Page 22 of Mafia Handbook

Chapter Nine

Milena woke with a start, glancing around the foreign room through confused eyes. Sitting up in the bed, she ran her fingers through her long tresses as the events from the previous night flashed through her mind. She recalled how the woman, who she’d assumed was Bash’s girlfriend, narrowed her eyes in hatred as she climbed into the car Milena parked beside. Shifting her focus to a still sleeping Oakley beside her, Milena smiled as she remembered how effortlessly Bash tossed her sister’s body over his shoulder as if she weighed no more than a dish towel, and how he commented on how Oakley reeked of the smell of alcohol.

Slipping from the bed, Milena pulled on her jeans, and headed down the hall toward the smell of brewing coffee. She needed to find Bash, thank him profusely, and then offer to do damage control with the girlfriend. As she tiptoed down the hall, Milena could make out two male voices, the first was definitely Bash’s, but the second seemed distorted, almost robotic. Not wanting to appear as if she was eavesdropping, Milena faked a cough as she rounded the corner into what she remembered to be the living room.

“Morning, beautiful,” she heard Bash call from her right. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Black?”

“That’s one option.” Shaking his head, Bash rose from his seat at the bar, shutting the lid of his laptop. “I have other things if you don’t like coffee.”

Approaching the island with caution, Milena couldn’t get over how impressive Bash’s kitchen appeared. Bowls of food and fresh herbs rested on one end, while a pitcher of what looked to be orange juice sat beside a juicer and a stack of oranges.

“I’m one of those people who like a little coffee with their cream and sugar.”

“Desert it is then.” Nodding to the empty chairs along the end of the island, Bash reached into the fridge, and grabbed a carton of cream. “I have juice as well, if you’d like some.”

“If you point me in the direction of your glasses,” Milena began, but quickly retreated as Bash shot her a raised eyebrow. “Sorry.”

Filling a glass with juice, Bash gently sat the container on the bar, sliding it in front of Milena.

Leaning against the counter, Bash watched as Milena raised the glass to her lips, letting out a moan as she took a healthy drink. “I have good news and bad news for you this morning.”

Milena savored the freshness of the juice, the memory of her Nona making it for Sunday morning mimosas.

“We were able to identify the car following you last night.”

“Was it the hacker?”

“Maybe.”

“What do you mean, maybe?”

“The guy who was following you worked for a hired car service.”

Slamming her eyes shut, Milena suddenly felt like a colossal idiot for calling Bash over a taxi driver.

“According to what Wizard could find, the driver was paid to park outside a laundry list of clubs, and wait for a text before moving to the next club. At the third club on his list, the text instructed him to follow your sister’s car.”

“Who is Wizard?”

“The guy you heard me talking to when you came down the hall.”

Craning her neck in the direction Bash nodded, a warming sensation colored her cheeks.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Milena. Given my line of work, I take security seriously. Every square inch of this property is monitored.”

Turning back to face Bash, Milena squared her shoulders. “Was that the good or the bad news?”

“The good.” Stirring in the cream and sugar, Bash placed the steaming cup beside Milena’s glass of juice. “Whoever placed the texts, used a burner phone. Wizard is still working on finding the payment source. However, he did bring up a valid point.”

“Oh?”

“This may have zero to do with your hacker and everything to do with your sister and her relationship with the paparazzi.”

“How?”

“For one, several months ago, Oakley filed a complaint against a photographer who snapped a photo of her coming out of an appointment I’m sure she wanted to keep secret.”

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