Page 58 of Mob Boss's Second Chance

Somehow, we navigate through the crowd and reach the base of a staircase. A red velvet rope separates it from the main floor, guarded by a bouncer who barely glances at Danielle before unclipping it. She moves forward, but I dig my heels in, pulling her back.

She turns, brows knitting together. “What?”

“Not what,” I correct. “Why? Where are we going? Who are we meeting? I thought this was supposed to be a girls’ night.”

Danielle hesitates for half a second before flashing a sheepish grin. “It was,” she concedes. “But then I ran into some guys while I was waiting for you.” She waves a dismissive hand. “You were late! I was bored. They asked if I wanted to hang out in VIP, and I figured… why not?”

She blows a tiny, petulant raspberry as if that makes it any better.

I exhale sharply. This is exactly why I should’ve stayed home.

“Please?” She tugs on my hand, tilting her head. “Please, Natalie? I promise that if you feel uncomfortable in any way, we’ll leave immediately. And they are responsible. I totally vetted them.”

I roll my eyes. “Right.”

“Is that a yes?”

Do I have any other option? I nod and let her lead me up the stairs to meet a bunch of strangers while thinking about all the alcohol I get to have for free.

As long as it works for tonight. I’ll think about tomorrow in the morning.

Chapter Eighteen

Ethan

The pile of boxes in front of the door tells me one thing—Anthony hasn’t left the house in days.

Not that he hasn’t been, because I’ve been keeping tabs on my cousin since the club incident. He was out and about for a week, drinking and using anything he could lay his hand on.

Then he stopped showing up at his usual spots, so I had my men check the places he didn’t want me to know about.

They said he hadn’t been there in three days.

I would’ve let it go—be grateful that he decided to curtail his escapades, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility that he could’ve taken something.

Overdosed.

“The things you do for family,” I mutter with disgust as I walk into the apartment, inhaling the rancid smell of smoke and everythingungodly. The condo is eerily silent, which means none of the men have come around in a while.

Or they all got tired of Anthony and decided to move to another base.

Oh well.

I run my hand through my hair as I walk to his bedroom. I’m also here to… bury the hatchet. Sort of.

I’m not going to apologize for what I said or for threatening to put him down if he didn’t behave. Iwoulddo it. But Ethan is the only family I have left, and in my line of work, family is as important as the men who pledge loyalty to you.

“Anthony?” I stop in front of his door, knocking briskly. “Anthony? Open up.”

After three tries without any response, I turn away, intending to find something in the kitchen to break the door down. Then I hear a muffled voice from the other, and seconds later, it swings open.

He looks like shit.

His beard is overgrown, wild, and unkempt, with strands of hair sticking out in every direction. A filthy bathrobe hangs loosely from his shoulders, stained with God knows what.

The acrid stench of smoke clings to him, the burns from whatever he’s been inhaling leaving dark smudges on his fingers. His bloodshot eyes, rimmed with exhaustion, barely focussing as he slumps against the doorframe.

“What the fuck do you want?” His voice is hoarse, groggy. His breath is enough to make me take a step back.

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