Protect Her

Chapter Three

Derek

"Mr. Bennett?" Janelle peaked her head into my office. "Do you have a minute?"

I glanced down at my watch and let out a heavy sigh. No, I didn't have a minute. I didn't have a single second to spare. I was already running late for my niece's birthday and if I wasn't there before they served cake and sang to her, my mother would have my head. "Sure, Janelle. What is it?"

"I need you to sign off on these accounts before tomorrow." She smiled nervously, handing me a stack of five files. Janelle was my new assistant, while my regular one was out on maternity leave, and she was still learning the ropes around here. While I appreciated the help, I'd had to go back and correct several mistakes she'd made in the last week and at this point, I was thinking I was better off on my own.

"Thank you." I took them from her, quickly glancing through. Each one was a potential vendor for the new hotel we were opening in a few months, and the final design decisions had to be made. This wasn't exactly something that could be done in a minute, and I couldn't stand to be another second later.

"You know what, Janelle? I haven't made a final decision. I'll bring these home with me and have them on your desk first thing in the morning." I stood up, stuffing them into my bag.

Working at home was typical for me lately, although I didn't mind. It took a lot of work to balance a double life like I was. By day, I ran a wildly successful investment company, and by night—well, that was a little harder to define.

From the time I was little, my father was always helping other people. It didn't matter if the person needed a tire fixed or a warm shower and safe place to stay, everyone in town knew my dad was the guy to go to. It was a value he'd drilled into my brother and me from a young age, and one we both carried into adulthood.

Cole took the sensible route. The stable job, beautiful wife, perfect family. He was an ER doctor for Christ's Sake—it was his literal job to save people. I, on the other hand, had a little different approach.

There was nothing in the world that bothered me as much as good people getting taken advantage of, and fighting for the underdogs sort of became my thing. As a contracted enforcer for a faction of the Italian Mafia, I made sure that people got what they deserved in every sense of the word.

The good. The bad. The ugly.

I guess I was more of an all around problem solver for the group. My work wasn't just to rough people up and get what I needed. If someone needed to disappear? Money moved? Be framed for something? I was the guy. I'd taken the job from my father when he retired after training under him for years, and it was literally in my blood now. I wasn't threaded into the mafia myself, but I'd proven myself enough that they treated me like family regardless. My reputation preceded me so well now that just the mention of my involvement straightened just about any situation out, and I got to cherry pick the cases I was involved in. I didn't just shake people down for the fun of it–every person I went after was the lowest of the low... greedy loan sharks, violent pimps, deadbeat baby daddies... I'd seen my fair share of scumbags.

I had a team I worked with, and most of the time I didn't have to get my hands dirty myself, but I provided the means to make this work. Only the special cases did I handle directly. As the head of a multi-billion dollar company, I had connections and wealth that most of my clients couldn't even fathom, and if I wasn't sharing those with the less fortunate, none of it was worthwhile.

"No problem." She smiled. "Goodnight Mr. Bennett."

"Goodnight." I gave her a disinterested wave as she left my office. She wouldn't last too long around here.