Page 66 of Sexting the Don

"I don't know where Florence is," I lie smoothly, keeping my voice even.

Jimmy's laugh crackles through the speaker, harsh and knowing.

"Cut the shit, Enzoy. I know she's right there. Had one of my guys tail her." His voice turns mocking as he addresses her directly. "Hello, Florence, you disloyal bitch.”

I want to strangle the fucker on the spot.

Florence stiffens, her face a mask of pain and anger, but she finds her voice, and it’s strong despite the circumstances.

"Just bring my daughter back. Please."

Jimmy's response is cruel and cold. "Get my money, or the next time you see your daughter, it'll be in pieces."

"Don't listen to him," I whisper to her urgently. "We're not going to let that happen."

Addressing Jimmy again, my voice is a low growl. "You'll get your money. But hear me clearly—nothing better happen to Mandy. Not a scratch."

Jimmy seems amused by my threat.

"We'll see, Enzoy. We'll see how fast you can gather fifty grand. Tick-tock."

As the line goes dead, the silence that follows feels oppressive. I turn to Florence, my expression one of firm resolve.

"We need to move quickly. Sean will coordinate the money. I'll handle the rest."

Florence, pale but determined, nods slowly. "Thank you, Enzo. For everything."

"We're going to get her back," I assure her. "Stay strong. This isn’t over."

Just then, Sean strides in, his face grim but focused. Florence's sobs fill the space, a heartbreaking soundtrack to the unfolding crisis. She lifts her head, her tear-streaked face etched with fear as she listens.

Sean doesn’t waste a moment.

"We've located Jimmy," he announces as he approaches us, his eyes on me but clearly speaking to both of us. "He's holed up in a warehouse on the east side. He's not alone—he has another man with him, and they've got a woman that fits Mandy’s description."

"How secure is the location? Tell our men to keep eyes on them every second!" I say, my mind already racing through tactical options.

Sean’s response is quick and precise. "Our guys are in place, and they're keeping a low profile. They know not to move unless you say so,” he says before adding, “The warehouse isn't heavilyguarded. I’m guessing Jimmy didn't expect us to find him this fast."

Florence, still sobbing, catches her breath at this news, her eyes meeting mine. "Please," she whispers, her voice hoarse, "bring her back safe."

I place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, determination in my eyes. "We will. Sean, get ready. I want a full extraction plan in twenty minutes. Get fifty thousand together, just in case. We move fast and hard. No casualties."

Sean nods sharply and steps out, his phone already to his ear, barking orders. I turn back to Florence, my expression softening.

"I need you to hold on a little longer. We have a plan. We’re going to get her back."

She nods, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, her resolve hardening. "Thank you, Enzo. I don't know what I would do without your help."

"You won't have to find out," I assure her. As I leave the room to join Sean, my mind is clear and focused. Every second counts now, and while the fear for Mandy's safety and the unknown final outcome of the situation still gnaws at me, it's overshadowed by the drive to act and succeed.

As I step out of the room, Sean motions to someone waiting just outside my line of sight. As I enter the hallway, I see Rico Martinez, one of Garadino's trusted lieutenants.

Rico's a tall, imposing figure with a shaved head and a scar trailing down his left cheek.

Despite his rough exterior, he’s known for his unflinching loyalty, and a code of ethics that mirrors Garadino’s—no womenor children are ever involved in business.

"Rico," I nod in greeting as he enters, his posture rigid, every bit the professional.

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