Page 323 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

“Later,” I murmur, dropping a kiss onto her lips. “Be ready.”

I walk out of the apartment and close the door behind me, leaning my back against it for a second. I hate like hell that I’m lying to her. If what Matteo told me is true, the Volkovs are edging closer. And they won’t wait. They’ll just plunder the shit out of our organization.

And God only knows what they’ll do to Marchella if they find her.

I need to do this.

I need to handle Frankie.

I need to show the Volkovs that they can’t fuck with our business.

I take the elevator down to the basement and jump into my car, the tires squealing as I pull the car out of the private parking garage. Twenty minutes later, I’m hurrying into the same deserted warehouse where I handled Dario less than twenty-four hours ago.

I’d really hoped I wouldn’t have to see the inside of this place again so soon.

The air is dank and damp, and a chill seeps into my bones as I near the single light shining toward the back of the building.

The interrogation room.

Or the maiming room.

Depending on the nature of the business being conducted.

I walk into the room to find Frankie sitting in a chair with Bobby holding a gun to the back of his head. His wrists are bound with duct tape, but he’s not tied to the chair. At least he’s smart enough not to make any moves to leave.

“Why am I here?” he yells. “And where the fuck is my sister, you bastard?”

I glare at him, my fingers itching to punch a hole into his jaw. But I stand down. I need him conscious to get my information.

There will be plenty of time later to knock him into next year if he doesn’t learn to keep his goddamn mouth shut.

“I know everything, Frankie,” I seethe, grabbing his hair and yanking his head back. “I know you have access to the drugs. I know you fucked with the Volkovs. And I know it was you who made that hit, not your father.”

He narrows his still-swollen eyes at me. “You don’t know anything,” he spits out. “I don’t have access to anything!”

“Bullshit!” I yell, pulling his hair harder. “You fucking banded together with Salvatore to set us up. Was it all about revenge, Frankie? Huh? You figured you’d screw us and walk away with a wad of our product at the same time? Enough to pay off the Volkovs and then some for yourself? Was that it? You’re looking to make a name for yourself, Frankie, since nobody in this fucking town will take you seriously because of who and what you are?”

“No!”

I let go of his hair and grab him by the neck. “Then tell me what I don’t know!”

“They were gonna kill my dad and Chella!” he chokes out, his voice raspy as he struggles for air. “Unless I got them the drugs! I can’t get what you asked for!”

“Goddammit!” I scream, shoving him against the back of the chair.

“But I can tell you one thing,” he says, clutching his throat as he gasps for breath. “They want more. And they’re planning another hit.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I hiss.

“Because you have my sister. And I’m afraid they’ll come for her, too. I need you to be ready for them or else you’re gonna lose a fuck ton more than you already have.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you…why? You’re a two-faced scumbag, just like your father. Why would I trust you?”

“Because of Marchella,” he says. “I know you don’t want her to get hurt. Hell, I knew it years ago when we were kids. I saw the way you’d look at her. You haven’t forgotten about that, have you? You won’t put her in danger, Roman.”

“I don’t fucking believe you,” I seethe, clenching my fists at my side.

“If you don’t listen to me, the Volkovs will crush you! They smell blood and they’re gonna attack, don’t you get it?”

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