Page 36 of Protected By the Mafia

“I’ll find out what’s going on with your ex-landlord. Don’t worry about that.”

Her voice still unsteady, Felicity asked, “How will you explain that?”

Cristiano chuckled. “Easy. I’ll just say I’m looking for you.”

Felicity let her eyes close, a smile teasing her lips. He made it sound so simple. All she had to do was trust that he knew what he was doing and wait it out. The waiting was hard on her own, but when he held her like this, everything felt more bearable. Like she could breathe again.

It was rare for Dante to ask to meet at DS Industries, but that didn’t mean Cristiano didn’t know his way around. There was only one elevator that went from the ground floor of the high-rise office building all the way to the top floor offices, and maybe a dozen people in total with the authority to take that elevator unescorted. Since DS Industries was a legitimate, high-profile business, many of those people were not family in any way. Still, the risk of taking an elevator with one oblivious almost-stranger was better than taking one with twelve full-on strangers, so Cristiano made no bones about striding straight for it after enduring the annoying-but-necessary security check-in.

He nodded at the familiar face standing beside the private elevator, pressed his thumb to the call button, and waited. Once inside, he pushed the button for the top floor and leaned back against the fall wall of the box. Probably everyone with direct access to the elevator could fit inside and not bump elbows.

As the elevator ascended, Cristiano’s mind wandered. The message that Dante wanted to talk had come to him during breakfast. He’d been assigned an appointment, of all things, so the additional note of the location hadn’t been much of a surprise. Dante only used appointments at the office. But it had been a long while since Cristiano had been summoned to the business headquarters their fathers had founded so long ago. That in itself begged a big question.

Was it possible Dante knew?

Cristiano watched the numbers roll steadily toward his destination and dismissed the concern. No. Dante wouldn’t want to have that conversation in this setting. That would be held at a guest house, if he was mad enough, or he might surprise Cristiano at the penthouse. Those seemed like the two most likely scenarios. Whatever this was, it was something else.

The elevator came to a stop, the subtle ceasing of motion jarring Cristiano into the moment. He’d know soon enough.

When the doors parted, he strode around the corner and past the off-shoot hall with the conference rooms, to the center space that really didn’t qualify as a hallway. It opened wide, similar to a lobby, and the most blissfully ignorant secretary in all of New Jersey came into view on the left. Remembering his manners, Cristiano slowed his pace and inclined his head. Come to think of it, she might have no clue who he was.

Personal Assistant Grace Mariner hopped to her feet with a warm smile. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Mr. De Salvo,” she said, holding out her hand.

Cristiano offered her his polite smile and quickly shook her hand. “Likewise. Dante said to be here.”

She nodded, whisps of her dirty blonde hair slipping free from the not-so-tight bun at the back of her head. “Yes, he should be ready for you.” She stepped ahead of him and led the way around the jutting partition, up to Dante’s office door. She tapped twice and poked her head inside fearlessly. “Sir? Your cousin’s here.”

“Send him in,” Dante called back, “and hold my calls.”

Cristiano barely caught the frown that wanted to bend his lips. This was odd behavior. Was there something wrong with Dante? Or were his estimations so far off-base?

Grace nodded and moved aside, motioning Cristiano forward. She made no attempt at conversation, simply smiled and returned to her seat.

Cristiano pulled the door closed behind him, locking it on reflex before moving up to take a seat in one of the chairs that faced his cousin’s eminently burnable desk. “Do I start with ‘good morning’ or ‘what’s wrong’?”

Dante’s lips twitched and he leaned back in his chair. “Good morning, cousin,” he said. He folded his hands over his lap, out of sight. “You tell me. I hear you capped a man in Trenton yesterday, but I can’t for the life of me figure out why you’d have crossed paths with him. Did he cut you off in traffic?”

He had known this was coming. Ryoma wasn’t the gossip type, but word would still spread. It hadn’t been a one-man cleanup job, after all. Cristiano crossed one ankle over the opposite knee and settled in. There was no time like the present to start running with a line he needed to be using. “Todd had an old connection to the Garcias,” he said. “Turns out he’s the girl’s biological father. I thought I’d lean on him, see what I could learn.”

Dante hummed. “Mikey did say the sister seems to have disappeared. I take it her father gave you trouble?”

Cristiano felt an incredibly strange combination of guilt, anger, and pride. The guilt he’d been prepared for, but the others caught him off-guard. It was hard to keep the emotions off his face, and out of his voice. “He pissed me off.” His intention had always been to be as honest as possible, but these sorts of conversations made that difficult.

“Oh, I trust your judgment that he deserved it,” Dante said. “But I am curious if you learned anything useful?”

Cristiano debated for a second. This was an opportunity he hadn’t anticipated. He had to tread carefully. “Matter of opinion, I guess. They were using each other to make their actual partners jealous, but the mother got pregnant. Todd said she showed up with the baby exactly once and told him the only way he’d see his daughter was if he took her for full custody. He chose not to, even after she told him the girl would be ostracized in the Garcia household.”

“Ostracized?” Dante repeated. His brow furrowed. “Did you see any evidence of that when you went to the family home last week?”

“I didn’t see any evidence of a daughter in that house,” Cristiano replied. It was an easy answer. There hadn’t been a single picture, not even a full family photo, that included Felicity. “Pictures of the boys, and the parents, but nothing with a girl.”

Dante was silent for a beat. “Interesting. Maybe if we find the sister, she’ll be willing to talk.” He didn’t wait for a response before continuing. “Keep looking, but I still want your focus on Tristán himself. And once we have a lead on this Barros, I want finding him up there with Tristán and his friend Ramires.”

Cristiano nodded. He’d been hoping to plant a seed to better justify his upcoming inquisition of Felicity’s former landlord, but Dante’s take was better. As long as he handled it appropriately.

“In the meantime, I wanted to make sure you knew I’m going to be busier than usual with exterior work leading up to the wedding. Romeo will be your primary go-to unless there’s an emergency. You know the conditions. But if we haven’t found these fuckers before Iris and I leave for our honeymoon, I’ll need you to step up to help Romeo keep shit together. He’ll be distracted with DSI, you’ll be better suited to focus on the other side.” Dante leaned forward and folded his arms over his desk. “Can I trust that to you, cousin?”

That was the reason Dante had called him there. And while the request made the guilt spike again in Cristiano’s chest, his answer remained easy. “Of course.”

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