Page 251 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

But right now, I’m feeling generous, so I keep the banter going.

“The jury says I can be your best friend or your worst nightmare,” I say, leaning back against the wooden chair.

“Mm. Tempting, but no,” she replies. “I’ve got enough friends, thank you.” She forces a smile and looks at Ray and Bobby for the first time. “Why don’t you spend a few minutes looking at your menus, and I’ll be back in a bit to take your orders?”

The guys nod their heads, still silent.

She walks away and my eyes fall on her shapely ass as it gently swings from left to right, accentuated by her tight black pants. It isn’t until Ray clears his throat that I drag my gaze away from her bent over the bar, whispering into the bartender’s ear.

Hairs on the back of my neck prickle, and I can feel my mouth twist into a grimace.

“Boss?” Ray asks.

I turn my head away from her backside and look at him. “You were saying that there’s something I need to hear while I wait for Dario to show up?” I say in a curt voice. “Well, let’s fucking have it.”

“The thing is,” Bobby starts. “Zoe caught a name when they were wrestling to get her into a van. The guys were all wearing ski masks.”

I furrow my brow. “Did she catch a name?”

“No,” Bobby says. “But she saw something, a tattoo of a black viper that wound around the guy’s wrist.”

“Fuck,” I hiss, balling my hands into fists under the table. “So all we have is ink. And how much blow did they escape with?”

Ray sighs. “At least four kilos.”

“That’s like five-hundred fucking grand.” I shake my head. “I want to talk to Salvatore,” I seethe, leaning in close. “As soon as possible, do you understand?”

“Yeah, boss. We’ll find him and make the arrangements.” Ray looks down at his phone. His eye meet mine, his jaw tight. “And, uh, Dario is outside. Black Range Rover. Tony is driving.”

Tony. I always liked Tony. He was hired by Matteo before he and Heaven left for Vegas and he’s reliable, respectful, and grateful for every penny he earns, for any bone thrown at him. He’s old school, which is why Matteo liked him so much and decided to take him on. He’s become a confidante by default because he has this annoying habit of seeing right through me. It’s like he can sense what I’m thinking. He’s kind of become a weird type of father-figure over the past months, and he’s the guy I trust most.

But everyone has a price. And I’m a big bone.

It’d be nice to not have to shoot him in the head if he’s stupid enough to make a move against me. I shove back the chair, standing up abruptly, adjusting my jacket over the gun stuffed in the waistband of my jeans. I back away from the table, thanking God I wore black ones so that the spill is camouflaged by the dark fabric. “Eat. Drink. And then get me Salvatore on a fucking spit,” I seethe. “I want him alive.” I pull five hundred-dollar bills out of my pocket and toss them onto the table. “For the waitress.” Then I stalk away from the table, not bothering to say another word.

A chill slips down my spine as the gravity of the situation hits me. I’ve been in charge for a grand total of six months, and I’ve lost five-hundred grand worth of blow that I know about. We fired Salvatore, but who knows how long he and his guys have been stealing from us? A little here, a little there, just to see if they can get away with it, to see if anyone notices.

Nobody did.

Until they went after the big payout.

And that’s one-hundred percent on me.

I storm toward the front of the restaurant, not seeing anything but flashes of red.

A chill settles deep in my bones, the feeling of being watched…hunted…grabbing hold.

This could be a bigger ambush than I ever imagined. They were able to get access to the club, they snatched one of our girls, they got away with the drugs…

And they weren’t even careful.

Could it be because they had a bigger objective, one I wouldn’t be able to prevent?

Like a fucking coup to take over our empire while Matty is away?

Or like my death?

Thoughts pop between my ears like bullets, and I almost miss Chella as she brushes past me.

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