The Banker Read online

  She pinched the bread between her fingertips and smeared it with more oil.

  I watched the color in her cheeks move to her neck. I watched the way she lost her confidence, like she was actually afraid of me. “I’m a scary man, baby. The scariest man in this country. But as long as you don’t betray me, you have nothing to fear. I’m a criminal, but I don’t harm the innocent. They stick to their world, and I stick to mine.” I had the power to make anything happen, to commit murder in broad daylight, and the police wouldn’t touch me. Reporters would cover it up to protect their friends and family. The entire world turned the other cheek—since I let them be.

  “You just told me you torture people. I think fear is a rational response.”

  “I torture liars, thieves, and assholes. Are you a liar, thief, or asshole?”

  She popped the bread into her mouth and chewed slowly.

  “I didn’t think so.” I drank the red wine before I set the glass down again.

  Siena was quiet now, her interrogation barely surviving a single question.

  “You have a lovely home. I apologize for not mentioning it before.” I’d been too busy fucking her on the kitchen table and the bed to make small talk.

  “Thank you. I love it there.” She abandoned the rest of her bread on the plate, having her fill from a single bite. “I know it’s a bit small, but I think it’s the perfect size. As long as I don’t have more than two kids, it should work.”

  She spoke of a family like it was the only thing in life she really wanted. She didn’t discuss other ambitions, like starting her own company or pursuing hobbies. She just wanted a family to live in that cozy house.

  “What?” she asked, addressing the quizzical expression that must have been on my face.

  “Nothing.”

  “You had this look in your eyes, like you were confused by what I said.”

  “I guess I’m just intrigued by the certainty in your voice, like having a family is the only thing you want.”

  “It’s not the only thing I want. But it’s one of the things I want most.”

  I’d thought she was different from all the other women I met. Maybe she wasn’t.

  She cocked her head slightly, picking up on my tone. “Let me guess. You’re one of those men who never wants to get married.”

  “And you’re one of those women who has to get married.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t have to get married. If it never happens, it never happens. But I want to meet the love of my life, fall madly in love, and sleep beside him for the rest of my life. If that makes me sound boring, I don’t care. If that makes me sound unoriginal, so be it. Marriage to the wrong man sounds terrifying. It could be a trap with no escape, a commitment to misery. I never want to be married for the sake of being married. There would be no point when a man can’t offer me something I can’t offer myself. But a marriage to the right man…sounds like the greatest experience.” She wrapped her fingers around the stem of her glass and brought her wine closer to her. “Think less of me for it. I don’t care. Just as I don’t think less of you for wanting to be a bachelor forever.”

  “You don’t think less of me?” I asked, a note of surprise in my voice. “You aren’t going to tell me all of that will change when I meet the right woman?”

  She chuckled and shook her head. “Everyone is different. Not all of us are meant to spend our lives with one person. We’re wired differently. And the second we start making people feel strange for being different, we’re in the wrong. So if you want to be alone for the rest of your life, Cato, then be alone. If you don’t want a family, don’t have one.” She sipped her wine then licked her lips.

  My mother always told me how she wanted Bates and me to marry. She said even if she’d known my father would run out on her, she would do it all again in a heartbeat. Having all the money in the world didn’t compare to sharing her heart with the two of us. She said I would never understand until I had children of my own. “Bates and I made a pact never to get married.”

  “Married to each other?” she teased. “Good. I don’t have a problem with two men, but I have a problem with two brothers.”

  The corner of my mouth rose in a smile. Now that we’d stopped discussing murder, she relaxed. She turned into her flirtatious and playful self. “In our world, we can’t trust anyone but each other. A bad marriage could affect the business. It could destroy our lives. Neither one of us wants kids, so marriage is unnecessary.”

  “So, let me get this straight.” She grabbed the bottle and refilled her glass. “Marriage is off the table because of money?” She pushed the half-empty bottle back to the center of the table next to the candle. “Money has dictated your lives so greatly that you can’t enjoy anything else? That you can’t even share it with someone?” She spoke with emotion but not judgment. “I stand by what I said. Money is the root of all evil. Money destroys lives. It’s the monster that swallows happiness whole. There’re so many beautiful things in life that are financially intangible.”

  “Only poor people say that.” It was an asshole comment to make, but it was the first thing that tumbled out of my mouth. I would never forget how cold it used to be on winter nights without the heater. I would never forget how raw my mother’s hands were from working in the cannery twelve hours a day. Money had saved my family—not destroyed it.

  She didn’t show offense. “Wealth is supposed to give you advantages in life. But from what you’re describing, it sounds like it’s inhibiting you. You can’t go anywhere without thirty armed men protecting you. You can’t trust a woman to love you for you. Men all over the world are trying to infiltrate your ranks to trick you. You’re a prisoner—the walls of your cell, your own cash. I admire everything you’ve accomplished, but above all else, I pity you.” Her pretty green eyes bored into mine, and instead of harsh judgment, there really was pity.

  No one had ever given me a look like that before. Women admired me. Men wanted to be me. My mother’s eyes beamed with such pride that it usually turned to tears. Everyone thought I had the world by a string—because I did. But not a single person spotted the loneliness, the emptiness, and the boredom.

