Page 22 of Mafia King's Forbidden Obsession

Briefly, I take a moment to myself before bringing the phone to my palm.

Harper. Raven’s phone doesn’t stop vibrating in my hands as I swipe and see the same name in red again. In her call log,Harper’s name is before every single missed call. Swiping across the screen tomessages,I start to scroll through. This Harper seems to be relentless as her name pops up in every message notification.

This phone has been in my custody since she was abducted. But today is the first time that I intrude for reasons other than gaining tangible information.

Perhaps it’ll allow me to forget what I didn’t want to recall.

Hope you’re safe. I found this hot dude, and we’re having drinks, which might eventually end in sex. I hope he’s good in bed. xoxo

I don’t know why you didn’t come back to me last night. Did you fuck anyone?

I raise a brow at this. Then I recall she’d said her best friend forced her to attend the event.

Girl, where are you?

Raven, where the hell are you? You're not home.So the stranger’s wood was so huge that you eloped?

There’s a banana emoji followed by a water emoji in front ofwood.It doesn’t take long to realize it means dick. I briefly wonder why she couldn’t have just called it for what it is.

You’re not at work? Girl, what’s going on, you never miss work.

Diligent in her doings...

If you don’t text me back, I’m going to the cops.

Raven, I’m scared. I’m at the police station and there’s a delay. Somehow I can’t talk to any officer but I will soon.

Raven please just text me. The cops say they’ll put the word out that you’re missing.

There are other messages ranting about how she’s not getting much attention from the cops. I minimize the page.

With a groan, I silence the notifications and toss the device into the drawer. Quickly, I dig into the pile of paperwork before me.

There are contracts, reports, ledgers. After a few seconds, I find the one I’ve been filling— a ledger. As soon as I pick up my pen, a knock lands on my door. It’s Elio.

“Boss.” He acknowledges me with a curt bow. I don’t miss how his eyes move to the white, translucent drug container. From the slight expression that crosses his eyes, I know he’s thinking the same thing as me. It’s been years, a ruthless mafia don like me should have gotten over it.

“Elio.” I clear my throat before slapping the container into an open drawer. He’s holding a stack of papers. They’re most likely more papers for me.

“It’s another solid month,” he informs sharply, all traces of emotion gone from his eyes. I drop my pen and lean back in my chair.

The ache in my head has now dulled, the pain in my chest vanishing alongside it. “Let’s have it.”

“The hotel and restaurants are on track as usual. The new rooftop bar we’ve been renovating is ready to be opened,” he starts, dropping the papers on my desk. “The clubs and casinos are still raking in positive numbers. In fact, this month’s are way over what we predicted.”

I give a nod of approval. That’s what I like to hear. Strategies manifesting into realities. The cover-up businesses are a legitimate front for the cartel. And as long as we keep our people in the police department on our payroll, we face no opposition from them.

“As for drugs, cocaine and meth seem to be in high demand. I’m looking into our manufacturing partners to see if they can get us at least double the quota for next month.”

“Mexico or Afghanistan?” I have producers in both countries. My operations span overseas as well as here in the States.

“Both.” A smirk tilts my lips.

Elio is a fucking business-minded man. “Approved.”

The sounds of papers ruffling fills the room as his eyes scan the papers.

“Also,” he starts. “Your appearance at the hospital fundraising event had a positive impact. People have been talking about it, so even if news about the image of Russo at the club is released, it may not do much damage.”

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