Page 34 of Mob Boss's Second Chance

Before that—

I reach for my phone and dial a number, asking the person at the other end to come to my office as soon as possible.

Alex walks into my office thirty minutes later, his baseball cap drawn over his head and a mysterious atmosphere around him. I shake my head as he closes the door with deliberate and painstaking slowness.

“That’s how you get noticed, Alex. You’re supposed to be a private investigator, for goodness sake. Do I have to hire someone else?”

He flings the cap off his head and greets me with a grin. Much like Anthony, Alex likes to party. The only difference is that Alex takes on various personalities to get the job done, and healwaysgets it done.

We’ve also been friends since college as he took over the job from his father, who took over from his father.

“Ethan,” he says as he sits. “You never call me impromptu like that. What’s the job?”

I tell him, and he whistles when I’m done, shaking his head. “That’s crazy. I used to think the Cross family… you,” he gestures at me, “were untouchable. It sounds like an inside job. You might have a mole.”

I came to the same conclusion after thinking about Anthony getting too friendly and spilling secrets.

“Can you find out if someone is talking to the prosecution’s office? And there’s someone else I need you to look into.”

“Who?” he asks, bracing his hands on the armrests of the chair.

Pulling out a notepad and pen, I jot down the name “Natalie Monroe” and hand it over.

He chuckles, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “Boss, there’s probably a thousand Natalie Monroes in this city. Unless you want me digging through every single one, I’m gonna need something more specific—like a picture.”

A picture?

I hadn’t thought to take one of her, not that I’d ever admit it. But if Alex asked me to describe her? I could do it effortlessly. Every detail. The way her hair looks when she’s rushing around, handling a dozen different things at once. The way it falls in soft waves when she lets herself breathe.

And her scent—that soft, floral fragrance that lingers in the air, faint but unforgettable.

I could describe Natalie in her dress, in the cherry red blouse, and the way the jeans clung to her curves. I’d tell him how soft her skin feels and every note of her whimpers before they hit the needy moans that make me so hard I forget how to breathe.

“Ethan?” He says my name, and I snap out of my thoughts.

I shake my head, scratching my hair. “I don’t have a picture.”

He clicks his tongue. “Okay. Do you have anything else? Like where she works? Who does she work for? I’m not going to ask why you want me looking into her, but I’ll need more than just the name.”

Shit.

I can’t tell him she’s working for Anthony.

As tight-lipped as Alex has been the years he’s been working for me, I don’t want anything to get to my cousin. He’s already called me out for being on edge… and I need to find out what I need without altering Natalie.

“Why don’t I get back to you on that?” I suggest. “You can look into the other things for now.”

Alex shrugs. “Okay. I’ll let you know what I find.”

***

Instead of going home, I head to Alex’s apartment—technically mine—to talk to him about the prosecutor’s visit. If he did something, I need to know early enough to employ whatever corrective measures are required.

As my driver pulls up outside the apartment, my phone rings. It’s from the manager at Club Royale, the one under suspicion of using the products being sold and distributed.

“Boss!” he says, sounding frantic. “There’s a raid happening. I don’t know—” he breathes heavily, and I can hear his footsteps as he runs down the stairs, “but they showed up unannounced.”

What the hell?

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