Page 64 of Sexting the Don

The conversation halts abruptly as the sharp ring of the doorbell echoes through the house. I glance at Sean, and without a word, he's up and heading to the door. Moments later, I hear it—the unmistakable sound of sobbing, the desperate pleas punctuated by a familiar voice.

Florence.

My stomach tightens, a sense of dread washing over me. I rise from my desk and stride toward the foyer with a purpose, my mind racing with all the worst scenarios. As I reach the door,I see Florence, her eyes swollen from tears, her whole body shaking.

"Let’s go to my office," I say, my voice firm yet gentle as I lightly place my arm around her shoulders. Once we’re settled, I shut the door softly behind us and turn to face her. "Florence, what’s happened?"

She tries to compose herself, taking shaky breaths between sobs. "It’s Mandy. Her boss from the restaurant called me," she manages to say, her voice breaking. "She didn’t show up for her shift. Mandy would never just miss work without calling in. Something’s wrong, Enzo."

My jaw clenches as I process her words. "When was her shift supposed to start?" I ask, trying to piece together the timeline.

"Over two hours ago," Florence replies, her voice a whisper now, laden with fear.

Fear creeps into every corner of my being. This isn’t right. Mandy is punctual and responsible—she wouldn’t just disappear.

Florence's voice trembles as she continues, the words spilling out in a rush. "I had a friend drive me over to the restaurant when I couldn't get a hold of her. Her phone just rang and rang, then it went straight to voicemail." She pauses, swallowing hard. "I found her bag and phone just lying there on the ground outside of your car."

As if to make her point, she reaches into her pocket and slips out a phone—Mandy’s. She places it on the desk, and I pick it up, looking it over before setting it back down.

The air in the room suddenly feels suffocating. I steady my voice, trying to project calm. "Do you think Jimmy could be involved in this?"

She nods, her fear palpable. "Yes, no doubt in my mind he’d go that far. He could be using her to get to you. Maybe he wants a ransom."

My fists clench at my sides. The thought of Jimmy using Mandy as a pawn against me ignites a fury deep within. But I need to stay focused, for Mandy's sake.

I keep my voice even, reassuring. "We’re going to find her, Florence. I promise you that." I glance at Sean, who's been silently taking in the situation. With a subtle nod, I signal him to start making calls.

"I want updates on Mandy's last known location. If no one can find her, then find Jimmy. Now."

Sean immediately pulls out his phone and steps out of the office, his movements swift and determined.

Turning back to Florence, I try to offer some comfort.

"We're going to do everything we can. I have people who can handle this. Mandy means a lot to me." My words are firm and meant to instill confidence, but inside, I’m being eaten away by fear and worry.

Florence, still shaken, nods slowly. "Thank you. I just want her back safe."

"I understand," I reply, my voice softening. "We're on it. Sean is one of the best, and he’s already on the move. We’ll find her."

As Florence tries to compose herself, I walk over and gently place a hand on her shoulder. "We'll keep you updated every step of the way. I want you to wait here in the meantime and try to stay strong."

The promise hangs in the air, a vow I intend to keep. In my world, threats are part of the game, but when they touch the innocent, it becomes personal. Jimmy has crossed a line, and I’ll move heaven and earth to make this right.

It's crystal clear to me now—Jimmy's hands are all over this mess. The knot of anger in my gut tightens. I'm furious with myself for not having posted guards on her; I should've known better than to underestimate the depths Jimmy would sink to.

As Sean works the phones in the next room, I try to bring some semblance of calm to the fraught situation.

"Here, have something to drink. It might help settle your nerves a bit," I suggest, pouring a small glass of bourbon and sliding it across to Florence.

She wraps her hands around the glass, the amber liquid swirling gently. "Should we call the police?" she asks, her voice shaky.

I shake my head, the decision clear in my mind. "My team and I can handle this more discreetly and efficiently. With her being an adult, the police won’t consider her missing for at least forty-eight hours. We'll get her back safely. You have my word."

I try to project confidence, though the roiling anger and concern make it a tough sell, even to myself.

Florence takes a tentative sip of the bourbon, her hands trembling slightly. Suddenly, Mandy’s phone begins to shake on the desk where Florence had placed it.

Florence jumps, nearly spilling her drink, and then her face blanches as she sees the caller ID. "It’s Jimmy," she whispers, horror-stricken, pushing the phone toward me.

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