  No one had ever noticed what I hadn’t noticed myself.

  Speechless, I held her gaze, thinking about those afternoons I smoked my cigar while hardly moving, reflecting on the moments I told my brother I was bored. He questioned my sanity. How could someone with so much power and wealth be bored? It was a question that didn’t have an answer. I never regretted everything I had or the sacrifices I made to achieve it, but it did seem like something was missing.

  She didn’t display a victorious look in her eyes. She continued to stare at me like the conversation was continuing, just without words.

  I forgot about my wine and everything else in the room around us. I was spending the evening with a beautiful woman, but my mind wasn’t on sex. It was the deepest conversation I’d ever had with another human being. Her intellect was dangerous, and her courage was even more startling. She was the only person in the world who didn’t care about the size of my wallet. Unintimidated, she treated me like I was anyone else. “We were very poor growing up. The kind of poor where going to the doctor was a luxury. My mother did hard labor to support us, shaving off years of her life so we could have food, clothes, and someplace safe to sleep. Ever since I could remember, I wanted to be rich. I never wanted to worry about my next meal, and I didn’t want my mother to have to put up with bullshit from other people. My ambition caught fire and never extinguished. Maybe money is evil, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Her knowing look slowly faded and was replaced by an emotional gleam. “That’s inspiring.”

  “The worst part of being poor is being powerless. You’re at the mercy of other people. People are far more evil than money, and they’ll take advantage of you when you’re down. By holding all the money, I have all the power. Maybe I sleep with one eye open, but I also control everything around me.”


  “It seems to me you’re in the same situation as before, just in reverse. You have to work hard to maintain your stature because everyone wants to take it from you. There’s a middle ground you’re overlooking. You can be wealthy and secure, but also disappear from the public eye. You can have everything you need—without looking over your shoulder all the time.”

  The only reason I was patient with her was because I knew her background. Money had obviously destroyed her family. Her father kept playing with fire until someone hit him where it hurt—by killing his wife. Siena had the wisdom to turn her back on that lifestyle and settle for peace. To her, there was no other option. “It’s more complicated than that.”

  “Is it?” The glow from the candles illuminated her features in the most beautiful way. Her emerald eyes reflected the white light, making them shine like Christmas ornaments in front of a fireplace. “Let me ask you one question. And you don’t have to give me an answer.”

  Regardless of what her question was, I wouldn’t give her an answer.

  She tilted her head slightly. “Are you happy, Cato?”

  The definition of happiness was lost on me. My money made me feel secure. My power made me feel invincible. The women in my bed made me feel like a king. But happy…I wasn’t sure if I’d ever felt that before. The only thing close was seeing my mother comfortable and safe. Sometimes when I stopped by the house, I saw her tending to her garden, wearing a floppy sun hat as she got her hands dirty in the soil. She was at ease, reading by the window in the morning and then making me lemonade when I stopped by for a visit. Giving her a life she deserved was the only thing that ever made me feel anything. Everything else was just momentary highs. Making money was exhilarating, but after a few hours, the effect wore off. Making two women come before I finished ballooned my ego, but once the fun was over and we lay in bed, I was back to my calm coldness.

  The answer was right in front of me.

  No. I wasn’t happy.

  We got into the back seat of my car.

  “To the residence.” I hit the button and raised the shade between the driver and us. The summer sun had set, and Milan was illuminated with the brilliant lights from the historic buildings and churches. We could return to my plane and be home in an hour, but I wasn’t in the mood to finish the journey.

  Siena turned to me, her legs crossed and her safety belt across her chest. “Where are we going?”

  “To my place.” I wasn’t going to ask if that was okay with her. Her preferences didn’t matter.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me first?”

  I stared out the window. “No.”

  She continued to stare at my side profile. “That’s rude.”

  “You work for me, remember?”

  “Yes, I work for you. But I’m not being paid to fuck you.”

  I turned my face to her, noting the way she looked stunning regardless of the lighting. “After sitting across from you at dinner all night, the last thing I want to do is wait another hour and a half before I can get you on your back. I want to taste that red wine on your tongue. I want to remember how sweet your cunt tastes. I want to be balls deep inside you, fucking the woman who’s teased me all night with her beauty. Maybe I’m impatient, but I have every right to be impatient. Do you have a problem with that?”

  Her hostility faded away as desire entered her gaze. The cues she gave were always subtle because she didn’t wear her feelings on her sleeve. She was too proud to be obvious, too respectable to be deciphered. But there were hints of her emotions in the subtle movements she made, the slight shift of her eyes when she tried to hide something.

  When I didn’t get an answer, I forced her to give me one. “Do you?”

  She cleared her throat. “No. I don’t have a problem with that.”

  I owned a five-story building in Milan. After I’d bought it, the inside had been remodeled into a three-story home. The bottom two floors housed my security and weapons. We walked inside and took the elevator to the third floor.

  Siena looked around as we stepped into the large living room. With hardwood floors, couches as soft as pillows, and a beautiful floor-to-ceiling window that showed the city, it was cozy like my place in Florence. I had many homes in different cities, and that was because it was the only way to truly guarantee my safety. All my homes were bulletproof. All of them were full of a security detail. My private property was the only way to control the situation. Going to a hotel or a public place made me vulnerable to an attack.

