Page 74 of Devil's Deal

Her use of the word fellas immediately made me think of Cory, and my anger rose. I’d known in my gut that this PI was a fraud—taking advantage of my boy. Stealing his money and giving him false hope. What if I hadn’t come along? How long would Cory have continued to pay his exorbitant prices, fooling himself into believing that Paul, the PI, was really searching for Emilio?

“She’s right,” Rocco said in a low voice as soon as we were back in the privacy of our ride. “The place is cleaned out. Not even a spare receipt on the floor.”

“Dammit.” Pulling out my phone, I called Tracker and put the phone to my ear.

“I was about to call you,” was how he greeted me. “I found him.”

“Paul?”

“Paul who? Oh, the PI? Forget him. I found the kid.”

The world stilled around me. “Explain.”

“Well, shit,” I muttered when he was done.

“Mhm. Those Pasinis are some bad dudes all the way around. A look at their bank accounts makes it clear who knows what, too.”

“And you’re sure it’s this Machesi? Frederic was sure he was clean.”

He huffed. “I got pictures of the kid out in the backyard getting some fresh air. I’ve been watching for a couple of days. I didn’t want to get your hopes up for no reason. This is the place.”

I didn’t know how he did what he did, and I didn’t much care. Tracker got me results. “Alright, let me make some calls.”

“You got it. I’ll forward you the email, along with the other information I have. Let me know when it’s a go, and I’ll make sure you have access to the house they’re holding him in.”

I hung up and turned to Rocco. “Well?” he demanded.

“You up for a rescue mission?”

He rubbed his hands together. “Do I get to shoot people?”

“You bet your ass.”

Of all thethings I ever expected to argue with Cory about, this wasn’t one of them. He crossed his arms over his chest, jutting his chin up stubbornly. “Daddy, I’m going. He’s my nephew.”

“Boy, don’t you understand?” I asked, twining our fingers together.

“Yeah, I get it, but I’m going. What if he’s hurt? Scared? He doesn’t know any of you.”

“I mean, he does know his father, right?” Dante asked from the table.

Cory growled in frustration. “You”—he jabbed me in the chest with one finger—“wouldn’t have even been looking into this if it wasn’t for me. He’s my nephew, and I’m going.”

“We do have a balaclava he can wear,” Dante added, unhelpfully. I was gonna kick his ass when this was over.

“What’s that?” Cory asked.

Throwing up my hands, I said, “This proves my whole point. You don’t belong anywhere near this.”

“It’s the gangster ski mask,” Dante whispered.

Cory looked intrigued, and I headed for the bathroom before I lost my shit. This was a complete disaster. This wasn’t how I did things. I was a planner…meticulous. I didn’t get information and run with it the same day. Yeah, I knew it had to be this way this time. Now that Tracker had hunted down Emilio, Cory would’ve lost his mind if we waited.

But it wasn’t just that. It was how fast Rocco took off for home to get his favorite gun. It was Frederic heading straight to the property without backup to wait for us. It was how agitated I was that Dante wouldn’t be at the hotel tonight, keeping an eye on Harlow and Charity. Which was ridiculous when I hadn’t wanted him stationed here in the first place. Most of all, it was Cory being unreasonable and insisting that he was coming.

My phone buzzed with a text.

Nico:Have fun tonight. It sucks that I can’t make it to the party, but I know that you and my brother will have fun. Make sure he doesn’t drink too much.

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