Virginia frowned as her eyes did a back and forth between Dominique's face and the men finishing up their installation out in the main room. "Where did the money come from, Dominique?"

After five nights straight of camping outside Gus's house, with nothing to show for it but a sore ass, she'd decided to take a break and stop in at the gym instead. Upon entering the front door, she had spotted the two men up on ladders putting in what she had first assumed were light fixtures. It hadn't taken long to realize they were setting up security cameras.

"Top of the line security cameras," they had assured her.

When she'd asked who had ordered such an extravagant purchase, one of them pointed to the local legend working with a student in the ring. As the gym's manager, Dominique certainly played a big role in the decision-making, but large draws on their limited cash reserves had to go through her. Virginia had marched over, called him out the ring, and led him into her office.

Where they now stood. In stubborn silence. Staring each other down.

Dominique finally gave in, letting out a sigh before shocking the hell out of her with, "Spinelli. The live feed hooks into his crib."

Everything went rigid and the sound of her voice seemed to come from miles away when she muttered, "How could you do that?"

"It was ordered months ago, when you two were still . . ." A hand came up to rub the back of his neck. "He said he would tell you."

Another silence stretched between them as she tried to figure out who was really to blame in this twisted scenario. At least he had the decency to look contrite.

Dominique shuffled his feet. "I'm guessing he never fessed up to—"

"Have them taken out. I'm not having him watch over me."

"No."

Her hands came up to her hips. This was so unlike Dominique, to go behind her back and do something he knew she would never have approved.

"I'm sorry. I'm not cool doin' biz with that asshole either, but I think we need this. Remember Darnell getting beaten? No way am I letting anything happen to this gym. I'll go to any lengths necessary to defend it, and you."

His eyes were full of guilt, and she sensed there was more to this story. Any lengths was a pretty strong statement, and she already had her suspicions. "Tell me it isn't you."

"What?"

"Tell me you are not the leader of that vigilante pack I've been reading about in the news."

He looked away.

"I told you not to do it, that I would talk to the city."

"And how did that play out, Virginia?" Anger flashed across his face, reminding her of someone else.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he was in on that too," she muttered, not being serious.

Dead silence.

Oh. My. God. She left the office in a rush.

"Virginia, hold up," Dominique called out across the gym's expansive floor, the rein-in landing on deaf ears.

The hinges on the gym door got an impromptu stress test as she burst through it and fast-tracked her way to her car. Tires spun and squealed as the Mustang tore away from the curb. She headed directly to his house with no warning lights, no siren, but a great deal of contempt.

It was six P.M. and almost dark by the time she arrived. Turning into the driveway, she could just make out Bruce sitting in the gatehouse, the yellowish glow of a lamp softening his harsh features. The sound of her car brought his head around, and within seconds the gate started to close. He stood and opened the door, his body a large black silhouette filling the frame and blocking the light.

Not having time to weigh the odds, she slammed her foot down, held her breath, and fought the urge to close her eyes as she went roaring past him.

"Not this time, bitch," he called out.

Barely making it through the shrinking opening, Virginia blew out a thankful breath, but the relief was short-lived. Glancing in her rearview, she spotted him with a dirt bike. In one fluid motion, he was on and the starter kicked down. The bike fishtailed until it hit pavement whereupon his feet came up and his body leaned forward. He accelerated, closing in on her. Fast.

"Shit," she muttered, pressing harder on the gas.

There were a number of parked cars at the top of the driveway, which normally would have had her rethinking the timing of her visit, but with Bruce right up her ass, she was pretty much committed.

She made it to the front door and slammed on the brakes, skidding to a stop. Leaving the car running, she jumped out and ran up the steps to the entrance, hoping it was unlocked.

It was.

"Spinelli!" she yelled, marching through the front foyer.

Louis spun around at the commotion. He was in the hallway, heading for the kitchen. The only other people she could see were a well-dressed young black man and an equally young white woman sitting at the bar that spanned the back of the living room. The woman was all legs but it was the dark, pin-straight hair hanging down to her hips and colored smurf blue for the final six inches or so that really caught the eye. Well, that and the itty bitty dress which showed off her body and quite possibly her underwear. If she's wearing underwear. The thought did nothing to improve Virginia's mood.

"Where is he?" she barked at the chauffeur in front of her as she invited herself in and moved down the hall.

"How did you get in here, Lieutenant?"

His eyes shifted behind her with the sound of Bruce's footfalls taking the steps and coming to a halt. The two men eyeballed each other and she knew exactly what the silent communication was all about: Trying to muscle a fully-armed, pissed-off woman back out the door might not be such a great idea at this point.

"Lieutenant Robins?" the young man at the bar called over.

