Page 57 of The Kingpin's Call Girl

She snorts. “I do.”

I’m about to demand that she tell me, but I can feel Orton tuning in to our conversation now.

Good God, since when do I have ridiculous banter with a hooker?

And since when do I give a shit what people do or where they go on their own time? Where they live or how they know Arianiti’s eagle? I forgot to make her tell me about that one, but that’s not what this is.

I send a guy to hurry them up, and I hand her my black Amex. “You will buy some more dresses.”

“B-but?—”

I lower my voice to just a shade off of menacing. “Buy more dresses and outfits like that one, but don’t get too attached to them because I am going to be destroying those fucking outfits, and I don’t want drama about it.”

“But you already paid me.”

I give her a warning look.

“Okay, okay, okay.” She pockets the card, watching me expectantly, waiting for my next command. The whole fucking thing is getting me hard.

“Use the card or else.”

“Understood,” she whispers. Orton returns her phone.

I tell Gianni to drive her home, and I watch her walk off with a feeling I don’t like. Why am I acting like this?

I join my guys. We hash out some personnel problems.

Gianni texts me when he drops her off—at a pizza place in Midtown.

What the fuck? A pizza place? Afterthatmeal?

And who the fuck lives in Midtown?

I’m fucking annoyed now. Is she more of a distraction than she’s worth? Yes. I should cut her loose. It’s not me to be fussing about people like this.

Eventually, it’s just Orton and me at the big empty table, with Storm up by the door. The ghost who’s not quite here, his favorite position to play.

“Got intel,” Orton says to me.

“Talk.”

“The Tucumayo hitters weren’t ours. Weren’t even Albanian clan.”

“Who told you that?”

“Florian. He took me aside and told me privately. I’ll double-source it, but the info seems good.”

“Florian’s got his ear to the ground,” I observe.

“Sure does.”

I’ll be glad if it’s true. I don’t like to think that the men I’ve inherited would slaughter an innocent young girl. Bloodbaths I’m fine with, but young kids who aren’t in the game? There, I draw the line. It’s a matter of honor.Besa.

It also says that my brother went out of his way to hire somebody or somebodies outside the clan. Hitters he knew would do a vicious job.

“Florian says there are lots of rumblings about our quest to find the Tucumayo hitter or hitters,” Orton continues. “You gotta think whoever did it knows we’re after them now.”

I set a fork on its tip, rotating it minutely, watching the reflection scatter through the tines. The last thing you want when hunting a hitman is for that hitman to know you’re hunting him.

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