Page 7 of Married to the Mafia Monster

She beams. “You making me a promise?”

He spins to fix his gaze on me, tapping the business card in my palm. “Call me if you ever want to prove you’re not a coward.”

He walks away without another word.

THREE

Alex

The suite is silent except for the low hum of the air conditioner. I sit at the desk, cleaning the Glock 17 without making a sound.

Some dust got in the case on the way here and I’m not the kind of man to leave anything to chance. It all needs to be perfect. Last thing I need is a gun misfiring at a crucial moment.

To my left, a computer screen shows me a live feed of Bella’s bedroom.

She shouldn’t know I exist. I should be a ghost, invisible. But I’ve not only met her, I’ve given her my name and my fucking business card.

Just because her tits looked good? What the fuck am I doing?

I clean my guns and bring my focus back to where it belongs, putting the confusion behind me. She’s my target. Nothing more. I slip the clip back into place, relaxing a little more. Guns, that’s what I know. Not women. Violence, death, that’s my trade, not innocent little girls getting mixed up in things they know nothing about.

My phone vibrates, breaking the stillness. I glance at the screen—Ricardo Rossi. I answer it, my voice steady. “Boss.”

“Progress report?” His voice is all business.

“Fed the cameras through the air vents. Got a clear view, good sound.”

“Room above hers was available no trouble?”

“I paid the guests to vacate.”

“Anyone suspect anything?”

“Nope.”

“She said where it is yet?” His question is sharp, impatient.

“Nope.”

“Has she spoken to anyone? Given you any clues at all? The clock’s ticking on this, remember?”

“I’m working on it.”

“Does she at least know where he is? If we could get our hands on that son of a bitch, we could resolve this in minutes.”

“If she knows, I’ll get the intel from her. Got her eating out of my hand already. She’s got my number. I’m playing the horny businessman. Waiting for her to call.”

“We’ve only got two weeks. We haven’t got time for you to spend fucking the intel out of her. Russo’s hunting right now, eyes everywhere.”

“Vince Russo couldn’t find his cock with his hand on the fucking thing.”

“You better be right. If he gets to it first, we’re all fucked.”

“I know that,” I say, my jaw tightening.

“Just get it done,” Ricardo orders. “You know what’s riding on this.”

“I’d work faster if I wasn’t yakking with you on the phone.” I hang up.

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