Page 128 of Ruthless Mafia Daddy

Marco climbs to his feet, pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket and handing it to me.

I glance down at the screen before answering.

“You better have an address for me, Kyle.” I wipe my bloody hands on my shirt.

“I have something better,” Kyle replies. “Turns out it wasn’t a mistress Lorenzo was wiring all that money to.”

“How is this better?” Fuck, if it turns out to be some lacky, it’s likely Lorenzo won’t give two fucks whether we take them hostage.

“It was an illegitimate son he had with a mistress two decades ago. The kid lives on the lower east side, some swanky apartment on Orchard.”

I glance to Marco, who’s switching out the magazine on his gun with swift efficiency. He glances in my direction with raised brows as I hang up the phone.

“Turns out Kyle got us something better than a mistress.” A feral smile tugs at my lips. “He got us a descendent.”

“An eye for an eye.” Marco chuckles, cracking his knuckles. “This just got interesting.”

I crack my neck and roll my shoulders before climbing out of the Hummer. “Dez, you and Sloan stay here.”

I slam the door.

“What’s the plan here, brother?” Marco falls into step beside me as we approach the apartment building.

“Climb the fire escape to the top floor, get the fucker in his sleep.”

Marco grins.

“It’s showtime.” He reaches for his gun.

Soon enough the city will rise from its slumber to find the bloodbath we’ve left in our wake, but until then, we hide in the shadows as we quietly ascend the stairs to the top floor.

“This is it.” I press myself against the red bricks.

No lights are on, and I only hope that means our target is tucked up in bed.

We’re running out of time, and without this lead, I’ve got nothing to offer Lorenzo in exchange for Lila.

I glance over my shoulder at Marco. “Ready?”

He nods.

I slam the base of my gun into the glass window and climb through into a darkened living room.

“Rise and shine!” I call out, pointing my gun at the ceiling and firing.

I hear a thud off to the right in what I assume is the bedroom.

Making sure Marco is following, I charge in there.

Vince Rossi is waiting, his own gun pointing straight at my chest.

“Too slow.” I point at his shoulder and fire.

He cries out, falling to his knees as he clutches at the wound.

Marco strolls over and picks up his weapon before sending it careening into the side of Vince’s face, splitting his cheek and possibly cracking a few of his teeth.

“Fuck, you look just like him.” Marco crouches down and gets to work binding Vince’s hands behind his back.

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