Chapter 122 Always fucking problems - Vincent

Chapter 122 Always fucking problems - Vincent
I narrow my eyes at Elio. He's humming some tune that I can't make out. The fucker might be a tad psychotic, like most of us, but I have never heard him sing, let alone hum.
"Did you talk to Bella?" I want to know, and he immediately stops.
"Yes." He doesn't meet my eyes. "It wasn't her."
"How do you know?" I ask suspiciously.
He's been different this last week. To be fair, so have I. For once, there is peace in my house, even though I did quite enjoy it when Lily and I were fighting. Fights make for a very spicy environment. We're still bickering, but I try to get home as early as possible, and she always smells so good when I get in bed next to her, opening up her sweet thighs so I can do exactly what I want to.
"Because I know when she's lying, and she wasn't lying." He smirks. "Have you heard anything back from the city council? All those things about Anderson, and they're still not selling you the land? I told you to look somewhere else."
"But I want that one." I know I'm starting to sound like an insolent toddler, but when my gut is telling me something, I usually listen. "It's the perfect place for a casino. What the fuck is taking them so long anyway?"
Whose dick do I need to suck, just for them to accept my damn offer?
"I'll try to twist some arms, and try to find out what the hold-up is." Elio offers. "And if the Anderson leak didn't come from our side, it came from somewhere. Do you think maybe Jimmy can hack into the news station and find the source?"
"It wouldn't hurt to try."
"I'll see what I can find out, and let you know." He salutes me before leaving the office.
I did think it would be stupid of Bella to leak the information when she's been begging me to employ her permanently, and I specifically told her not to. It's bad news to interfere with other's criminal activities, especially if your own dealings are not above water.
My phone rings, and it's the detective's burner phone number. I'm gonna be pissed if I was accused of yet another thing that I didn't do.
"Jones." I answer. "To what do I owe this pleasure."
"DiCassio." I can hear from the way he says my last name that I'm not going to like what comes out of his mouth. "Thought I'd give you a courtesy call."
"Like the courtesy one hundred grand I sent your way?" My father taught me that it's good to remind cops that you're paying them, especially if it's more than they would ever earn.
"Word on the streets is, that some escorts are claiming you drugged them."
I freeze.
What the fuck more am I going to have to go through? "How do you know? Was there a report being made?"
Those escorts were my father's, and for the love of me I don't know why they would go running to the cops when I paid them ever so generously. Yes, that asshole Anderosn pulled a wool over my eyes with the fucking drugs, but girls who work for us do not go running to the law. I know for a fact the drugs didn't make one of them end up in the hospital.
"Not yet, but if I heard about it, other cops will hear about it too, so you better kill it in the bud before something comes of it."
"Got it, thanks for looking out."
I end the call, almost throwing it against the fucking wall before I grab my car keys to head fucking home and ask my father why the hell his girls are talking.
I don't care much for the skin trade. I don't mind the strip clubs, but selling sex is not high up my list of business. It is my father's, and he runs an exclusive escort service that caters to the rich and powerful. I don't like it, but it does come in handy now and then, especailly if you want some secrets from powerful men. I do feel a little guilty for the escorts, because drugs weren't part of the package, but I had Anderson right where I wanted him, and the footage was gold.
I spot Lily in the garden in front of the big tree with a canvas, wrapped in a scarf and beanie, and even though I want to go to her, I head straight to the library where my father does his business from.
He's discussing something with Lorenzo when I enter, and they both look expectantly at me.
"Your girls are talking to cops." I tell Father. "The ones I hired for Anderson's boat."
"No way." Father frowns. "All my girls have NDA's, and I've never had a complaint."
"They're also the cream of the crop." Lorenzo crosses his ankles at his legs. "I hand picked some of them myself."
I do not want to know or care where he got the girls from. "My source is always relaible, so fix it, before I fix it myself."
I have no desire to deal with those girls. Anderson fucked them over just like he fucked me over.
And if I don't get that fucking property, it would have all been for nothing.