Page 6 of Betraying the Mafia Boss

“Someone’s moaning,” Naomi says, chewing her lips. “You think Dr. Phil is getting some…”

“No way.” I cut her off with a wave of my hand. Dr. Phil’s wife is halfway across America, no way he’s thrusting into someone else while his wife is on a work trip.

“Unless her trip was rescheduled.” Naomi flashes her usual mischievous grin at me. Before I can register what she’s about to do, she twists the doorknob and pushes the door open.

Two heads snap to us, two enlarged eyes are frozen in our direction. Mrs. Phil is on her husband’s table, her skirt is rolled all the way up and her wavy blonde hair is a mess.

Mr. Phil looks even worse. His light brown hair is disheveled, his tie looks like it was knotted by a six-year-old and his shirt is all rumbled. I should look away, but I’m tempted to dip my gaze a little lower to where is pants have puddled around his feet.

I swear I’ll kill Naomi for doing this.

I huff out a nervous laugh. “Sorry, Mr. Phil. Sorry, Mrs. Phil. We’re leaving. Carry on, please.” I reach for the doorknob and slam it shut, then I keel over and clutch my chest.

I’m breathing so hard anyone who saw me would think I'd just finished running a marathon.

“Aren’t they in their fifties?” Naomi mutters beside me. She’s grinning like an evil genius. “How are they still so full of energy?”

I stand straight. “Are you full of energy? Because if you are you might want to start running right about now.”

Naomi bolts off and I sprint after her, chasing her all the way to the other side of the hallway and down the flight of stairs head towards the exit. I need to teach her a lesson about being naughty. With a laugh, Naomi sprints past me, missing steps as she flies down.

I barely make it to the eighth floor when my phone buzzes. My heart sinks and bile burns my throat when a private number flashes on my screen.

Only one person ever calls me from a private number, and it’s someone I detest with all of my being.He insisted I give him updates on Sundays and I’m never to reach out to him first. Not that I would since I don’t have his number. But it’s only Friday night.

Why is he calling now?

I close my eyes, taking deep breaths to calm myself before I answer. “Mr. Valentes.”

“How was your first day at the new hospital, Isabella?” a deep voice asks at the end of the line. I wish he didn’t sound as though we’re life-long friends right now. I’m shivering just talking to this man. “I see you’re both getting along well?”

Heat prickles my scalp. I whirl around and look through the glass window on the wall beside me. “Are you watching me?”

“I’m always watching you,” he answers casually. One would think he didn’t just tell me something as serious and terrifying as the fact he’s stalking me. “Don’t let it bother you though, I won’t step in unless you give me good reason to.”

It’s been a month since my Nana went missing from the care facility she’d been living in. Panic bubbles in my veins and my legs threaten to buckle. “I won’t disappoint you.”

“I know you won’t. We don’t want your dear Nana hurt, now, do we?”

“No. No.” There’s desperation in my voice. “How is my Nana doing? Can you please put her on the phone? Please?”

“I don’t think you understand how this works yet, Isabella.” His evil laughter seeps through my bloodstream like venom. “You’re in no position to make demands here. Get me what I want and you’ll be able to see your Nana.”

“But…”

“And one more thing. Your Nana dies if he gets even the slightest idea of who you are. Don’t forget that.”

“Please…”

He hangs up before I can utter another word and I’m left with the silence of an ended call. I keel over, dropping to my knees as a mixture of rage and despair pierces through my chest like a hot dagger.

The walls in the stairwell feel like they’re creeping closer, they won’t stop until I’m crushed between them. Soon, tears burn my cheeks, my sob breaking the silence in the stairwell.

“Isa?” Naomi’s voice echoes from downstairs. “Isa, are you okay?” Her legs are pounding on the tiled floor as she runs back up the stairs. “Isa, say something. You’re scaring me.”

“I’m—” I trail off. I can’t say I’m fine because I’m not. I can’t lie because I’ve done too much of it in the last month. I’m glad when Naomi squats and wraps herself around me.

She’s patting my head as she whispers, “It’ll be okay. It’ll all be okay soon.”

---