Page 19 of A Mafia's Treasure

Turning to face him, I shrug and salute him.

I pull my phone from my purse, cursing myself that I have wine inside my bag because I didn’t empty the glass properly … as if I want to go fucking bag shopping!

Finding Tony’s number, I press call, and he answers on the first ring.

“Are you fucking serious, Frankie,” he shouts.

“Hey, Tony, how are you?” I ask sarcastically.

“Can you tell me why O’Connor’s body is splattered all over the sidewalk in midtown.”

“You want to talk about this over the phone?” I ask.

“Frankie!”

“Fine, I did what you asked. I don’t know what you're shouting at me for? I was just about to text the boss.”

“It was supposed to be natural causes, Frankie. Now his brother will want to investigate this, and there’s no way they’ll take this as a suicide,” he rants.

“What … hediddie of natural causes,” I tell him.

“You pushed him from the top of a fucking bar, Frankie, how is that natural causes?” I hear him bang what sounds like the leather of his steering wheel.

“Gravity,” I tell him simply.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” He sighs.

“No, gravity is natural, and I did it my way. You’ll have to trust me on this one. No one will look into his death,” I tell him confidently.

“Jesus, Frankie!” I can see it now, and I bet his face is getting redder and redder.

“Look, the target was banging on all night about his brother, how he never takes him seriously, so I just simply took his phone and sent a farewell message. Trust me, they won’t be looking.” I sigh. “You know what, Tony, I’m getting really pissed that you feel the need for me to explain what I’m doing. I’m solid, reliable, and most of all, the job gets done cleanly. Why aren’t you riding the other guys’ asses about the jobs they go on?” I shout.

“Look, this one was important. I shouldn’t doubt you, but you’ve never worked for us before. We have to find a rhythm.” He seems to have calmed down but I haven’t.

“I have stuff to do, catch you tomorrow.” I cut the call before he can.

Before I get to the actual message I’ve been dying to send all night, I pull up the boss man’s number and send a text.

Me: Done.

I wait for a few minutes and nothing. I hear a ping from my phone but it’s my banking app not a message.

Jesus fucking Christ … how much! So, the guy doesn’t respond to messages, but he pays well.

He is obviously happy with what went down tonight otherwise he wouldn’t have paid.

I smile to myself and want to call Tony back to tell him I was right, but I have more important things to do or someone more important to do right now.

My fingers type quickly over the screen to let Nicolas know that tonight I’ll be heading to the club and should be there in the next half an hour.

I’m surprised to get a response almost instantly, telling me that the room’s booked and he will be there as soon as he can.

Reading his message causes a flutter in my tummy, and the adrenaline from tonight has me even more worked up than my usual sparring sessions but seeing his response and knowing what he can do has me hailing a cab rather than taking the subway. A stupid move I feel. I didn’t want to have anything that could link me being close to the bar tonight, but as soon as I knew he’d be there I couldn’t wait. I needed to get across town.

With my head down, I ask to go to the diner on the corner close to the club, it’s something at least … a girl can only try. I have a man I could only ever dream about coming to meet me, so I’ll allow myself the momentary loss of common sense.

Handing the driver some cash, I get out and head to the club. Waiting in line to check-in is the most annoying part, but I must speak to Tony. There has to be some way to speed this process up … If only there was something like the internet so we could do an online check-in,I mean we are in the 21st Century for fuck’s sake!

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