She turned to glare at the source of the interruption. Her eyes narrowed as he approached, then widened upon recognizing him. He was from the Southeast neighborhood, a good kid whose few minor run-ins with the law had been desperate attempts to earn some fast cash and help his mother. "Gerry?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a small smile.

"What are you doing here?"

"Mr. Spinelli . . . he gave me a job. He was there when the judge put me on probation, you know, for the TV thing. He said you had helped his nephew, so he wanted to help me." He shrugged, looking down at his shoes while adding, "He said you might not be cool with it, that I shouldn't tell you."

"There seems to be a lot of that going around. Go get in my car, Gerry. I'm taking you out of here."

"Now slow down," Louis said. "He's just driving for-"

"How long until Gus asks him to do something more? Something illegal."

"He drives Augustus."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Virginia raised her voice for all to hear, including the man she had come to see, who was likely listening from somewhere in the shadows. "Working for any Chilvati is a disgrace."

"I like this job." Gerry had evidently decided to plead his own case. "Mom and I are movin' to a nicer place." He paused, looking like he was trying to come up with a more persuasive argument before his finger shot up in the air. "I even scored"—his hands moved to his jacket, smoothing down the lapels and tugging at the hemline—"a couple of new suits." There was a teasing smile when he added, "But I'm guessin' that date you promised is out of the question?"

"Get in the car, Gerry," she snapped.

His weight shifted and he looked from her to Louis and back. "I don't want to disappoint you no more, especially after the way you helped Mom out, finding her a good doctor and all. If you think I should quit . . . I will." There was resolve in his voice, but his face gave away his disappointment.

"The boss won't let him get over his head. He'll keep him clean," Louis offered up as Gerry nodded his agreement.

"Riiiiiight. Well, you don't mind if I hear that from him, do you?" She pushed past them both, moving farther down the hall to yell, "Spinelli!"

"He's in a meeting." Catching up to her, Louis patted the air in front of her with his palms. Why men think that would calm a woman down was always a mystery to her.

"I don't give a shit. Tell him to get his ass out here!"

Movement caught her eye and she twisted to see Mark exiting what she knew to be the boardroom at the end of the hall. Still dressed in his suit and tie from the workday, it was clear that Louis had been telling the truth. At the sight of him, grief, longing, and anger tore through her, each offering different outcomes as a motivator.

His face darkened upon seeing her and he made a grab for the door behind him, pulling it closed as quickly and quietly as he could. "What the hell is going on?" he hissed across the distance.

She went with anger. Anger would get her through this.

His hurried strides had him in front of her before she could even blink. Snatching her by the elbow, he spun her around and escorted her roughly toward the front door. "You need to get out of here," he growled as he pulled her along.

She twisted out of his hold. "Don't touch me!"

"Then leave. It's your choice. Either you walk out that door on your own or I drag you out kicking and screaming."

Like hell he—

There was an indignant tone to the man's voice that called, "Mark!"

Virginia looked over her shoulder. Augustus Chilvati was standing by the boardroom door, silver hair perfectly coiffed, grey eyes piercing the distance between them. Shocked to see the reclusive patriarch in person, she turned to face him. The dark suit he wore was sleek and modern and probably cost more than her whole wardrobe, although that wasn't saying much.

He headed over to the two of them with his focus on her. He must have been a stunning man in his younger years considering he was still incredibly handsome, well into his sixties.

"It's Lieutenant Robins, isn't it?" The Italian accent was barely noticeable, worn down from years of living in the States.

"Yes." She stood straighter, undeterred by his stare.

"You are even prettier than your picture."

She had no response to that. She glanced over at Mark, but he had all of his attention on his boss-and she could sense his unease.

"Augustus . . ." the young woman whined from across the room.

Impatience crossed the older man's face before he turned to her with a patronizing smile. Blue Tips maneuvered herself off the bar stool—not an easy task considering the shortness of her outfit—and the exaggerated sway of hips as she approached gave her an experienced seducer aura, a stark contrast to the youthful face that was revealed once the woman got closer. She couldn't have been much older than twenty-one, if that.

"When are we going home, sweetie?" she asked with a pout.

"Soon . . . Why don't you have another drink?" Augustus shifted his head in the direction of the bar. "Gerry, get another drink for Alicia, will you?"

Gerry took the hint and escorted the girl, still wearing the pout, away from their conversation.

Ordinarily, Virginia didn't judge a person's choice in sexual partners, but for God's sake, the girl was young enough to be his granddaughter. "Are you sure Alicia is old enough to drink?"

