Page 89 of A Bossy Proposal

My stomach drops. “What else?”

He shakes his head. “She was worried about her friend. Told her Felix is petrified and already left New York after being threatened.”

“Felix called her to warn her,” I mutter, almost to myself.

“Her friend tried to calm her down, told her she’d be fine. But Miss Amelia got really upset. She said she needed to be alone and...” Callum hesitates.

“And what?” I growl.

“She asked me to leave.”

I clench my fists, anger warring with fear inside me. “You’re her bodyguard. Why the hell did you leave when you had someone shooting at you?”

He shakes his head. “It wasn’t related to you or Miss Amelia. It was a street robbery.” Callum looks away, shame clear on his face. “But you’re right, and I’m sorry, sir. It was an error on my part.”

“Did you tell Amelia that was all it was?”

Callum shakes his head. “She was on the phone when I received the news.”

I close my eyes, trying to think.

Where would she go?

What would she do?

“Sir,” Callum’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “I know someone who can deal with this problem.”

My eyes snap open. “Who?” I stare at Callum, hope flaring in my chest.

Callum shifts his weight, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. “Cillian O’Reilly, sir. He’s...well, he’s not exactly on theright side of the law, but he’s got a reputation for getting things done.”

“O’Reilly?” The name sounds vaguely familiar. “Irish?”

“Yes, sir. His family’s been in a blood feud with the Italians for generations. There was an arranged marriage between his sister and an Italian family based in Boston to ease tensions, but...” Callum’s voice trails off.

“But what?”

“Cillian still hates Italians with a passion. He’d jump at the chance to take one down, especially a big fish like Vincenzo.”

I consider this for a moment, weighing the risks. Dealing with criminals isn’t my usual MO, but for Amelia... “Can you get in touch with him?”

Callum nods. “My cousin knows him. I can make a call right now.”

“Do it,” I command, my voice leaving no room for argument.

As Callum steps away to make the call, I resume my pacing. My mind racing with possibilities, and the worst-case scenario.

What if Vincenzo has already found her?

Callum returns a few minutes later, his expression grim but determined. “O’Reilly’s in, sir. He says he can meet us in an hour at a pub in Hell’s Kitchen.”

I nod, already moving towards the elevator. “Let’s go.”

As we descend in the elevator, I turn to Jackson. “Keep trying Amelia’s phone. And start checking hospitals and intercept the police radios. We need to find her.”

“Yes, sir,” Jackson replies, pulling out his phone.

My heart pounds as we step out into the night. Anyone else would hide. But not me. Somewhere out there, Amelia’s alone and scared because she knows her past has caught up with her. And I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to her.

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