Page 51 of Devious Secrets

He shifts his gaze to where my hand has his wrist captured. It’s not like he can’t just take his arm back, but that’s not how Alexander works. He can take, but he’d rather I give.

“You may not be the Italian mob, but you’re still mafia,” I whisper, releasing his wrist.

He stands up to his full height and stares down at me for a beat before he turns to go to his desk. It’s only a moment, but even a moment pinned by his focused gaze slows time.

When he comes back, my cell phone is cradled in his palm.

“Check for her message.” He hands it to me.

I’m not looking a gift mobster in the mouth, so I grab it and immediately scroll the notifications.

There are a few texts from the girls at work,, wondering what happened and why I quit.

I didn’t quit, but I’ll deal with that later.

There is nothing from Mira, so I open my email app. Other than junk emails, there’s nothing.

The heaviness returns to my chest.

“Nothing. She’s supposed to send proof of life every other week.” I pull up the messaging app and open her last message. “She doesn’t use her phone, so the number is always different. But I know it’s her because she uses the little black heart emoji.”

He takes the phone back from me and looks over her last text.

“And this last message was like the others?”

“Yeah. Well, for the most part. I usually send her back a message letting her know things on my end are okay, and she responds, but she didn’t respond last time.”

He starts scrolling through my messages, probably finding all the ones with that emoji.

“This last one was different. Shorter than the others.”

“I just figured she was busy or something. But now… maybe Marco got a hold of her.”

“When you only made half the payment last month, what did he say? Did he mention her?”

“Yes. He said if I didn’t have that half plus this month’s, then he’d have to start turning over rocks to find her. Or something like that, he’s not very articulate.” He gets his message across just fine, though. I’ve never not understood our lives were at stake.

“Do you have a picture of her on your phone?” He taps the screen and starts scrolling through the camera roll. He turns the phone to me after he finds something. “This her?”

It’s a picture of Mira and me at a retirement party for one of the guys at work.

“Yeah. Her hair’s probably longer now, if she didn’t cut it. That picture was taken last April. Just before it all happened.”

“And that’s Nico?” He points to Mira’s boyfriend sitting in the background of the photo.

“That’s him.” I nod. I reach for my phone when he starts swiping and tapping away. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sending the pictures to my phone.”

“Why?”

“Because.” He takes the phone back to his desk and puts it away in the top drawer. I suppose it doesn’t matter if I know where it is; it’s not like I can get into this room without his key.

“Now.” He comes back to the couch, leaning over and grabbing my chin. His eyes have darkened. The glimpse of a man who might actually sympathize with my situation is long gone.

Alexander the mobster is back.

“The drive. What did Marco say about the drive? Tell me everything, Megan. No more hiding things or lying.”

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