Page 54 of Sexting the Don

And if Jimmy was watching, waiting for an opportunity, he could’ve made a move. He’s still off the radar.

I can’t sit here and do nothing, trapped in my own head with escalating scenarios. Decision made, I start the car and pull out onto the street. I need to head back and ensure they’re safe. If Mandy is indeed sick, fine, I’ll back off and give her space, but I have to see for myself that nothing more sinister is at play.

As I drive, my mind races through plans and contingencies. I’ll sweep the property first and check for any signs of tampering or unfamiliar faces lingering around. If everything at the house checks out, I’ll have to consider the next steps. Maybe it’s time to tighten up security and make sure that when I’m away, there are eyes and ears keeping watch.

Pulling into the familiar drive, apprehension takes hold. Protecting Mandy and her mother is a commitment I've made and one I intend to keep, no matter the personal cost.

A sinking feeling takes hold the closer I get. The entire property is dark, with not a single light on in the main house or the guest house. As I park and step out of the car, I notice the Land Rover I had assigned Florence is parked out front.

Relief flickers momentarily; she must be here. But as I enter the house, calling out for Mandy and her mom, there’s no response. The silence is unsettling.

I quickly make my way to the guest house. The door swings open to a cold, empty space. It's not just uninhabited; it's clear they've taken all their belongings. My mind races—why would Mandy leave without telling me?

The thought of Jimmy coercing them into leaving sends a surge of worry through me. Did he discover where they were staying?

Frustrated and needing answers, I pull out my phone and dial Sean. “They’re gone. The guest house is empty. I need you to find out where they are immediately,” I command, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Got it, boss. I’ll put out the word and see what comes back,” Sean replies, his tone serious yet understanding.

Sean calls back within an hour. “Found them. They’re at an apartment in Silver Lake, not too far from Sunset and Hyperion.”

Relief washes over me. They're safe, at least for now, but why there?

“Thanks. I’m heading over there now,” I say, cutting off any further discussion.

“Want me to come with you? Or have some of the guys check the place out first?” Sean offers, always ready to back me up.

I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “No, I’ll handle this personally. I need to see Mandy and find out what’s going on with her directly.”

“All right, boss. Let me know if you need anything.”

As I get back in my car and head toward Silver Lake, my mind is a whirlwind of scenarios. What drove Mandy to suddenly moveout without telling me? How does Jimmy figure into this—if at all?

My grip tightens on the steering wheel, the drive ahead giving me a few minutes to gather my thoughts and brace for what might be a very complicated confrontation.

As I navigate the streets toward Silver Lake, my mind can't shake off the gnawing questions about Mandy's sudden move. It irks me, not just because she did it behind my back, but because there's a deeper issue at play here.

She was only at my place for a short stint, but those days mattered. I appreciated the peace of mind knowing she and her mom were just a stone’s throw away, safe under my watch.

Silver Lake has its own vibe, buzzing with hip cafes and indie music scenes. It’s lively and eclectic, but it lacks the fortress-like security of my estate. It’s a cool place for the young crowd with its mix of vintage bungalows and sleek new apartments, but it's not the stronghold I prefer for someone I care about.

Pulling up to the apartment complex where they’re now staying, I size up the building. It fits the neighborhood’s bohemian charm—older yet with plenty of character, the brickwork showing signs of age, the gates only offering the basics in terms of security. It’s a far cry from the gated assurance of my own home.

I stride into the lobby and immediately spot the doorman, an average Joe, clearly not top tier in his profession. I approach him confidently, my demeanor confident.

"I'm looking for someone," I say. "Mandy Charles."

The doorman looks up, a hint of hesitation in his eyes.

"Is she expecting you?"

I lock eyes with him, my gaze steely and commanding.

Seeing his reluctance linger, I casually pull out a wad of cash, a silent but clear language everyone understands. I peel off a few bills, his resistance melting under the dual pressure of my tone and the cash.

"Apartment 204," he mutters, taking the money with a quick, greedy glance. "They just signed the lease today."

I shake my head at how easily the security here folded. It’s a point I’ll be making to Mandy when I see her. I walk past him without another word and head straight to apartment 204.

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