Page 35 of Assistant to the Mafia

Grace pulled her feet back several inches and kicked as hard as she was capable of, as hard as she ever had in her life. She made sure to keep her mouth shut despite the way her knees disliked the motion and her ankle threatened to twist. She was sure she felt something give, so she waited a beat, then did it again.

On the third try, the light finally gave. She nearly sobbed with relief, even though her shoe went with it. Even though she scraped her heel pulling her foot back in.

She held still then, and sure enough, the music stopped. Her hackles rose and she didn’t dare breathe, convinced her kidnappers were trying to listen for suspicious sounds coming from the trunk.

She wasn’t sure how long passed before the music cranked back up, and only then did she pull in a deep breath. Okay. I can do this. Grace worked carefully, making as little noise as possible, to shimmy herself around until she could reach the opening she’d made.

She had no desire to shred her wrist on the pieces of jagged glass or plastic or whatever it was that hadn’t broken away, so before shoving her arm through, she slipped one arm out of her coat and scooted enough to pull the other higher up her palm. It was heavy enough material, at least, that it would offer a level of protection. It was better than nothing. Romeo would certainly forgive her for destroying it. With that in position, she shoved her hand through the hole, making sure the coat sleeve was what snagged on the sharpest edges. When her hand was clear and her wrist could roll, she started waving.

She would wave like a madwoman if she had to, and she wasn’t going to stop until the trunk popped open.

The scene was a disaster.

The Aviator was destroyed. It had been on its side, riddled with bullets, all the windows blown out, and still partially burning when Romeo arrived. Bullet casings and actual fucking scorch marks marred the street.

He should have said that the worst thing about the scene was Al’s unfortunate fate. Al was dead. Al hadn’t even made it out of the car. He appeared to have been gunned down while still strapped in. His gun had been extracted from the wreckage and it had been confirmed, the man hadn’t managed to get off a single shot.

Romeo was angry about that. He’d liked Al well enough, and now it was in part his fault the man was gone.

But the actual worst thing about the entire disastrous scene was the absolute lack of Grace. She wasn’t trapped in the wreckage of the car. She wasn’t hiding behind a roadside tree. She was completely missing. The closest thing they had to any sign of her was a short, stomach-churning, trail of blood.

Blood.

It sprinkled the asphalt in a jagged line moving away from the destroyed Aviator. More had been found inside, smeared on the airbags in the backseat.

“It looks like they took off from here,” Cristiano said, crouched beside the curved black tread marks just beyond the end of the blood trail. He jerked a thumb down the road. “They’d have reconnected with the interstate about a half mile that way. With the turnpike up ahead, it’s hard to guess which direction they went.”

Romeo dragged in a breath, the cold air like shards of ice sliding down his throat.

Dante stepped away from the man he’d been speaking to. “Have you learned anything useful from that punk we have in custody?”

Cris straightened, his head sweeping from one side to the other like he hadn’t already scanned the scene. “They were definitely Ink Blots,” he said. “I asked him about Tracey but all I’ve gotten is the unconfirmed sense that the guy we grabbed didn’t much care for the man.” He focused on them. “So far, the little shit’s insisting they didn’t really know why they were being sent after her. Only that they were supposed to kill Grace and anyone who caught sight of them along the way.”

“Bull-fucking-shit,” Romeo said with a grunt.

Dante inclined his head. “I’ll have you postpone the rest of that conversation. Finding Grace needs to be our first priority.” He cut his gaze to Romeo. “I presume you agree.”

“Obviously I fucking agree,” Romeo snapped. He opened his mouth to say more, to demand they clear out and just let a cleanup crew deal with the scene, when his phone started ringing. For a split-second, he stared down at his coat as though he didn’t understand. Then hope surged through him and he hurried to extract his phone, saying a silent prayer—or the closest he ever came—that Grace had gotten away from her abductors and found a phone. Any phone. He’d answer any damn number right now.

That hope was crushed beneath a fresh layer of fear when he saw the number for Lucia’s private school on the display. He really couldn’t handle shit happening to both the central females of his life on the same goddamn day.

He had to clear his throat as he put the phone to his ear, working to remember not to snap. “This is Romeo.” He saw Dante’s eyes narrow, watching.

“So sorry to bother you, Mr. De Salvo,” an older female voice said on other end of the line. It took him a moment to place her as the headmistress of the school and he fought not to grind his teeth.

Impatient and mildly petrified, Romeo cut in. “Is Lucy—”

“Lucia’s fine,” Mrs. Sunter said quickly. “We’re doing our best to keep her from becoming aware of the situation, however … well, there’s no easy way to say this. There’s a rather agitated woman at the school gate demanding to pull her from class, insisting she is Lucia’s mother.”

Romeo felt the world come to a full stop.

I’m coming for what’s mine

The note he’d been dragged out to see. The stupid, obscure note that hadn’t made sense. Left from a lamely disguised woman in a rental car that had, apparently, been acquired with cash. With everything else going on, Mikey hadn’t gotten to looking at the documents from the rental company yet. He didn’t need to now. Romeo knew, as surely as he knew anything, that the woman who’d vandalized his gate was the same as the one now making as scene Lucy’s school.

Amber fucking Hester.

She’d finally crawled out of whatever hole she’d fallen into. And she had the motherfucking gall to think she could just rip Lucia’s life apart for her own personal gain, probably for nothing more than the child support Romeo would naturally then have to pay.

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