Fidelity (Infidelity #5)

After making my way to the office, I turned the knob slowly, unsure what came next.

My education had paved the way for my knowledge of Demetri Enterprises. It was the foundation. The rest was experience. Though we rarely saw eye to eye, following my recovery after my last MMA fight—the one against Luca—I started spending my time at the corporate offices.

Oren thought it would be a better use of my time than the octagon.

Being the son of the CEO I expected a nice office with a view. That’s what I have today. It wasn’t what I found when I first started. It might as well have been the mailroom. I was taking classes at NYU. When I wasn’t there, my first job had been in the accounting department. They didn’t give me important tasks. It was menial and mind-numbing. Through the years I moved from department to department, not as an officer of the company but as an employee.

I hated some of the work. I hated Oren for not recognizing my ability and potential. I hated that he reminded me over and over that the Demetri on the letterhead was his name.

Today I had the perspective to see that my experiences gave me the ability to take over when he moved away. They not only helped me, but the core officials of Demetri knew me and were willing to continue working for the son, the one who’d done more than been born into his position.

During those early years, I could have asked for Oren’s advice. I could have talked to him about the tedious tasks that really weren’t truly menial. He could have explained his reasoning. There were so many things we could have done. We never did.

That all contributed to the uneasiness of asking for his advice now.

“Oren,” I said, entering the office.

His embrace as he stood lingered. He knew what was coming—what my debt to repay the favor of Fitzgerald’s death would entail.

I didn’t.

“He’s gone,” I said, speaking of Fitzgerald as I sat in the chair opposite him, no longer obsessed with who was on which side of the desk.

Oren leaned back. In his gaze was a resolution and sadness that ate at my gut.

Finally, I asked, “What happens now?”

Oren leaned forward. “How I wish you’d have asked that before.”

Before I asked Vincent for the favor. He didn’t need to say the last part.

Everything was different now.

It had been one thing to promise service and repayment when it was Charli that I was protecting. But now, with the baby on the way, I didn’t know what I’d promised. I didn’t know the time commitment or the duties. Instead of my confident self, I was that twenty-year-old working in accounting, crunching numbers that never seemed to end. The uncertainty terrified me. How would it affect Charli and our baby?

“It’s too late for that,” I said, trying to appear confident, maybe even knowledgeable.

“First,” Oren said, “we go to him, thank him for the service. I can call.”

“No. I’ll call. Give me his number.” I looked out the window. “What about his men?”

“A few more days.”

“Why? I have security. We don’t need them. Besides, Spencer is locked away in a prison hospital and Fitzgerald is…”

“He’s dead, Lennox. I never wanted to say this to you, but get used to the term.”

My stomach twisted. “How did you do it? I mean, being married and running Demetri, building the company, and having a kid, and this—debts and obligations to the Costellos? How did you do it?”

“I believe you were the one who said I failed at a few of those roles.”

Fuck!

My eyes blinked, lingering shut before opening. “Can it be done?”

“Son, I’m proud of you. I’m proud of the qualities I see in you. You’re a hard worker. You’re tenacious and determined. You’re stubborn and resolute in your beliefs. You love with your mother’s heart. Vincent is a fair man and so is Luca. I don’t know what they’ll ask or even when. It may be tonight or not for ten years. But above all they’re family. Your blood. They’ll take care of you.”

“You’ve never told me specifics of things you’ve done, things that were required of you.”

“And I never will,” he said. “I’ve done my best to keep you out of it. Angelina did too. But I’ve come to understand that the best intentions aren’t enough. Despite what you may be thinking or worried about, the Costellos are your family. They also run legitimate enterprises. They provide needed services. They’re respected. That’s what you need to give to them. That’s worth more than money and time. That’s what Vincent saw in you the other day. Respect.”

“His phone number?”





“MOMMA? HOW ARE you?” I asked after Silvia stepped away.

Her chest rose and fell. “I’m alive.”

“Are you in pain?”

“Some, but it’s getting better.”

I rested my hand on her blanket-covered legs. “Can you take anything?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No. I’m an addict.”

“No, you aren’t. They did that to you.”