Page 29 of Ruthless Mafia Daddy

“Rosa’s already there. I sent her over as a precaution the moment I learnt about Tommy.”

I let out a breath. At least my little sister is safe.

“Seems like you do have a brain after all, little bro.” I hang up the phone.

I open the door to the study that attaches onto the master bedroom and curse when I find it empty. I go the living room, glancing to the couch where Lila’s dress was, but it’s gone.

She’s gone.

And that can only mean one thing.

“Fuck!”

I ball my hands into fists, the knuckles still bruised, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to put a fist through a wall.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dial one of the valets at the hotel, Alex, who also happens to be on my payroll.

“What can I do for you, boss?” Alex asks after one ring. It seems when my men know I’m calling, they don’t hesitate to answer. Good.

“Do you see a girl in a black dress anywhere?”

Alex is silent for a moment.

Car horns and drunken cat calls come faintly through the line as I clutch the phone to my ear.

“There’s some girl looking like she’s waiting for someone. Maybe an uber,” Alex says. “Long curly hair, killer body?—”

“Alex, listen to me.” I choose to ignore the surge of jealousy at Alex’s appreciation of Lila’s body. “Take my Mercedes and follow her uber. I need to know where she lives. It’s essential I know, do you understand?”

Lila would recognize the Lambo, not that I’d let Alex drive it, but still. I need to play my cards right if I’m to keep this contained.

“On it, boss.” Alex hangs up.

My fingers fly, dialing another number, and as it rings, I stalk over to the bar and pour a glass of whiskey. The packet of sour patch kids is still on the counter, and my gut twists as I look at it.

“De Luca,” Kyle mumbles. “It’s five a.m.”

“So?” I down the liquor in one go, hurrying to pour another. “I have a job for you.”

“It couldn’t wait until the sun fucking came up?”

“Business doesn’t wait for anyone, Kyle.” I grind my teeth. “I need you to look into someone for me.”

“That’s what I'm best at.” There’s what seems like the rustle of bedsheets followed by heavy footsteps. “Who pissed you off this time?”

“I need you to find out everything you can about someone named Lila.”

“Last name?”

“Fuck knows. All I know is she graduated NYU three years ago and has a friend named Cassi.”

Kyle lets out a long breath.

“That’s more info than most of the fuckers you ask me to find.” He chuckles. “Speak soon, Andre.”

When the phone goes dead, I down my drink and stare out at the Manhattan skyline.

I should’ve known better than to take a fucking business call when Lila was in the next room. It’s a rookie mistake, one I should have learned from a long time ago. And yet, here I am, having a fucking PI chase down a one-night stand so I can ensure she doesn’t go blabbing to the police. Or worse, the press.

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