Augustus's head snapped around, his sharp, grey eyes boring into hers. The room fell silent. So silent, she flinched when the man suddenly threw his head back with an explosive laugh, his gleaming white smile a testimony to how well he took care of himself. Virginia took a slow step back, thinking it was probably a good time to go. She'd have to save her accusations for another day.

Just as quickly as it had appeared, the smile left his face. "Surely you are not here to check IDs, are you? Tell me why you are really here, my dear."

Her mind did a quick rewind to when Mark had told her the callous suggestion Augustus had made after seeing their picture in the paper: Have sex and move on. No need to elaborate beyond that. She had no problem making something up. The real question was whether or not he'd believe her. "I left my gold bracelet here, but Spinelli"—she threw him a fierce look—"has this egotistical belief that I'm just making excuses to keep seeing him. All I want is my damn bracelet."

Augustus studied her, no doubt weighing her sincerity. "Do you have her bracelet?" The question was meant for Mark even though his stare didn't stray from her face.

There was a deep "hmph" followed by, "No. Lily has been all over the house looking for it. It's. Not. Here." Irritation was embedded in his tone when he added, "She needs to get over it."

Incensed by the underlying meaning of his words, her eyebrows slammed down, and it took all of her self-control to hold in the no problem.

"How much is it worth?" Augustus asked.

She did a quick appraisal of the invented jewelry. It had to be expensive enough to be worth the effort of barging into the house uninvited, but not so ridiculous a sum that it couldn't be purchased with her meager salary. "Five hundred dollars," she said tersely, watching as the man pulled a gold monogrammed money clip from his trouser pocket.

He flicked his fingers across the bills and handed her five crisp Benjamins. "Now you can stay away, correct?"

"My pleasure." She was being paid off, just like a common prostitute. She folded the money, and in a moment of cockiness, pulled the collar of her T-shirt forward to slide it inside her bra as if she were one.

"Gentlemen," she drew out with a sarcastic lilt before turning to leave.

Bruce, still on hand by the door, led the way as Mark's voice echoed behind her saying, "I'll be right in after I make sure she's gone." The door shut with a hard thud.

She walked the short distance to her car, passing Bruce before turning to confront them both. Mark spoke first, his anger obvious but kept under control by the need to keep the volume down.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Dominique tells me you financed the cameras being installed in my gym."

"That's right. It made perfect sense. We already have all the equipment needed in the gatehouse."

Virginia looked to Bruce with the sudden realization that he was the one who would be watching her. As he pumped his eyebrows, a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Her glare whipped back to Mark. "Take them out."

"You will have to talk to Dominique about that. It was his idea. I can charge you a security fee if that makes you feel better," he said dryly.

"That vigilante group he has organized is causing a lot of problems out there. It's just a matter of time before he gets into serious trouble." She was throwing it all out there, a last ditch effort to get some admission of guilt from him, or at least a reaction on those blank features.

Mark stepped closer, forcing her head upward in order to meet his eyes. "Dominique is a grown man. You need to stop treating him like your lapdog and let him make his own decisions."

"How dare—"

The door of the house opened and Gerry stepped out. She had to admire his aggressive stance. He looked like he was about to take on both Mark and Bruce in her defense if the situation warranted it. A definite suicide mission, but that didn't seem to be deterring him.

Maybe he would be able to handle himself in this job after all.

"Lieutenant? You okay out here?" he asked, scowling at the two men.

"I'm fine, Gerry. Go back inside. Say hello to your mother for me."

He stood a moment longer, silently judging her safety for himself.

"Gerry, you call me if they ever ask you to do something you're uncomfortable with," she added.

With a nod Gerry did as she had asked, but from the look on his face she knew he wasn't moving far from the door until she left the vicinity.

Her eyes shot daggers at Mark. "Just stay away from us . . . and stop following me."

A noise that sounded like air being let out of a balloon passed Bruce's lips before he muttered, "Who said we were following you."

As Mark threw him a shut-up look, Virginia did the one-plus-one in her head. "Gus? . . . You're watching Gus? Why would—"

Mark's voice was as hard as his glare. "Stay the fuck away from him. If we've figured out what you're up to, it's just a matter of time before he does."

His tone killed her curiosity, her spine stiffening so fast she thought it might snap. Wheeling around, she practically jumped into her car and slammed the door shut behind her. Rage threw off her coordination, and it took two tries with the gear shifter to shove it into first. Turning the wheel, she stomped on the gas, hoping for some dirt and debris on the driveway, something to give both of them a decent exfoliation.

But for all the showy takeoff, a grandiose exit was not to be had, held up by the closed gate with no guard in sight.

END OF CHAPTER TWO

So she comes face-to-face with Augustus. He's probably not the kind of person you want to annoy. What do you think about the cameras? She seems a little miffed about it. What would you do in her shoes?