Page 55 of Mafia King of Lies

“Someone came in and shot up the place. We have the police on site and Sergeant Morrison already called in,” he explains as we make our way to the elevator. “We think it’s the same people who did the warehouse. We are working on finding out who?—”

“Don’t bother, it’s Giacomo.” My blood boils. “He confessed when he came into my office.”

“Your office? When the hell was he in your office and why didn’t you call me?”

“I had it handled. I should have put a bullet in his head.” The decisions we regret are the ones that pain us the most. “How many are dead?”

“A bartender and three of the bottle girls. The rest sustained minimal injuries. But Morrison wants to speak with us. We need him to cover a few details; the news will catch word of those, and we don’t want people snooping around like last time.”

The elevator doors slide open, and we step inside. My mind is moving a million miles a minute thinking of how I can murder Giacomo without turning everything into a complete bloodbath.

“The club is one of several of our hotspots for the molly and jungle gums.” Those are our best-selling products. If the cops find our underground, we’re screwed. “How many boots do we have on the ground?”

“Ten. I’ve already sent them to do some moving around. Don’t worry.”

This is why I chose Valerio as my second. He is thorough and does things before I even need to think of them.

The doors close on us and we head down to the parking lot. If Giacomo wants war, then I will bring the battle ground right to his doorstep.

Dinner would have to wait. Maria will have to understand.

Giacomo just signed his death warrant. And I’ll be the one to collect.

17

MARIA

Ithought that by the time I woke up, I would feel fine. Sadly, I am still upset about him missing our dinner date. I know he is a busy man, but for him to walk in like he had absolutely no care in the world gnaws at my insides.

I roll over in bed, feeling dejected. I want to waste the day in bed, but I know that’s not an option. I can’t let this man have so much effect on me.

I drag myself out of bed, feeling sluggish and drained despite having slept for over ten hours. As I make my way to the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and wince. My eyes are puffy and bloodshot from crying last night, my hair a tangled mess. I look as wrecked as I feel.

Shaking off the thought, I step into the shower, letting the hot spray wash away the dried tears and lingering disappointment. But no matter how much I scrub, I can’t wash away the emotions twisting inside me—anger, hurt, loneliness.

Part of me wants to confront Matteo and demand answers, to make him see how his actions affect me. But another part of me is terrified of being vulnerable, of giving him even more power to hurt me.

As I step out of the shower and wrap myself in a fluffy towel, I smell the bacon coming from under my door. Emily is here.

After I change, I make my way downstairs and into the kitchen. I find her busy behind the stove, making an assortment of things for me to choose from. Normally, I would be salivating at the thought of food, but for some reason, my stomach knots and a wave of nausea hits me.

Emily spots me and gives a sympathetic smile. “Good morning, Maria. How are you feeling today?”

I force a tight smile in return. “I’m fine, thank you.” The lie falls easily from my lips.

She eyes me skeptically but doesn’t push. “I’ve made some breakfast if you’re hungry.”

The smell of bacon and eggs turns my stomach. “Thank you, Emily, but I’m not very hungry this morning.”

Emily frowns, concern etching her features. “Are you feeling all right? You look a bit pale.”

I wave off her concern. “I’m fine, just tired. I think I’ll just have some tea, please.”

As Emily makes tea, I sink onto a stool at the kitchen island. My head is foggy, my body aching—like I’m coming down with something. Is this situation really taking such a toll on my body like this?

“Here you go,” Emily says, placing a steaming mug in front of me. “Some ginger tea to settle your stomach.”

I wrap my hands around the warm mug, inhaling the spicy aroma. “Thank you.”

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