Page 96 of My Mafia King

“But that’s my phone,” I protest, all kinds of scenarios playing in my head.

What if he figures out the numbers that I called, and that puts the people back home at risk.

Jen.

Tina.

My aunt.

Jen just left her house to get away from Beau.

“What’s up with your phone, sweetheart?” the Russian says, erasing the space between us.

Damaso loses his patience and snatches it up from his hand.

He opens it up in front of him.

“There’s nothing in it,” he says, his patience running thin.

He opens his hand and places everything in the Russian’s palm.

I bite back another protest.

I so hate these people.

Eventually, the man walks out, and Damaso grabs me by the elbow and drags me out of the safe–deposit box room.

We enter the main room, he crashes his fist against the wall, and just like that, the bookcase slides closed.

By then, it’s only us in the room, and voices echo outside, some moving away.

Vito enters the room before I have the chance to pull away from Damaso, who doesn’t even look my way.

“Show her out,” Damaso says.

It sounds like I’m fired.

Forget about lodging a complaint about my phone.

It sounds like I need to start packing.

And I should probably consider myself lucky.

I could’ve been in the Russian’s car just about now.

“No,” Damaso says, changing his mind, the new thought making him squeeze my arm even harder.

His tight grip makes me think the new thought is not that good.

There’s tension and a lot of anger in his hand.

“Take her to my suite,” he says. “And have someone bring her things up. Set up the guest room for her. She’s one of us now. If I’m not around, she’s your responsibility. And Louie’s. And Gianni’s. And so on. You…” He looks at me. “Go with him,” he orders before letting go of me.

“What about the money?” Vito asks, and I’m sure he’s talking about the money Damaso has shelled out to keep me here.

“Don’t worry about the money,” Salla says, a frown marring his brow. “He’ll gamble it all tonight, and we’ll get it back.”

“That’s it?” Vito asks.

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