Page 45 of Protected By the Mafia

Her gaze dropped to the phone she had somehow managed to hold onto. “Oh, I … kind of threw it at my cab driver, and he didn’t give it back.” Realizing what he might assume with that, Felicity hurried to add, “I still have your key! It’s in my bra.” She rolled her eyes at herself for blurting the last part, but it was probably better said than not.

Cristiano’s hand paused as he slid the car into reverse. “That’s officially on the list of stories you’re telling me as soon as I finish my next call.” He put the car in motion and asked, “You said your landlord is the one who did that to your wrist?”

Felicity’s immediate confusion shifted just as quickly to frustration and she slumped in her seat. “Yes. I feel like such an idiot.”

Cristiano reached over and gave her thigh a squeeze before passing her his phone. “Can you pair this to the car and dial Ryoma? Put it on speaker for me.”

Properly back to confused, Felicity did as he asked and soon the sound of a ringing line played through the speakers. Not sure what to do next, she quietly set the phone in the tray beneath the dash.

The ringing stopped with a subtle click and an unfamiliar male voice asked, “What’s up?”

Cristiano moved his hand back to Felicity’s thigh. “Need you to collect a couple of assholes for me. You can even dump ‘em in the same room, as long as they’re secured. Just make sure to let me know where they end up once it’s done. Make it somewhere I can have a nice, long chat.”

Chat? Confusion was definitely winning. Did he think he could scare them into talking after today’s events? Then again, after the way Matt had freaked out, maybe he could.

“I can definitely do that,” the voice on the other end of the line attached to the name Ryoma said. There was something that might have been laughter or at least amusement in his tone. “But you gotta tell me who I’m looking for. Assholes are a dime-a-dozen.”

She almost laughed. She had to bite her lips to keep the laughter inside.

Cristiano gave her thigh another squeeze, easily navigating traffic with one hand. “Felicity Garcia’s landlord, Chuck, and her neighbor across the way, Matthew.”

Ryoma let out a short whistle. “Color me intrigued. Okay, I’ll have ‘em rounded up by night’s end.” The line disconnected.

Felicity released a breath. “I don’t know if there’s anything Matt can tell you,” she said, “but I think there’s a connection you can play up between Chuck and Tristán.”

“Yeah? I was just planning on beating the shit out of them until they stopped breathing.” He pulled his hand away in order to make a turn. “What makes you think there’s a connection?”

Her eyes widened. “You said you were going to have a chat.”

“It’s a euphemism,” he said. He tapped a slim electronic button attached to his visor as the car rolled up and then promptly down a driveway, into a gated basement parking garage. He tapped the button again as they drove through and Felicity watched in her side mirror as the gate swung shut.

She gave herself a shake. “Chuck called me ‘Lissy’,” she said. “That, plus his weird behavior and the fact that he was assaulting me and trying to drag me off somewhere, made me think the only thing that makes sense is that he’s in Tristán’s pocket somehow.”

“Then I’ll be sure to grill him about that while he can still talk.” Cristiano turned off the car, released his seat belt, and met her gaze. “Wait for me.”

She unbuckled and watched as Cristiano rounded the car, letting him open the door for her and offer her a hand. His arm moved around her waist as they headed back toward the private elevator, and Felicity realized two things she hadn’t noticed before. There were two elevators to choose from—Cristiano taking the one that required a thumb print to step into—and she couldn’t have identified a floor number for the penthouse suite if she’d thought to try. There were only three options inside the elevator, which were B1 for the parking garage, L she presumed for the lobby, and PH for penthouse.

Felicity stared at the panel with the trio of pristine buttons for a long second as the elevator began to rise. Then, finally, she looked up at Cristiano. “How is the key supposed to get me back in?” It certainly wouldn’t get her through the gate if she had a car, either. But she didn’t, so she wasn’t too bothered by that.

“You would come into the building on street level and use the main elevator.” He pointed to the panel. “You would put the key in the slot next to the ‘P-H’ where the button should be, and turn it. That tells the elevator where to go. It’ll open at the lower level of the penthouse. When it arrives, you take the key out and exit the elevator, where you’ll step into a small external foyer. You’ll need the key to unlock that door, which opens into the downstairs gym and automatically locks behind you, so you’d be fine from there.”

There was an echo of familiarity in his words and embarrassment flooded her. “You explained that before, didn’t you?”

He flashed her a grin. “I suspected you were distracted.”

She let herself lean into him instead of responding and repeated the instructions to herself silently, just in case she ever needed them. At least she’d tried to pay some attention to the street they turned onto and the building itself this time. So probably she could find her way back if they got separated outside again.

Cristiano gave her hip a squeeze and stayed silent until the elevator dinged their arrival and he guided her off. “Now, where did you say you put that key?”

Felicity opened her mouth to answer on reflex, but Cristiano released her waist in favor of hooking two fingers in the collar of her dress, tugging her close and simultaneously giving himself a bird’s-eye view of her barely contained breasts. A fresh rush of heat coursed through her and she made no move to stop him.

“Here, was it?” He dipped his fingers into her cleavage, letting them curve beneath her boob and squeezing. Only then did he make a passing effort to scoop out the lip balm that had slipped underneath as well, rolling it between his fingers as he lifted his hand. “Hm. Nope.” He set the item on the small table, beside his own keys. “Guess I’ll try the other side.”

She bit her lip as he dipped his opposite hand into her bra and fondled her chest some more. His thumb rolled over her nipple and she heard herself whine, then he retreated, the lone key pinched between two fingers.

“Found it,” he said, a wicked smirk on his lips. “We’re going to keep this right here.” He opened the top right drawer of the small table, shoved the pack of batteries aside, and set it down. “This is always where your key will be, until you put it on a ring and start coming and going more regularly. Memorize it, in case you need to grab it in a hurry.”

Felicity nodded, staring at the image of the key in the drawer and trying not to think about his hands on her boobs. Or where else she wanted them.

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