Page 12 of Vanished in Vegas

“So, a kidnapper turned boss type of thing?” I chuckled just as the door opened. Vincent walked in.

“Hey, Boss,” Vincent said, closing the door. “You called for me?”

“Yep. Time to earn your keep.” I headed over to the door and opened it. “I’ll think on your coworker request, Flint.”

“Thanks, Boss!” Flint called out cheerfully as I stepped outside, closing the door behind me and sealing Manny’s fate.

Time for a sitdown.

CHAPTER SEVEN

SOFIA

The entire flight from Jersey to Vegas, I only had two thoughts. One was of the very sexy Antonio Berlusconi, who had haunted my dreams since the wedding. My second thought was how I was going to Vanish. Literally. There was no way in hell I was staying with Tino. I should have ratted his ass out years ago but I was trying to be a good daughter and spare my father the heartache of knowing exactly who his baby brother was.

Stupid ass,I cursed myself.But at least Rosaline doesn’t have to deal with this.

The plane had landed fifteen minutes ago, and we were finally deboarding. I walked down the long hallway towards my doom. The other passengers rushed by me, hurrying to catch their next plane or darting off to baggage claim. Either way, I stepped off to the side, allowing everyone and anyone to blaze past me.

“Maybe I should play some slots?” I looked at the slot machines that were a few feet from me. “Could kill some time.”

My phone decided to ring right then. I fished my phone out of my pocket. Reading the name on the screen, I groaned as I answered the call.

“Hi, Papa,” I replied, walking past the slot machines.

“You landed. Why didn’t you call or text me?” His tone was flat. I hadn’t even been in Vegas for an hour and already he was upset with me.

“They just let us off the plane.”

“You could have turned on your phone once you landed,” he informed me.

I could inform him of the F.C.C. rules on cell phones, but it would be pointless. He was used to getting his way. Whatever facts I retorted with, he’d simply deny them then argue more.

“Yes, Papa.” I bit back a groan.

“Are you at baggage claim yet?”

Yes, I flew there. I just told you I just left the damn plane.

“Almost,” I said, picking up my step.

“Hurry. I don’t want you walking around by yourself. I should have had Carlo fly with you.”

“Papa, I’m fine. I’m almost to baggage claim.”

“Affrettatevi,” he growled.

Hurry up, I repeated in English and rolled my eyes.

“Di fretta, Papa.”

I am…You impatient ass.

“Go to baggage claim. Tino’s men will be waiting for you. Get your luggage after you are with them. Capisci?”

“Capisco.”

“Ciao,” he said, ending the call before I could respond.

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