Page 63 of The Merciless King

Speaking of, I need to get focused back on the entire reason I am here. Not Gianna.

Like I’m thinking of getting that tattooed on the inside of my eyelids.

Or on my cock. Maybe the pain might remind me.

“Dial Mack.” I say to my phone.

“Dialing Mack Cunningham,” the digital voice replies.

“Well, you’re still alive. Well done.” The Dark King finally answers.

I smile and slow for an intersection, then turn.

“I met Frank and Dante Baldassare and Salvatore last night.”

“Dante. Interesting. I’ll get a full brief from you when you have time. I sense an urgency in your voice. What’s up?”

I update him on the proposal the don put to me this morning and what we need to pull it off.

“Shit. Okay. I’ll send you some international numbers in ten minutes. Dial them, let the call sit for about ten minutes each in case they track your phone,” Mack says.

“Got it.”

“I’ll ring Scott in the meantime and get some information on European syndicates and known traffickers,” Mack adds.

I pull into a parking lot near a picturesque lake. If I’m being followed, it will just look like I’ve parked to make some private phone calls.

Which is exactly what I’m doing.

“I’ve told them I’m keeping my contacts private.” I share. “Hopefully that is something they’ll respect.

“Don’t assume shit. If they press a gun to your noggin, you want to have something to keep you alive,” Mack says as he taps away at a keyboard.

Whether he’s creating the numbers or getting one of his team to do it, I don’t know. From what I’ve seen, these guys have a huge number of resources behind them.

I mean, they have a link to the feds along with Connor Barrett’s funds. That opens a lot of doors and provides leading-edge technologies.

The US government is not behind the times in any sense of the word, but a billionaire is going to have a lot more toys.

I glance down at the Ferrari badge on the steering wheel and smile.

“Right.” I rub my forehead, imagining Salvatore lining up to it. “Fuck man. Have I thought this through?”

He goes quiet.

“Probably not, but we understand why you’re doing it. Ask yourself if you could live with yourself if you didn’t? I already know the answer.”

I lean my elbow on the door and shake my head.

He’s right.

I couldn’t just head home and hope the authorities find Amy or lie to myself that she’s already dead. Or fine. She’s not.

If she is still alive, then I have to find her.

I have to fucking try.

There is no other option.

---