Page 77 of Sexted By a Stranger
"Boss. Miss Stella is missing."
"What?"Ragnar spoke at breakneck speed, each word hitting my heart like a bullet. "Miss Stella went shopping, entered the fitting room at a store named Muse. We were standing guard outside, no unusual sounds. Time dragged on, William felt something was wrong, knocked with no answer, forced the door—she was gone. Found a small piece of ether-soaked gauze in the corner of the fitting room."
"Find her!" A roar erupted from deep in my throat, so violent it made the heavy curtains in the study tremble. Ragnar was forced back half a step by the killing intent.
Lennox was about to enter when he heard the news. His expression flashed with shock, then his face turned iron-gray.
"I'll look into it."
"Boss." Lennox came back after one hour. "The back alley surveillance caught it. A black Suburban with fake plates. Ourtracking system cross-referenced all intersection cameras along the route and caught a brief glimpse of the real license number. The vehicle's final trajectory disappeared in the direction of—" His finger jabbed heavily at the screen. "The Celestial."
"Also, Muse. A clothing store that opened two weeks ago. Our guys just grabbed the manager—she met with an inside source from the design exhibition two days ago. The dress Miss Stella had her eye on was only put in the window yesterday. They knew she'd choose it for sure."
Celestial. Connor.
That damned, lingering Irish bastard!
"Very well." I laughed bitterly in my rage. "Seems he can't wait to die."
I yanked off the tie that was nearly choking me. This is it," I barked the order. "Round up every available man in New York, now."
In less than an hour, the Soprano family's elite forces stood in formation in the manor's front courtyard.
I walked straight to the lead car and pulled open the rear door, then froze.
From the direction of Sheila's studio, behind that tightly closed door, I could almost still smell the faint sweetness of her perfume, see her focused profile as she bent over her drawings, sunlight falling on her chestnut hair… The thought of her possibly bound in some dark, damp corner right now, those amber eyes filled with terror, the thought of Connor's repulsive face possibly approaching her…
"Boss," Lennox broke the silence. "Sniper team is in position, led by Hawkeye. Angelo's in, too."
I pressed the comms button. A gritty Sicilian voice rasped, "Bellomo! Mio vecchio amico! Calling this late—got good business for us?"
"Connor Murphy. Lennox is sending you a list of all his Brooklyn and Queens strongholds, even his Irish stronghold. Anything valuable, anything movable—it's your haul. I only want Connor and his inner circle." My knuckles whitened on the desk. "When tonight ends, make sure his operation is erased from this earth."
The line crackled with dark laughter. "Ha! So the Irish mad dog finally bit the wrong master? What's my other benefit? Can't make my boys run errands for free."
"A year ago, that shipment of yours—he worked with the Genoveses to fuck you over."
"Shit!" Marcello exploded in fury. "That fucking maggot! Bastard! Luca, however you want to play this, I'm with you."
I nodded to Lennox, who tapped his fingers to send the intel.
"Deal. My men will move within half an hour. I guarantee his rat hole will be rubble before dawn. Happy hunting, Luca."
The comm cut out abruptly.
I watched the increasingly close, massive neon sign of the Celestial ahead. "Ragnar, notify Hawkeye—I want every inch within five hundred meters of the Celestial covered with our people. Not even a fly gets out. Connor leaves his life here tonight."
"Also, have your most elite assault team pose as reinforcements returning to base. One objective only—find Sheila, ensure her safety at any cost."
"Understood."
Thinking of her possible fear and helplessness right now, thinking of what Connor might be doing to her… the killing intent nearly burst through my skull.
I forced myself to stay calm. Right now, the slightest error in judgment could push her toward irreversible doom.
The convoy stopped one block away from the Celestial.
I pushed open the car door, wind whipping the hem of my black coat.
