Page 11 of His Ruthless Obsession

"You think we got a rat?" Tony's hand instinctively moves to his holster.

"I think someone's talking too much at the wrong bars. Fix it." Nods go around the table, and I move back to my chair, taking a seat and looking the picture of casual. "Good. Any other ideas?"

Marco clears his throat, drawing my attention. His dark blue eyes hold that calculating look I've come to rely on over the years.

"What about Jimmy at the docks? He owes me for keeping his kid out of trouble last month."

I lean back in my chair, considering. Marco's network of contacts runs deep - built on years of traded favors and carefully cultivated relationships.

"Jimmy's good, but we need more." I tap my finger against the polished wood. "The Mantiones are spreading wider than the docks these days."

"I got other plays." Marco's tattoos shift as he crosses his arms. "Remember Carlo? Runs that sports bar on Taylor Street? His place is neutral ground — Mantione guys drink there all the time. They get loose-lipped after a few rounds."

Tony perks up. "Carlo's still around? Thought he went back to Sicily."

"Nah." Marco shakes his head. "Got too comfortable here. Plus his wife would kill him if he tried moving her away from her mother."

"Carlo could work." I straighten in my chair. "What else?"

"Got a guy in their territory — runs numbers for both families. Says Luca's been meeting with some new faces."

Ray whistles low. "Expanding? That's a bold play."

"Makes sense though." Marco leans forward. "He's desperate to prove himself. New partnerships mean new muscle."

The others nod, processing this information. Marco's always had a knack for seeing the bigger picture - one of many reasons he's my right hand.

"Work your contacts," I tell him. "But keep it quiet. Last thing we need is the Mantiones catching wind we're asking questions."

"Already on it, boss. Got a few meetings set up tonight."

The meeting continues, but my thoughts keep drifting to Jazz. The sway of her hips as she works the floor of my club. That defiant spark in her eyes when she challenges me. The way her breath caught when I touched her earlier.

"You good, boss?" Marco's voice cuts through my distraction. "You went quiet there."

I wave off his concern. "Just considering angles. Speaking of which - increase security at the club. I want more guys on rotation."

Tony raises an eyebrow. "The club? You think they'll try that shit again?"

"They're stupid." I fix him with a hard stare. "Especially now they're desperate to prove themselves. I'm not taking chances."

"This about the new manager?" Ray asks, stubbing out his cigarette. "The one with the-"

"Choose your next words carefully." My voice drops low, a clear warning that makes Ray snap his mouth shut.

Marco shifts in his seat, drawing attention away from the tension. "I'll handle the club security personally. Already got eyes on some prospects who know how to be discreet."

"Good." I drum my fingers against the table again, an old habit when I'm strategizing. "And I want updates on anyone who comes through those doors. Especially if they're paying too much attention to my staff."

"Your staff? Or one staff member in particular?" Marco keeps his tone neutral, but I catch the knowing look in his eyes.

"Problem?"

He shakes his head. "No problem. Just making sure we're clear on priorities."

"The priorities," I lean forward, voice hard as steel, "are whatever I say they are. Jazz is off limits. Anyone even looks at her wrong, I want to know about it."

The room falls silent. They all know that tone — it's the same one I use before someone disappears permanently.

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