Page 34 of The Mob Boss' Pet

“That’s when we got there.” He points to the black and white video. Tony doesn’t have security cameras in the back room, so we have to settle with the angles from the café and the alleyway.

I close the video and open the next, the one from the alley.

“Okay, here’s the Mancinis arriving.” I tap the monitor. I speed up the video until another car shows up. A Ford Mustang. The driver gets out and heads straight for the back door entrance to the Tuscany Bistro.

“Here he is.” I slow the footage. If we only had an interior angle, I could see his face clearly.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Roberto says. “He walks in, shoots, and comes... see, there he is.” He jerks his finger at the computer. I freeze the video, zoom in.

“That fucking hat is blocking his face.” I try to zoom a little further, but it doesn’t matter. The fucker’s wearing a large brimmed hat and it’s covering up too much to be able to identify him.

The asshole gets back in the car and takes off.

“There!” I pause again, zooming in on the license plate. Got him.

I work my cell from my back pocket and shoot a text to my connection at the police department. “We’ll have the owner’s information in an hour.” I say, dropping my phone to my lap and close the computer.

“That’s it?” Roberto asks me.

“What?” I move the computer to the nightstand and stuff my phone back in my pocket.

“You’re just, I don’t know, a hell of a lot laid back about this,” he points out.

I roll my shoulders back. Stephania’s nails left a few crescent-shaped marks on me, and they pull when I stretch. It’s a good feeling.

“We’ll have the information by dinner and then we decide the next move,” I say.

He stares at me.

“What?” I demand. “We’re going to get this asshole. I swear it.”

“Yeah. I know.” He shoves my feet from the bed and throws his legs over the side. “You’re just distracted, is all.”

“Should you be up?” I ask him, ready to catch him if he wavers on his feet.

He shoots me an annoyed glare. “My shoulder is busted up, not my legs. I’m fine,” he growls and makes his way across the room where his phone is sitting on the dresser with a pack of cigarettes. “And don’t change the subject,” he says, pulling a cigarette from the pack and placing it between his lips. “You’re distracted with Stephania.”

“She’s taking care of you, that’s it,” I defend, shoving out of my chair.

“Really?” He lights the end of the cigarette and takes a long drag.

“Yeah.” I yank open the window to let the stench out of the room before the cloud of smoke chokes me. “She’s just here to take care of you.”

“And that collar around her neck, that means nothing?” he asks me, blowing smoke up into the air and leaning against the dresser.

“Did you say anything to her?” I ask, taking a step toward him. I shouldn’t have made her wear it when she was taking care of him. I won’t have anyone making her uncomfortable.

That’s my job, and mine alone.

“Of course not.” He walks to the window and tosses the half-smoked butt out. “But you’ve definitely been distracted by her, and that’s not like you.”

“You let me worry about that. You just worry about getting better so you can get out of my house.” I try to force some levity into my tone. He’s not in any condition to get his ass beat, and if I let this conversation go too long that’s where it’ll head.

“You can’t keep her here forever, Vincenzo.” He tells me like he has any sort of authority in my house or in this family.

“Not your call,” I remind him.

“She’s innocent in all of this.” He struggles to shut the window with only one arm, but I don’t help. Let him figure it out.

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