Page 88 of Mafia and Gold Digger

I nod. “Stay sharp,” I command the men behind me.

The stairs creak under our weight as we descend, the sound echoing off the concrete walls. The basement is even colder than upstairs. And the smell of damp earth fills my lungs. My flashlight illuminates a series of rooms, each one emptier than the last. Whoever was down here is long gone. But they’ve left clues behind.

Discarded woman’s clothing, a hairbrush, chains…

“Basement is empty,” I radio the others.

“They likely had trafficked women held in here,” Leoluca growls as we look around.

By the time we’re back upstairs, one of the men is sifting through the papers on the table. “Anything useful?” I ask.

“Some pointers about their operations. They obviously left in a rush.”

“Yeah. After the fucking traitor told them we were coming,” I snarl. I exhale slowly, the adrenaline draining from my body. The raid is over, and we’re left with nothing but fucking scraps. My mind races. Who tipped them off?

“We’ll get them next time,” Leoluca says in a terse tone.

I nod, but his words feel hollow, and Christian’s face is a mask of barely-restrained fury. Next time? It’s like we’re chasing shadows—shadows who are always one step ahead of us. And the longer it takes to find them, the bigger the threat of the Feds becomes. Christian’s been working his contacts, but it’s only a matter of time before the Imperiosi gets dragged further into this trafficking mess.

The ride back is silent. I keep my eyes on the road ahead, but my mind is back in that warehouse, replaying every step, every corner we checked, every clue we found. There has to be something we missed.

Later, arriving back at the mansion, the weight of the night settles around me like a heavy cloak, and I shake my head. We didn’t catch them tonight. Fine. But this isn’t over. We’ll get the fucking traitor one way or another.

* * *

It’s the following evening, and I’m about to head out to the casino and stop off to tell Emerald. I hear laughter coming from nearby, and I walk into the dining room to find her sitting at the table and playing poker with two of my men, Donato and Fiorino.

Emerald sits at the head of the table, a smirk playing at the corner of her full lips as she rolls a poker chip between her fingers. The men flank her on either side, and their eyes flick to me the moment I step closer. They acknowledge me with a small nod before returning to the game.

I cross my arms. Emerald doesn’t look up right away, but she knows I’m here.She always does.

“You’re supposed to be providing security, not sitting around playing cards,” I snap at the men.

“I asked them to play with me," Emerald clips in a voice tinged with challenge. “And they finished their shift, so the other two guys have taken over.”

I suppress the growl in my throat. They look to be having way too much fun, and I hate the idea of any man being too close to Emerald.

She goes to grab a bottle of water from the fridge in the kitchen, and I stalk after her. “I don’t like you inviting the men inside.”

She sighs. “I was bored, okay? You did tell me to minimize my trips out of the mansion.”

“I’m just looking out for you. Those two are awful cheats when it comes to cards.” Although my men are the absolute best at their jobs, they have no qualms when it comes to how to win at poker. Maybe it’s the made man in them, but following the rules of a game is not something they’re known for. “I just don’t want to see them getting one over on you, Emerald, that’s all.”

“They won’tget one over on me, Valentino. I’m not some brainless bimbo, you know.”

“I’m not saying that you are.” I give a heavy sigh. “Just don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”

But she merely rolls her eyes at me.

* * *

Later that evening, I arrive home to find Emerald curled up on the sofa, watchingThe Real Housewives of Sunset Beach. “Where are Donato and Fiorino?”

“Gone home. There are only so many times I could lose to them before I got completely bored of the game.”

I nod. “I’m glad you came to your senses. Those two would have bled you dry if you let them.”

“Excuse me?”

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