Page 62 of Secret Mafia Daddy

Dante huffs out a breath. “You promise you won’t fuck this up?”

I shrug. “Have I ever before?” I pause. “Don’t answer that.”

Dante laughs. “All right, Angelo, I’ll give you a real job. But it’s important.” He gestures upstairs with his head and I follow him into his office. He closes the door after him.

Dante never lets Mia worry about what’s going on with him and the business, and maybe it’s better that way. Mia grew up just like Catarina, in the life, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

Catarina is basically saying that I’m not good enough for her, that I’m just a thug, and so today, I’ll be a thug.

It’s a weird feeling, being heartbroken. I absolutely don’t like it. It feels like there’s some kind of void in my chest, some hole that feels so empty that I don’t know how to fill it.

Adrenaline has always worked at chasing away the dark thoughts before, so I hope it does the same now.

“What’s the job?”

“Claudio has friends in the Russian mob,” Dante says flatly, and I blink.

“Claudio? He seemed like such a pushover,” I say idly. He might have been a thief, but he did not look to be much more than that as I followed him around New York before I made an example out of him.

Dante’s face is serious. I know this means that the job is in New York, but I don’t mind traveling. Not tonight.

“Well, he was buddies with Dmitri Ivanov, and he’s out for blood. Word on the street is he’s plotting to come after me.”

I crack my knuckles. “Well, then, we’ll get to him first.”

“That’s the plan,” Dante agrees. “But you need to wait for Nico.”

I scoff. “I don’t need backup.”

“It’s the Russian mafia, Angelo. This isn’t like finding Claudio who was just a low-level thug with connections. They’re trained and dangerous.”

“So am I,” I argue, and Dante sighs.

“All right, listen. I’ll let you keep Nico on standby, but just because I know you need this. Just be careful, all right? Keep your eyes open.”

“Sure thing, capo,” I say, but I’m barely listening. I’m just ready to go.

Dante gives me a few of addresses where Dmitri might be.

Not waiting for Nico, I take Dante’s jet and get an unmarked car once I land. Nico can meet me here later if necessary, or I can just save him the trip and be done with this as fast as I can.

I scope a few of the addresses, and they turns out to be a bust. I waste hours going from one location to the next. I’m going off adrenaline alone at this point.

The sun has been up for a bit when I finally get a lead. At one of the locations, there’s some kid there named Antonio who allegedly has information.

“Hey, Antonio,” I say, after checking my phone to be sure that’s his name. “What’s good?”

He frowns, looking back over his shoulder where he’s been playing cards out by a coffee shop. He has a shit hand anyway.

“Angelo Bianchi,” I introduce myself, and he must recognize the name, because his eyes go wide and he scrambles for either his phone or a gun, I don’t know which.

I kick the back of his chair and it goes flying out from under him and he lands on his back with a wheeze.

I grimace. “Oops. Knocked the wind out of you, did I?” I say conversationally. I put my boot on his throat and he claws at my shoe. “Dmitri Ivanov. You know him?”

There’s a shock of recognition on his face even though he’s turning blue, and after he loses enough oxygen, he gasps out an address.

It happens to be different than the address that Dante gave me, so I call it a win.

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