Page 6 of Paolo DeLuca
“Jamison always signs his bills somehow.”
“You mean like how an artist signs a painting or drawing?” Gino asked.
Paolo nodded, holding the bill up to the light, turning it over and over. “Yes, once we find the signature…” His voice trailed off, and a grin stretched across his face.
Gino leaned forward. “What have you found?”
Paolo looked a little closer, bringing the bill higher into the light. He knew that mark and knew exactly who made the bills. Now he needed to know who she worked for.
“Fuck,” Paolo muttered, passing the bill to Gino. “Look in the top left of the bill.”
Gino did as Paolo a few moments ago. He held the bill up to the light, while Paolo picked up another bill, doing the same. “Shit,” Gino blurted out.
“Shit is right,” Paolo said.
In the top left corner of every bill he picked up, there was a small picture, no bigger than the tip of his pinky finger, of the state of California with a heart on the inside, representing California Love. He knew her mark when he saw it. Hell, she had it tattooed right above her ass.
Cali Martinez was one of the best counterfeiters he’d ever employed. She also had some of the best pussy Paolo ever sampled. He knew he should’ve never slept with her. He was her employer, but she was so fucking gorgeous and tempting, he had to try her out at least once. That one time turned into three fucking years and the reason for one of the rules he lived by now. It wasn’t only the DeLuca Code that ran his life. He had his own. One of them is not to fuck the help. His experience with Cali left him fucked up and untrusting—well, more untrusting of women, he should say. Before Cali, he’d never stayed with a woman for more than a few months, but there was something about her that he couldn’t let go. Did he love her? Hell no. He didn’t even know what the hell that felt like. Dante said he thought it was because he didn’t want anyone else to fuck her. That, and she knew a lot about his operation.
When he finally grew tired of Cali, she became a fucking thorn in his side. So much so, to get her to leave him the fuck alone, he threatened to kill her if he ever saw her again. For months, she stalked him. He caught her coming out of the elevator to his condo and following him to restaurants. The threat on her life was the only way he could get her to leave Miami. Had Paolo known how deranged she was, he would’ve never hired her, and he certainly would’ve never fucked her.
“Where is she now?” Gino asked as he handed the bills back to Paolo.
“I kept tabs on her over the last few months. As far as I know, she hasn’t stepped foot in Miami. Last I heard, she was back in California.”
“Clearly, she has some help hiding from you. Who the hell would be stupid enough to do it is what I want to know.” Gino nodded toward the bills, now sealed inside the sandwich bag. Cali wasn’t stupid. Gino was right; she had some help.
“Gather the boys,” Paulo ordered. “Tell them to get to the club tonight around closing time. I want her found.”
“I’ll call Dante.” Gino rose from his seat. Paolo was ready to get this thing started. The quicker he snuffed these fuckers out, the better it was for his business.
“Send Lyric in here,” Paolo called out before Gino was out the door.
He didn’t know what the hell he would say to her, but he had the uncontrollable urge to know more about her. Where did she come from? How did she end up working at his club?
“Let it go, Paolo,” he muttered to himself as his new obsession graced him with her presence.
“You wanted to see me?” she asked, peeking her head in the door.
He wanted to do a lot more than see her. He wanted to be inside her balls deep, and because of the pull toward her, he didn’t know if he would make the same mistake with Lyric he made with Cali.
Fuck, he was going to break his one rule.
