Page 158 of Mafia and Gold Digger

“Yeah.”

“W-where’s Madeline?”

“Gone. I think she’s squeamish around blood.”

His tiny dick shrivels even smaller. “Look, you don’t want to start anything with me,” he blusters.

“I think I do. Because you’ve put out a hit on Emerald. Made her goddamn afraid for herself, but worse, terrified for her siblings.”

“Look, why do you care about her anyway? She fucking stood you up at the altar!”

I shoot him in the left knee. “That’s your first mistake. Mentioning that. Because I’m still touchy about the subject. And for your information, we’re still getting married.”

He’s whimpering in pain as blood soaks the leg of his pants, only just managing to stay standing as he braces himself against the wall. “For God’s sake, Saint! From what I’ve heard, she left you. You don’t even know where the whore is?—”

I stand up from the armchair and shoot him in the right knee, and he collapses to the floor with a thud and writhes in pain. “That’s mistake number two. Calling her a whore. She’s worth one hundred fucking times what you’re worth. And no one calls her a whore—ever.”

He’s fucking sniveling now as he pleads with me. “We can work something out… How much will it take? I’ve g-got money. We don’t need to…fall out over some dumb ho…”

“And that’s mistake number three.” And I shoot him in the head. Silencing him forever. No one calls her a ho. No one talks like that about Emerald or threatens her goddamn life.

I walk over to where his body has fallen at an awkward angle. I love the sound of my gun. But also, I love the silence that comes after a hit. Silence that tells me all is well in the world again.

Because the fucker should have known better than to mess with the best hitman the Imperiosi’s got.

* * *

The following day, my phone vibrates just after I’ve dropped the kids at school. I’ve exhausted everything. Contacts in transportation. Contacts in different states. My reach is wide and far, but still fucking nothing.

My eyes drift to the new message, and I brake hard before I hit the car in front of me, veering left and pulling over to the side of the road. I open the message in full, my eyes rushing to scan the message and attachment.

Dread and relief wash over me at the same time. My fingers dial my contact, and I drum my fingers against the steering wheel as I wait for him to answer.

“You’re sure?” I bark out.

“Yeah. I came across the report while I was filing some paperwork for that job on the waterfront. Looks like your girl got caught for stealing dresses from some boutique.”

“What? When? Is she okay?”

“They haven’t moved her yet. There’s some overcrowding problem and paperwork issues, so she’s remained in holding for the last few days.”

“Fuck.”

“What’s so special about her?”

“You don’t need to know that, Rawlins,” I snap.

“Right. Er, sorry. Forgot who I was talking to. The station’s fairly quiet right now if you wanna head over.”

Fuck, do I ever. “Yeah. I’ll be there shortly.”

I hang up before he can say anything else. Of all the scenarios I’ve played in my head over and over again, Emerald getting herself goddamn arrested was not on the list. I sink back into my seat, letting the weight of the last week lessen a little as I sit there, my head thrown back against the headrest. A rough disbelieving laugh leaves me. “Only you, Emerald. Only you.” I shake my head as I dial Christian’s number.

“Saint. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I found her. Tell Jacquetta and Nicki.”

“Where?”

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