Page 11 of Bossy Ex's Brother

His face flushed with embarrassment, and he winced in pain as he pushed himself up to a sitting position, avoiding my eyes.

“Idiot,” I cursed, then gestured to Brandon to get them together.

“We let them get off too easy,” my third-in-command, Roman, complained. “We should have at least left some marks on their faces.”

“It wasn’t necessary.”

“It was,” he argued defiantly. “What if they think we’re weak?”

“They already do, thanks to these morons,” I gestured to the idiots on the ground. “It wasn’t worth it.”

“But—”

“Are you challenging me?” I stepped up to him, the threat clear in my voice. Being the head of the Coppola mafia was like being a zookeeper in charge of ferocious lions. It was important to continue to establish my dominance over them. “Because if you are, this would be the perfect time to say so.”

At this, Roman’s expression shifted, and he replied, “No, I’m not challenging you.”

“Good. Because you would be a dumbass to start a fight in an area that we’re not familiar with where there might be cops crawling around. Or did you not think of that?”

His lips tightened. He clearly hadn’t, which was why I was the boss.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here before someone tips off the pigs,” I said, heading toward the car, hoping I could finally get everything done so I could get some sleep.

But there was no peace to be had that day.

Because the minute I strode back into the office, I was confronted by another problem, or rather, the same one that had been on my mind when I left.

Jane was in my office, and she looked desperate.

“I need your help,” she said.

FIVE

JANE

When I find Beth, I’m going to kill her.

After handing cash to the driver, I hopped out of the Uber before running toward the crowd in front of the lofty building with the neon sign that read ‘Club Onyx.’ Panic increased the closer I got. There was no way I was getting to the front without a fight or a miracle. There was already a line that extended into the streets.

Two girls were already getting into an argument at the back of the line while their boyfriends looked on in amusement. I only stood there for a few seconds until I determined the line wasn’t moving fast enough for my liking. I didn’t want to be standing here for long, either. Anything could happen in this neighborhood, and with a crowd this size, you never knew who you were standing next to.

I needed to get to the front.

It wouldn’t be easy, but that didn’t matter. I was willing to fight an entire mob to get Bethany out of there.

And then I would kick her ass once I was done.

I kept an eye out as I slowly began inching my way forward, trying to pretend like I wasn’t doing what I was doing. There was a little bit of space surrounding the main queue at the sideswhere people were just standing around. And the people did look dangerous with their ripped clothes and dark expressions. Someone was holding up some white dust on a piece of paper that I didn’t even want to look too closely at. I simply weaved through the spaces and ignored anyone calling out to me. The further I moved, the more my anxiety climbed.

I finally got to the human thicket in front and fought my way through the throng, taking a few shoves and elbows and calls of “bitch” from the people I crossed.

One of them grabbed my arm, and I yanked it away just as I got to the front and met the stone-faced bouncer who crossed his arms over his chest, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“Nice try,” he scoffed. “Back of the line.”

“I’m not trying to get in,” I explained. “I’m trying to get someone out. My sister Bethany. About medium height, brunette, and probably wearing stockings, a miniskirt, and a ripped-up shirt from some band nobody else has heard of.”

The bouncer raised an eyebrow at me and then gestured to the crowd. I instantly got his meaning. My description was too vague and could have defined just about everyone standing here.

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