Chapter 4 Take It Or Leave It
"You start Monday.”
Cedric blinked, dragging his attention away from the cop’s mouth, the kind of mouth that looked like it knew how to do very interesting things in bed, not focusing at all on the words being said.
Brett had dropped him off at the police station twenty minutes ago with a “good luck, you’re gonna need it” that had done absolutely nothing to calm Cedric’s nerves, even after the morphine he took to chill out.
He noticed the cop’s name tag and read it. Detective Marcus fucking Chen!
How the hell was his high school crush now a cop?! And he had only gotten better looking! Sure he’d traded the letterman jacket for a police uniform, but he still had that same cool attitude that had made sixteen-year-old Cedric weak in the knees.
The same sharp jawline, the same green eyes that could probably see right through Cedric’s bullshit. And that mouth, holy mother of fuck! He was dying to know what it would feel like wrapped around his cock.
“--- listening to me?” Marcus was saying, his voice clipped with irritation.
“Hmm?” Cedric realised he’d been staring again. “Yeah, totally. Monday. Got it.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened. “Let me be clear about something, Cedric. I don’t like this arrangement. I don’t like working with criminals, and I especially don’t like working with…” He gestured vaguely at Cedric,”…your type.”
“My type?” Cedric leaned back in the uncomfortable plastic chair, spreading his arms wide. “You mean devastatingly handsome? Charming? Effortlessly cool?”
“I mean drug addicts with criminal records who think they’re smarter than they actually are.” Marcus shuffled some papers on his desk, not looking at Cedric. “Which is why I’m considering replacing you.”
“Wait.” Cedric sat up straighter. “What do you mean ‘replacing me’? I thought this was a done deal.”
“It was.” Marcus finally met his eye with a satisfied expression. “Until I talked to my superiors. You would’ve started Monday, but lucky for us, they found someone else.”
Cedric spluttered with disbelief, “Someone else?”
“Yes. A different informant who, despite not having your particular skills” Marcus loaded the word with disdain. “Is actually a more trustworthy option. Someone with less baggage who doesn’t have three priors for drug possession and---”
A woman barged into the office, dressed in what Cedric recognised as high-end club wear: tight dress, statement jewellery and a full face of makeup. An escort, probably the expensive kind.
“Are you trying to get me killed?” she demanded, jabbing a long fingernail at Marcus’s chest.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Detective. You want me to work as a bottle girl for the new kingpin coming into town?” She laughed sharply. “Serving drinks to that psychopath and his crew?”
“Ms Rivera, if you’d just calm down and let me explain…”
“Explain what? How are you going to protect me if things go sideways? Huh?” She was pacing now, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. “I’ve heard stories about that devil. The things he does to people who cross him. Hell, even the things he does to people who don’t cross him.”
“The department will provide protection…”
“Protection!” She spun around, her eyes blazing. “Ha! Protection didn’t save Big Tony! You know? That snitch in Brooklyn whose body they found in the river last month? You think I’m stupid enough to put a target on my back for whatever pocket change you’re offering?”
“It’s not pocket change, Ms Rivera. The compensation is enough to--”
“I wouldn’t do it for all the money in the world. And don’t you ever call me for a job again. I’m done! Find another sucker.”
She stormed out as dramatically as she’d entered, leaving the door swinging on its hinges.
Meanwhile Cedric felt manic, unhinged laughter bubbling up from deep in his chest.
Marcus turned to stare at him. “Is something funny?”
“This whole situation.” Cedric wiped his eyes, still grinning. “It’s just… I thought, what could be crazier than the shit I’m already doing? Talking to cops for money. But this…”
He gestured at the door the woman had just stormed through. “Working for the same man I owe three hundred grand is actually a new level of stupid. I’m actually impressed with myself.”
Marcus’s expression shifted; he sat back down slowly, studying Cedric with new interest. “You owe money to Gianni Falcone?”
