Page 71 of Craving Danger

Lorenzo was always the quiet one between the two, but since his death his silence hangs heavy around us.

Placing my hand on Milo’s shoulder, I give him a squeeze. “Thank you.”

“We’re heading to the truckyard,” Marcelo informs him.

The burner phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out. Opening the message from Samantha, the corner of my mouth lifts.

Samantha: My mom just whacked my dad with a spatula. Just so you know, I take after her.

MMM: You’re telling me I should hide all the spatulas?

Samantha: Just giving you time to back out.

MMM: Never.

Samantha: I have a question.

MMM: What?

Samantha: So there are security cameras in all the rooms atParadiso. Does that mean you watch people having sex?

MMM: I go out of my way to avoid it and have employees who take care of that part of the business.

Samantha: Shoot. Here I was, hoping you have some juicy stories to tell me.

As the smile on my face widens, I glance at Marcello as he walks to the guest house where I keep my stash of weapons in an underground armory.

There’s also an entrance into the armory from my office in the main house, which doubles as an escape route.

The phone vibrates in my hand again, drawing my attention back to my conversation with my girlfriend.

I’m taking advantage of calling her that before she finds out who I am and dumps my ass.

Samantha: Just kidding. I have to go and save my dad from my mom.

MMM: Talk to you later, baby.

When I tuck the device back into my pocket, Marcello comes walking toward me with an armored vest. He hands it to me, saying, “Just in case there’s another attack.”

I take the vest from him and shrug it on. While I adjust it around my chest, I head to the sliding doors. “Give me five minutes then we’ll leave.”

“We’ll be at the G-Wagon,” he replies before walking to where Milo is having a smoke break.

I go into the house and find Renzo breathing over Dario’s shoulder for once.

“I’m heading out,” I inform them.

Renzo’s head snaps up. “Where to?”

“The truckyard. I have a shipment of cash going to Castro and Diaz. It can’t wait. I need the medical equipment.”

“I’ll tag along,” he says.

Not bothering to argue, I nod and head back outside.

“Marcello, grab an armored vest for Renzo,” I say when I reach the men.

Milo finishes the cigarette, and pulling his gun from behind his back, where he keeps it tucked into the waistband of his pants, he checks the clip.

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