Page 364 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

I grab the bag, pulling it open for no good reason considering the fact that anything of value would be on her person.

And that would be an interesting sight to see.

What kind of clothes could she possibly have fit into this tiny purse?

Of course there isn’t a single clue in the bag. I throw it against the wall and let out a loud roar.

She played me like a violin.

And there was no way she was gonna stick around and get caught for whatever indiscretion she committed earlier tonight…like murder.

I don’t think we’ve seen the last of her.

But since my ‘angle’ managed to escape my clutches, I’m not as clueless about her involvement as I am about Conor’s.

I open the window and climb out of the small opening, feeling a little like a contortionist maneuvering my way out of it. I straighten up, quickly jogging around the front side of the building and then back down the side street to see if I can find…Christ, I don’t even know who I’m looking for right now!

Not that there’s anyone in sight.

For all I know, she could have called someone to come pick her up.

Someone she’s working with.

Someone I might want to get acquainted with.

I fist my hair and stalk toward the back door of Velvet Lounge instead of shoving myself through that window again. I push open the door so hard that the girls standing right inside jump back with looks of horror on their faces.

“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” one of them yells as I push past. I stop for a second and silence her with a menacing glare.

Lucky for her, she gets the message I just impaled her with.

I shove past people grinding against each other on the dance floor, my cock now limp as a fucking overcooked spaghetti noodle.

Patrick looks up from his phone with a single eyebrow lifted when he sees me.

“I thought you were with her in the back.”

“I was.”

“Well, where is she?”

“Gone,” I say through clenched teeth, picking up my shot of vodka and sucking it down before slamming the glass down again.

“Gone where?”

I narrow my eyes. “She didn’t tell me before escaping out of the fucking window!”

“So why are we still here? If she escaped, shouldn’t we try to find her? We’ll definitely find her in that red dress!”

“No dress,” I grunt.

“What are you talking about?”

“She stripped out of it. Left it in the trash along with a wig.”

“Shiiiit,” Patrick mutters. “But if she left her clothes, we’d have an easy time picking out a naked chick running through Brooklyn, yeah?”

I rub the back of my neck. “God only knows what she’s wearing. And as far as I could tell, she disappeared into thin air.” My shoulders slump. “But one thing I know for sure. She’s Russian mafia, I saw the star.”

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