“Yeah. I mean… unless there’s another big bad Mafia boss coming to New York, I’m pretty sure he’s the one I’m owing.” Cedric rolled the name around in his mouth. “Is that his name? The new crime boss everyone’s so terrified of?”
“How much do you owe him?”
“Technically, it’s my dead father’s debt, but five hundred thousand dollars as of last night. They doubled it because…” Cedric waved his hand. “Something about new management. I’ve got two weeks to pay up or they start taking members of my family as interest.”
Marcus leaned forward, elbows on his desk. “This changes things.”
“Does it?”
“You have actual skin in the game,” Marcus’s mind was clearly working, recalculating odds and angles. “If you bring down Falcone, then we can make that debt disappear. We’ll seize his assets, freeze his accounts, and put him in prison where he can’t send his goons after your family.”
“That’s assuming you can actually bring him down,” Cedric pointed out. “And that I survive long enough to see it happen.”
“It won’t be easy,” Marcus admitted. “Falcone is smart, he keeps his hands clean and only ever operates through intermediaries. We’ve been trying to build a case against him for months, but everyone’s too scared to talk.”
“They’re scared? Wow, I can’t imagine why.”
“That’s where you come in.” Marcus pulled out a folder, spreading photos and documents across his desk. “He’s opening a new club Monday night. It’s a high-end place in Manhattan, invitation only, with exclusive celebrity clientele.”
He paused, watching for my reaction, “He’ll be there personally to oversee the launch. So we need someone on the inside who can get close enough to him and his inner circle to keep tabs on his movements, his associates, and his business dealings. That sort of thing.”
“You’ll be safe. He doesn’t know what you look like,” Marcus continued. “His collectors do, but they’re just low-level muscle, so they won’t be at this kind of event. You’ll be just another pretty face serving overpriced alcohol to rich assholes.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself, big man,” Cedric repeated, winking at Marcus “But I don’t have experience with bottle service, is that going to be a problem?”
“You’ve worked at bars. It’s the same thing, the only difference is that it’s just more expensive and you smile more.” Marcus tapped the folder. “You report every single thing you hear back to me every night. Got it?”
Cedric considered this. He remembered his mother’s tired face, Lily’s bruises, and the debt hanging over their heads. They deserved a better life than living in fear in that shitty house with his stepfather, so he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make more money.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “But you’re not paying me what you were going to pay Ms Rivera.”
Marcus lifted one eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You’re desperate. You need someone on the inside, and I’m literally the only option you have left. Your bottle girl just walked out, plus I’m guessing you don’t have a long line of people willing to risk their lives playing spy.”
Cedric leaned forward, “So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to pay me triple whatever you were offering her, cash, upfront.”
“That’s…”
“Non-negotiable.” Cedric’s smile widened. “You want me to risk my life infiltrating a crime organisation that could very well get rid of me permanently? Then you’d better make it worth my while. Because right now, I’m thinking it’s safer to just skip town and take my chances.”
The silence stretched between them for ten whole seconds, neither of them backing down.
Finally, Marcus exhaled sharply, “Fifty thousand. That’s triple, that’s also the absolute limit of what I can authorise without--”
“Sixty.”
“Fifty-five, and that’s my final offer.”
Cedric pretended to think about it, even though they both knew he’d take whatever he could get. “Fine. Fifty-five grand. Half now, half when the job’s done.”
“Deal.”
They shook on it, and even though it felt like signing away his soul, Cedric couldn’t quit thinking about what those hands might feel like around his throat.
“So,” Cedric said casually, unable to resist. “Any chance this Falcone guy is into men?”
Marcus’s expression went carefully blank. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because if I’m going to be serving him drinks, then it helps to know if he’s batting for my team. Makes the job easier if I can flirt my way into his inner circle.”
“Keep your distance from him. If Falcone takes an interest in you…” Marcus warned coldly,”…it will be the worst thing that ever happens to you in your entire life.”