Dark Justice (Croft Family Mob Series Book 1) (46 page)

Greyson shook his head. “I hope you have this place safeguarded against eavesdropping devices.”

He grinned and patted his pocket. “We’re good.”

Emma leaned against her husband. She loved the smell of tobacco, his cologne, and bourbon on him.

It was incredibly sexy.

To clue him into what she was thinking about, she ran her hand all the way up his leg and right to the part of his body she loved most.

He didn’t even flinch, but he did lean down and nip her on the ear. “Later,” he whispered.

She couldn’t wait.

As Dimitri was about to make a comment, there was a shout from outside his private room in the heart of his club. It was still too early for most patrons. His guests were more an evening crowd.

Heading toward the door, he found Marissa being manhandled by two detectives.

It pissed him off.

Dimitri headed straight for them men. “Let go of her!”

Detective Heath Spencer stared at him. “She said you weren’t available. I guess she was wrong.”

When he let her go, she stumbled, falling to the floor.

Immediately, Dimitri wanted blood. He didn’t like when men touched women roughly to begin with, but one of his?

This was his bar.

He ran it.

Marissa was his responsibility.

He went to move at the man, but Greyson stepped in his way, restraining him. He placed his mouth by the man’s ear.

“He’s trying to get you to flip out. Breathe,” he whispered in his ear as he blocked him. “They want a reason to monitor this place.”

Dimitri was still furious, but Greyson was right.

“Get out of
‘Aquarius’
,” Emma stated. “You’re not welcome in here.”

Heath laughed. “We just came in for a drink and to talk about Seth Bell. We figured you’d like to have a little chitchat with some cops.”

She moved toward him. “Get out.”

“You don’t own this bar,” he said. “We checked.”

Emma wasn’t backing down. She stood in front of him with her arms crossed. “It’s in my hotel, and from here on out, you’re trespassing on my property. You can’t enter any place I own—here, a restaurant, a bar, a theater. I’m going to make your life a living hell.”

He stared at her.

“You wouldn’t.”

She laughed. Emma pulled out her phone and dialed Dante. When he answered, she put it on speaker.

“Yo?”

“Dante, I need something handled ASAP.”

“Shoot.”

“I’m here at
‘Aquarius’
, and Detectives Spencer and Lucas are trespassing in the hotel. I want their pictures circulated to every business we own, and I want them banned from the building. Detective Spencer just put his hands on a woman.”

“On it, Emma. I’ll send it over to all one hundred and fifteen businesses.”

She hung up.

“You won’t be able to go to half your favorite places. You will not come into my businesses, and act like this. You will get your ass out of here, and if you don’t stop stalking and harassing us, you will be dealing with our attorney. If you think Kenneth James was a shark when he got Marianna off all the time, you haven’t seen anything yet, Heath. Our attorney is a man-hating woman who likes to feast on dickwad assholes for breakfast. Now you’ve pissed me off. OUT!”

He was pissed.

She saw it.

Still, she didn’t care.

This shit wasn’t happening. You couldn’t poke at her family and get away with it. Dimitri would snap, as would Greyson, and it was clear that was what they wanted. They were trying to stir the pot.

The two detectives headed out.

“We know what you’re doing, Emma. We’ll make sure that cop is put to death.”

She didn’t care.

She’d fight for him until the last second. Now she was even more determined than before. When they were gone, Emma turned. Dimitri had gone over to Marissa and was kneeling beside her.

“What happened, honey?” he asked, his eyes full of concern.

“He came in and demanded to see you and Mr. Croft. I said you were in a meeting and to leave his number—you know…the proper protocol. I told him if you were interested, you’d call him back. If not…”

He touched her arm, and she winced in pain. Dimitri saw red all over again. There was a bruise forming on her arm.

It infuriated him when someone manhandled a woman like that—especially one he protected. His family and employees were off limits.

“He didn’t like my answer, so he grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. You saw the rest, sir.”

Yeah, he had.

Dimitri helped her up.

When she stepped down, she winced. “I twisted my ankle. Great,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gideon. I’m really sorry.”

He was angry, but not at her. He turned to look at his other staff. “Call in Marcos. He’s going to cover Marissa’s shifts. I’m going to make sure she’s okay.”

She went to say no, but he stopped her.

He wasn’t having it.

“You got hurt here, trying to do your job. I take care of my people, Marissa.”

“I’ll be fine by tomorrow. It’s just a sprain. I’ll be okay. There’s no need to make a fuss.”

Yes, there was.

This was clearly a sign of what was coming.

“He won’t be back,” Dimitri stated, glancing over at Emma and Greyson. Both looked troubled.

He didn’t like it.

“Maybe we should put some security in here,” Greyson offered.

Greyson knew the cops were getting dangerously close to crossing lines. They were playing dirty. Pushing him was one thing. Provoking Dimitri…that was an entirely different mess. Heath Spencer wanted to die—a very painful death.

Dimitri would consider his friend’s suggestion. Truthfully, he spent a great deal of time there, but he wasn’t in the backroom every day. He didn’t want his people hurt because the cops hated him.

That wasn’t happening.

“I’m going to get Marissa out of here,” he stated. 

“Do you want us to go with you?” Emma asked. There was safety in numbers.

There was also always someone with a calm head who would keep the men from losing their minds.