  Besides, my homes were more luxurious than any hotel.

  Siena slipped off her heels right away and left them in the middle of the floor. Now she was several inches shorter, but her confidence still projected her at an impressive height.

  I headed to the bar. “Would you like a drink?”

  “No.”

  I turned back around and ignored the scotch calling my name. If she wanted to get right down to business, so did I. I walked over to her and saw the color rise in her cheeks. Her breathing had picked up, the intensity of our privacy rattling her. She faced me with the same confidence, but there was a hint of intensity that couldn’t be denied. She’d already slept with me, but it seemed like this was the first time again.

  I pulled the paper out of my wallet and handed it to her.

  She unfolded it and read through the results. Apparently, my word wasn’t good enough. She checked the name of the laboratory as well as the date before she handed it back. “I didn’t know we were going to do this now. I didn’t bring mine…”

  “Your word is good enough.” I didn’t trust anyone. Any interaction I had with someone besides my brother was considered suspicious. Bates was the only person I could trust implicitly. But something about this woman made me step out of my comfort zone, made me take a chance I never would have taken with anyone else. All of this could be a stunt, but I didn’t believe it was. This woman seemed to be real, seemed to be scarred by wealth and power. She wanted nothing to do with my money or connections. All she wanted was a job—and a good lay.

  “You’ve never asked me about birth control.”

  I grabbed her wrist and turned her arm, revealing the slight scar on the inside of her upper arm. She had an implant inserted there some time ago. It had healed, but she would have those marks for the rest of her life. Other types of birth control were impossible to detect, unless I saw a woman take a pill every day. But this was obvious. I released her arm then moved to the back of her dress. My fingers found the zipper at the nape of her neck, and I slowly pulled it down, revealing the gorgeous skin along her spine. She was so thin I could see the small bones jut out underneath the skin. Her slender muscles shifted slightly as she breathed, and the most beautiful bumps emerged over her beautiful skin.

  The zipper stopped at the top of her ass, and that’s when the dress came free. It fell to the floor at her feet, leaving her in a black thong that contrasted against the fair skin of her gorgeous ass.

  Something I’d noticed before but never paid attention to was the scar on her right shoulder. I’d pulled the trigger enough times to recognize exactly what it was—a bullet wound. She’d been shot—and the bullet passed clean through. It’d been stitched up and healed nicely, but the distinct scar was impossible to miss. The injury told a story, a story she hadn’t confided in me. My curiosity wanted answers, and I imagined she’d received this wound years ago when she was on speaking terms with her father. Perhaps her mother had been murdered and Siena was the next victim on the list—but she escaped.

  I hooked my hands under her arms and squeezed her perky tits as I pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. My crotch pressed right against her ass, and my cock pushed against the fly of my jeans. My lips cherished her neck and kissed the shell of her ear. My hands continued to grope her beautiful tits, feeling the nipples harden under my ministrations. Her breathing picked up, and so did mine. “I can’t wait to fuck you.” I’d never been with a woman without a condom. I’d never felt bare pussy before. Even whe
n I lost my virginity, it was with a rubber. But now I was about to feel this beautiful woman so intimately. She already felt amazing with a condom. She would feel even better when it was just the two of us.

  She reached her fingers down to her panties, and she pushed them over her ass and to her thighs. They fell the rest of the way and landed around her ankles.

  I kissed her left shoulder and sank my teeth into the skin gently. My tongue caressed her, and my breathing filled the space around us. My cock was anxious to be free of the restraints of my jeans, and I was eager to deliver my come deep inside that pretty little cunt.

  She turned around, heat in her eyes and desperation in her hands. She pulled my shirt over my head then unfastened my jeans. Her eyes took in my physical perfection, her fingertips feeling the grooves between the muscles and the hardness of my chest. Every time she looked at me when I was naked, she wore that same look, turning into a sex heathen who couldn’t wait to enjoy me. All women looked at me like that, but it seemed like she really meant it.

  She pushed my jeans down with my boxers, sinking to her knees in the process. Her lips found my length, and she kissed him with full desire, worshiping my dick like it was God’s gift to women. She sucked my balls into her mouth then dragged her tongue up my length before she took him deep into her throat. She closed her eyes and moaned, as if sucking my dick was nothing but a pleasure.

  No woman had ever sucked my dick so well.

  She moved back to her feet, carefully sliding my dick through her sexy cleavage on the way up. She used my forearms for balance, relying on my strength as an anchor to move back to a standing position.

  I could lift her into my arms and carry her into a bedroom, but my hand swept deep into her hair and I tilted her chin back so I could kiss her. It was a slow kiss, full of warm breaths and gentle tugs with our lips. My eyes studied her mouth as my fingers fisted her hair hard. I yanked her into me and kissed her again, my tongue greeting hers sensually. I could be fucking her right now, but this arousing kiss seemed to be enough. For once, I wasn’t in a hurry to fuck. I wasn’t in a rush to hit the finish line. All I wanted was this, this sense that time was standing still.