the real plan would fall into motion.

Chapter
Twelve
Halle

              “What about these? Have you seen these names on the documents?” Agent Hadfield asked, lifting up a piece of paper to the camera.

              I squinted as I read the names. “Yes, Baccali and Gregor were in some of the files I reviewed. It listed the acquisitions of those Family’s properties,” I answered quietly into my laptop.

              I was in my room, sitting in bed with my laptop raised on a pillow on my lap. I had my headphones in to minimize the noise and was speaking as quietly as I could.

              As an employee of the Desmond Mafia, I only moved when Roy told me to move. And so far, all my movements had been restricted to the house. So there was no way for me to touch bases with the FBI physically.

              But we had anticipated that prior to my going under.

              So we had set up my laptop with a secure line and a private VPN that would allow me to video chat with the head agents. But secure or not, we only used these opportunities sparingly. I was sitting in the heart of the Desmond Family and there was no such thing as being overly cautious.

              If I were to be caught with two FBI agents chatting with me on my laptop, I would most definitely be killed on the spot.

              Agent Hadfield’s face suddenly reappeared, taking the place of the paper. He nodded. “Good, good,” he said. “And you said the Juarez deal has been mentioned now.”

              “Not by name,” I corrected. “But he told me to prepare myself for a ‘very large deal’ and to keep an eye on the accounts as money changed hands. I can only assume he’s talking about the Juarez deal.”

              Agent Truman nodded, running a hand over his chin as he thought over the information.

              “What about Marco Desmond?” he asked. “Have you been able to get any information out of him?”

              I hesitated, unsure what to say about Marco. No, I hadn’t received any information from him in regards to the case. But I’ve certainly gained a lot of information
about
the real Marco Desmond and who he might be under the enigma of the Desmond hitman.

              “No, not really,” I finally said, feebly.

              Agent Hadfield sighed in frustration. “What are you doing then? That’s your target! Get close to him and see how much he’ll talk! He’ll have the best insight on what’s going on.”

              But would he? I had yet to divulge the interesting discovery of Marco’s lack of presence in all of the Desmond holdings. Perhaps there was a reason for it. Perhaps Marco was intentionally kept in the dark. It made absolutely no sense but I had yet to find a better explanation.

              Then again, Roy had just ordered me to transfer a significant portion of the Desmond estate under Marco’s name.

              I sighed, feeling just as confused and baffled.

              “He’ll probably hold key information that could help finalize our raid,” Agent Truman added.

              “What if he doesn’t?” I asked. “What will happen to the raid then?”

              Agent Hadfield frowned. “It’d still happen,” he said. “We’ll only get one shot at something like this. Two of the biggest crime families meeting together in one place? We have to take the shot. But we’d be better aimed if we had insider intel.”

              “Agent Margot,” Agent Truman added, “there was a
reason
why you were offered his field op.” He looked at me with knowing raised brows and a slight smirk. I tried not to pull my hair in frustration. I knew if I had been standing in front of him, he would’ve given me one of those disgustingly crude once over looks, lingering on my breasts and hips. I had gotten one too many of them over the years from the other male agents. It was horrible to be reminded that it was my cup size that had given me the upper hand in landing this job. But I gritted my teeth, still determined to prove my true potential through this mission.

“Prove to us that we haven’t made a mistake,” Agent Truman said, echoing my own thoughts but with a completely different context.

              “I don’t think Marco Desmond will be able to help us,” I said, swallowing my anger and focusing back on the real matter at hand. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to turn the spotlight away from Marco but I did. “He might not even know that much more than I do at the moment.”

              Agent Truman pursed his lips before saying under his breath, “By this time, he should know enough.”

              I caught Agent Hadfield giving his partner a look, shushing him. What did that mean—
by this time?

              “Shouldn’t I be more focused on Roy Desmond?” I asked, watching the two agents shift in their seats, jostling the camera in front of them. “After all, I’m working under him, not Marco. I’ve even gotten more information from him than Marco. I think if I keep—”

              “No,” Agent Hadfield interrupted abruptly. He cleared his throat and then said in a calmer tone of voice, “No. Marco is your target. Roy will only give you enough specifics to do your job. Marco Desmond should have more information that’ll help us plan an effective raid. Keep focused on your target, Agent Margot. We hope that you’ll have more to report to us at our next call.”

              “Yes, sir,” I said automatically, hearing the clear note of dismissal in his tone.

But before I could shut the laptop, Agent Truman spoke up, asking casually, “By the way, in the accounts you’ve been looking at, how’s the division rate? Pretty equal between the Desmond boys? Or is Daddy Desmond still the majority holder?”

Agent Truman and Hadfield looked completely natural as they waited for my response, as if they were asking for something inconsequential. But I could feel something tingling at the back of my neck. Something was off.

“Roy Desmond is still almost completely the majority holder of nearly all of the Desmond estate,” I said, watching their reactions carefully.

Both agents looked mildly surprised and very definitely disappointed. I kept my mouth shut on Roy’s recent request to transfer some holdings to his son.

“Oh,” Agent Truman said. “Fine then. We’ll touch base in a few days, Agent Margot. Good night.”

“Good night,” I said and then snapped the computer shut.

Leaning back against the headboard of my bed, I pushed the computer away. What the heck was that?

The way that the agents had offhandedly asked about the Desmond property was achingly familiar. That similar casual tone that hid something much bigger.

And then it hit me. Roy Desmond had just dismissed me from his office in the similar fashion. After telling me to draw up the legal documents of transfer, he had casually dropped the hint about a big deal coming up.

This kind of offhand but clearly not casual dropping of questions and hints was extremely suspicious. Especially since they were both coming from sources of immense power. Roy Desmond was incredibly powerful and nothing he said or did was small or casual in scale, ever.

And the FBI was no slouch either. They were a Bureau made up of some of the most meticulous and analytical people in the country. There were no casual questions when it came from an FBI agent. And certainly not when the agents asking those questions are leading a highly sensitive undercover mission.

I understood them being interested in what kind of holdings the Desmond Family had. After all, it’ll only corroborate the information we have on what other crime families they had taken out over the years. Baccali and Gregor were older mafia families that had been swallowed up by the Desmonds.

But Agent Truman had asked something very specific. He had asked who was the majority holder within the Desmond Mafia.

In regards to the raid, the Juarez Family, or to the rest of the case, the identity of the majority holder really held very little importance. After all, it was safe to assume the majority holder would be Roy Desmond. And if not Roy, then Marco. Either way, it was staying within the Desmonds.

But Agent Truman had wanted to know who it specifically was. He had tried to hide his interest by throwing the question out there like an offhand remark but I could see it for what it was.

Something was feeling off here.

Something that made me glad that I didn’t mention Roy’s request or just how lacking Marco’s name was within all the Family documents.

I knew the raid was being planned at the moment. A special team had been organized to plan the whole mission. In one fell swoop, the FBI wanted to grab up the Desmond Family and the Juarez Family. It would be a huge blow to the largest criminal syndicate of North America.

But I could feel something niggling in the back of my mind. Something just wasn’t feeling right.

I lowered myself under my covers, exhausted from the sheer stress of the mission. I needed to rest if I was going to think straight. And straight I had to think if I was going to make sure that nothing was really wrong.

Because nothing
could
be wrong. Because wrong meant mistakes. And mistakes in a place like this could mean my life.