“No, we’ll split up. I don’t want them following me and harassing Marissa in her home. I don’t put it past that asshole.”

“Sir.”

He ignored her.

Dimitri snapped, and the staff rushed around, taking care of everything that had to be handled. If the boss wanted it done, they’d do it.

Dimitri swept Marissa up and into his arms. She looked incredibly uncomfortable, but he didn’t care. He was going to take care of her.

“We’ll go out the front and let the detectives follow us,” Greyson stated. “We’ll see you at home. Don’t let them get you angry, Dimitri.”

He would try, but they’d pushed a woman around. That to him was the vilest offense.

“I’ve got you, Marissa,” he offered, carrying her through his club.

She wanted to cry.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “You don’t have to do this, Mr. Gideon.”

Dimitri ignored her.

He did have to do this.

There were rules in his life, and this was one of his big ones. Women weren’t to be abused. They were meant to be respected and treated with gentleness. He may be a bastard, and he may hire call girls, but he’d never put a mark on any of them.

That’s not how he lived his life.

It wasn’t how people around him would behave.

“I’ll take care of you, Marissa,” he promised. She’d defended him, like a good employee, and he’d make sure she was safe.

Loyalty mattered.

He was about to prove it.

Dimitri wanted to take her to the hospital, but she wouldn’t let him do it. When she looked ready to break down and cry, he didn’t want to force the issue. She could stand on her foot, it simply hurt.

Truth be told, Dimitri felt horrible.

Marissa was a sweet woman. He’d watched her talk to his customers, handle his business when he was tied up, and just deal with the staff when he asked her to take over.

He genuinely thought she was an amazing person with terrific people skills. Where he lacked, she excelled. Dimitri trusted her with his place, and that said a lot.

‘Aquarius’
was his baby.

Now she was hurt, and he hated seeing her in pain.

As they pulled up to the apartment building, she went to get out.

“I’ll help you.”

She looked horrified. “I’ll be fine. I’ll take off my other shoe, and I can get to my place.”

He wouldn’t hear of it.

“Marissa, why are you so freaked out?” he asked. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to get you settled and nothing more, I swear.”

She wanted to escape.

The last thing she wanted was for him to see her place or to be in it.

This was Dimitri Gideon, and he was quite possibly the sexiest man in the world.

She hated the idea that he saw where she lived.

When he came around, scooping her up, she wanted to be even more mortified.

“I live on the sixth floor. I can walk, Mr. Gideon.”

He wouldn’t let that happen. “Dimitri.”

“What?” she asked in confusion.

“You can call me Dimitri. If you’re going to take on the city’s cops to keep them off my back, and nearly break your neck in those heels to do it, you get to use a person’s first name.”

She didn’t know what to say.

“As for the stairs, I can carry you up.”

Oh, she didn’t doubt that. She could feel the strength and power in his body.

This was mortifying.

As he carried her up the stairs, he didn’t even break a sweat. After walking up them at night, Marissa wanted a nap, a shower, and a bottle of water. There were a million steps, and it didn’t faze him at all.

At the door, he let her dig out her key.

“You can put me down.”

He didn’t listen to her. Instead, he lowered her so she could get the key in the lock.

When she did, after hesitating, he wanted to be amused. The woman in his arms was worried about something.

That made him curious.

Heading in, he looked around. It was a small apartment, sparsely furnished, and looked almost unlived in.

It reminded him of how he’d lived long ago. He’d refused to put down roots, and it looked like someone else was the same. He knew for a fact that Marissa was very well compensated. She could afford a much bigger, nicer place, but she didn’t have one.

It made him curious.

“Where do you want me to put you?” he asked. “Do you prefer the couch or your bed?”

Oh, she desperately wanted to say in bed, but there was no way she could let him in there. That just seemed so wrong.

This was her boss.

This was Dimitri freaking Gideon.

“Here’s fine,” she said, as he lowered her to the couch.

“I want you to take tomorrow off and not worry about work until you feel better. You’re hurt, so I’ll take care of everything.”

“Sir.”

“Dimitri.”

“Sir,” she still stated.

He wanted to laugh. She was so damn stubborn. He almost wanted to ask her if she was related to him. The woman wasn’t giving in, and he didn’t think she ever would.

“Dimitri,” he stated again. Then he compromised. “At work, sir is fine. Out of work, it’s Dimitri.”

She hesitated.

“Okay, Dimitri.”

He grinned at the battle he’d won. “Want me to get you anything? Dinner? Some ice?”

“NO!”

He laughed. “Jesus. I’m not Jack the Ripper. You’re safe. I promise.”

She knew that wasn’t true. She loved watching him, and he was a distraction.

No, Dimitri Gideon wasn’t safe—that was for damn sure.

“Okay, ice would be nice.”

He headed toward a kitchen, and once inside, it looked like her. It was sweet, comfortable, and the little pots of herbs in the window made him even more curious about her.

While the place was sparse, the little things that mattered to the woman were there.

The fussy things that he’d noticed about Emma. They were in this place too.

The pretty curtains on the one window.

The hand towels that matched the potholders.

It said a lot.

He was now even more curious about her. He’d done a basic background check on her, but he wanted to do more. Normally, he gave his employees some latitude when it came to their pasts. Everyone needed, no—deserved—a second chance, and he gave it to them.