Page 16 of Mafia King's Forbidden Obsession

After scanning the shipment, Elio found out nothing was missing. Not a single gram of meth. Which brings me to one thing.

Russo has an agenda. A reasonable drug dealer doesn’t intercept a shipment and not steal anything. He doesn't just vanish after causing chaos.

The mole, too, hasn’t been found. Elio and I have been keeping a close eye on all the men who had tangible information on the shipment. There’s no suspicious activity. Everyone seems to be acting as usual.

But I know it won’t be for long. Once I get hold of the bastard, he’ll die by my wrath.

Trust is a sacred concept in this mafia. Trust and not taking the lives of innocents. Innocents like Raven.

After digging into her life, I realized she is exactly who she says she is. A twenty-six-year-old medical resident, just starting out in her career. One best friend, a late mother, and an absent father. She has no connections to my world, no ties to Russo or any cartel.

We’d found that she was mundane after Elio went through her phone. But spies are becoming increasingly creative. We needed to fact-check.

Michael, the head police officer, also swears that she’s a diligent lady. Michael is on my payroll and the reason the police won’tever declare her missing. And thanks to my influence, she has a leave of absence at her hospital. An emergency she needed to attend to has come up. It was easy enough.

But that does not change the fact that now she knows too much. The logical move would be to get rid of her. It’s what anyone in my position would do.

But every time I think about it, something stops me. Killing her feels… wrong. Which puts me in an impossible situation. I can’t let her walk away, not now. But I can’t kill her either.

Fuck.

I should’ve known all along. A part of me had always been in doubt about her involvement in this. It just didn’t make sense, but it was a matter of principle. Any names mentioned should be thoroughly investigated… by any means.

She did not look like the type to plan something so calculated. Her mouth—though sexy, was careless, always speaking before she thought. Definitely no trait of an informant.

Plus, if she knew something, she’d have said something...meaningful. She’d thought I went through all this trouble because of oils.Oils. As if the weight of what I dealt in could ever be reduced to something so simple.

Granted, Raven was now vindicated. But why had her name come up as the informant? That question haunts me. Whoever is behind this had known about her—known about us. Someoneclose enough to be aware that I’d spent one night with her. They used that against me—distracted me from the actual mole.

They’d been watching me, tracking every step, waiting for the right moment to strike. So calculated.

Whoever set this up knows how to play me, knows how to make me question the wrong things. And for a second, I’d fallen for it.

Perhaps a rival family? The last real conflict I’d had with the American cartel was years ago. But that doesn’t mean they are out of the picture.

My hand clenches around the marker in my grip as memories rush back. Memories I’ve spent years burying deep.

Fifteen years ago. That’s when everything changed for me. That’s when I lost more than just a fight. I lost a piece of myself. After that, nothing has ever been the same.

I glance down at my hand and realize I’ve snapped the marker clean in half.

The Americans.

I haven’t had any dealings with them since the incident. They’re Marino’s archnemesis, but it doesn’t make sense for them to strike now. For what? Messing with me will lead to a bloodbath, one I don’t think they’re ready for.

I release a breath before tossing the broken marker onto the desk. I need an update. I need to lay all my cards on the table.

Quickly, I dial Elio, “My office.Ora(Now).”

A knock on the door soon pulls me from my thoughts. The heavy wooden doors block out most of the noise, but I can still hear the faint hum of jazz from the club.

“Enter,” I respond.

With long, curt strides, Elio steps in, his expression as steady as always. If anyone could help me get through this mess, it’s him. It’s always him.

“Boss,” he greets, nodding, before his gaze flits to the board on my desk. “You called?”

I motion for him to sit, though I stay on my feet.

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