Page 21 of Mafia King: Matteo
In essence, we have a walking money machine. He knows when to lay off bets and knows every client on the island. He maintains a low profile and causes me no grief—or so I assume.
Have things changed?
I turn to Gio.
“What the fuck? How did the Russians find out what we were buying? It’s a huge fucking city. It’s an attempt by someone to make me look bad.” This building is under construction, and I pass a fold-up chair as we leave. I kick a random folding chair in anger. It sails through the chilly air only to crash with the sounds of cheap metal to console me.
“We’ll figure it out. We always do. Wu might have been fucking you over. He knows anyone connected would pay over what it’s worth to fuck you. It could have been someone who followed your old man. Maybe someone overheard him, or one of your uncles sold us out.”
“You’re right. We’re where we are now. I need to do damage control.”
My phone rings. It’s a guard tasked with Angelica.
“I have information for you. Her name is Alena Pasnov. She’s Russian. Her father is the consigliere to Alexsei Sidovo—of the Russian bratva.”
“Thank you, Leo. You’ve been most helpful.”
I turn to Gio.
“I think I found a way to even things with the Russians.”
My lips curl into a rare smile. Not only is Alena someone, but she will be my someone, and it will keep her father in line. Men who piss me off have a debt to pay.
CHAPTER 8
ALENA
I’m breathless by the time I make it into my condo. How did Mr. Grey know where I was? Do men hang out in the parking lot of a woman’s designer store to wait for them? No man does that unless he wants points or, realistically—sex. Unless he has the makings of a stalker.
Do I believe in coincidence?
No. The fact that my mystery man knew where I could be found is a concern. However, I also find it thrilling. If he’s following me, then he likes me. We definitely have a strong attraction to each other. I’m just not sure it will evolve into anything more than steamy sex.
I should call my father. I’ve always called him when something felt off. But he would put me under house arrest to keep me safe. I’m sure I’m overreacting.
Izzy is right. I need to call Kirill. He is a trusted friend, and he can be discreet. There’s not much information I can provide him. The limo is probably leased, and I was too busy fucking Mr. Grey to get the license plate.
I drop my shopping bags inside the condo and toss my coat on the couch.
Perhaps Madame M’s computer can be hacked. She must own one to keep records of all the patrons of the sex club. She loves the roaring ‘20s, but certainly, she’s using the 21st century to run her business—I hope.
Kirill is a great hacker. Unfortunately, Tito is gone after Don’s wife bought his loyalty. Kirill knows all the players inside the bratva. He also has access to the legit businesses and players we exploit for our gain. It may be a council member we need to vote in for a contract to be approved. Or, the favor might be as simple as a variance on a building. We always need those to add additional floors to an apartment complex or office building. Sometimes, the family needs an invitation to a social function that allows my father, or the Don, to have access to a judge we need to get a legal case dropped or deliver a bribe.
These wheels need to stay greased to make our organization function. I’m not privy to the nitty-gritty details of how it gets accomplished. As Mom always says, the less we know, the safer we will be.
But is that true? The Don had to execute his wife for her betrayal of him. I cringe to think of what it’s like being married to anyone who would screw over their partner so ruthlessly.
I text Kirill, and he agrees to meet for drinks later. He’s picking me up in his new sports car. I’m not surprised. He’s such a showboat. If he could pick his occupation, he’d choose to be a Formula 1 race car driver.
I undressed, putting my boots on the closet shelf. I walk to the bathroom to take a shower. As I pass the mirror over the sink, I notice hickey marks on my neck.
I should be pissed that he marred my alabaster skin but instead I’m glad to have the bruises as a visual reminder of his passion. It means he’s real, even if I don’t know who he is. Besides, it’s not every day a woman gets fucked by the most fuckable man in the city. Sex in a limo was a first for me, and the thrill of being caught added to the excitement.
We’ve carried the anonymous charade off effortlessly at the sex club. But what was fun in the beginning is now wearing on me. Who is this mystery man, and why is it such a mystery? He could be nobody. He could be somebody.
I’m not sure what to think of Mr. Grey. What was he referring to when he mentioned I might not like him at night? Is he a monster? The only monster I can think of is blue and in a children’s movie that’s as old as me.
I turn on the water and undress while I wait for it to warm. Thank goodness my dad put in an expensive heat-on-demand unit when he remodeled this unit for me. In older buildings like this, getting hot water in winter can take forever.
