Page 62 of Taken By the Mafia King
Sera was smart enough to understand that. She wouldn’t even ask. “I need to know if she’s safe.”
Her tone set that flame alight in my chest, that place only she’d been able to touch. I sighed heavily, my eyes still fixed on her unflinching gaze. “I’m very busy right now. It’ll have to wait.”
“You sure look it.”
“Careful,” I warned.
Sera licked her lips but kept her chin up. Her posture suggested she felt brave, but her eyes told a different story. I saw desperation there. It was eating her alive.
Shit.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I said, letting her off the hook. “Ifyou behave yourself.”
“I always behave.” She rose from her chair and made for the door, pausing when she spotted my half-drunk glass of whiskey on my desk. She snatched it up quicker than I could blink and tossed it back like it was water. Her lips puckered and her nose scrunched, and she spared me a daring little glance over her shoulder before marching out, hips swaying.
She left the door wide open, which felt like a silentfuck youthat made me roll my eyes and smile.
“Goddammit,” I whispered under my breath as I got to my feet and crossed the room. I caught a glimpse of her turning for the grand stairs and disappearing to the second floor. I shut the door and turned the lock to prevent anyone else from disrupting my peace again today.
I tapped my fingers on my desk as disappointment rose in my chest.
She’d said nothing about us having sex. Why did that bother me so much? I half expected her to say I owed her something because I’d fucked her, not because she’d saved Tommaso’s life. If anything, that act had saved her own life by making her more useful to me.
I’d never admit the reason I hadn’t gotten rid of her yet was because there was nothing I wanted to do more than go upstairs and ravish her like I had three days ago. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since.
“Where the hell is Paige Bruno?” I said to myself as I grabbed my phone off my desk and thumbed through my contacts. I pulled up Riccardo Marino’s number. He was a hard man to get a hold of, but for Sera, I’d at least have to try.
But before I could press the call button, Fred Bagnoli’s number flashed across my screen.
“What the fuck do you want?” I asked coldly into the receiver, sitting down behind my desk.
“I need to talk to you about a girl.”
“Fred, we’ve been over this.” I sighed, dragging a hand down my face.
“A different girl.”
CHAPTER 46
SERA
Ididn’t hear anyone thundering after me when I left Killian’s office, so I decided to use my likely fleeting freedom to explore the house a little bit. I hadn’t spent much time in any room but my own, save for visiting Tommaso in his room. I assumed the second level was where most of the formal bedrooms were kept, but the mansion was built in an ancient style that made it impossible to figure out which hallways held bedrooms and which hallways held offices, or sitting rooms, or whatever else someone with money like Killian did with their space.
I tried a few doorknobs, finding most of them locked as I crept through the eastern side of the house. But then I rounded a corner and found myself in a wide open space that overlooked the backyard. Couches and chairs were situated in a semi-circle in front of a massive fireplace, and bookshelves lined the walls, stretching to the ceiling.
It was, in all regards, a library.
I pursed my lips as I slowly fanned through the books, but I didn’t have time to stay out in the open like this. I turned and noticed a door on the other side of the room and went toward it, more out of curiosity than the need to hide lest someone walk out of the shadowed hallways that connected to the library.
To my surprise, the door was unlocked. I opened it wide and stepped inside with a shallow gasp, closing the door behind me.
Olivia had mentioned a cinema room when I first came to Killian’s house, but I’d forgotten all about it. Plush, microfiber couches that felt like clouds against my hand were arranged on three levels. Thick, fuzzy blankets and pillows filled a few of the chairs. In the corner of the room, there was an old-fashioned popcorn machine and a minifridge. I grabbed a Diet Coke and popped it open as I looked around.
Well, why not watch something to kill the time?
I turned on the popcorn machine, smiling to myself as the air in the room was permeated with the scents of butter and salt. Then I flopped down with a bucket of fresh, salty popcorn and snuggled deeply in the cushions in the very front row. There were several remotes sitting on a low table beneath the screen. It took me a good twenty minutes to figure out how to turn the screen on, let alone find any movies.
Whoever used this room the most really liked documentaries about the World Wars, and other boring stuff. I chose a stupid rom-com I’d seen at least three times before, which would undoubtedly mess up their recommendations for what to watch next, but I was beyond caring at this point.
