Page 10 of My Mafia Queen

“She’s a maid.”

“Uh-huh.”

“The women keep in touch. That’s how she found out Boris had cheated on her. She confronted him, and he dumped her.”

“She was lucky she didn’t get killed.”

“She knows that, but she doesn’t care. She hates him.”

“Why did she come to you?”

“She didn’t come to me. We talked. She’s not familiar with what’s going on here. She knows who you are. She also knows you’re big. She’d heard Boris talking about you several times.”

A bad feeling rams through me, although, frankly, these thugs talking is hardly news to me.

“Who did he talk to?”

“Some fucker in New York.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And then the FBI.”

My eyebrows flick up.

“That’s what she said,” he murmurs in response to my expression.

“When was that?”

“Two days ago.”

Huh.

So, Boris knew.

He knew he’d set me up when he came to the casino.

“What did they talk about?”

“She doesn’t know.”

“Did they talk on the phone?”

“Yes. They did once, and then they met.”

I ponder for a second, trying to find a crack in the man’s story.

“What were you doing at his hotel?”

He sighs.

“She said she wasn’t surprised the FBI had come here. And she was convinced her friend could know more about what had gone wrong.”

I rub a hand over my face, annoyed.

“And you thought going over there was a good idea?” I mutter. “Why didn’t you come to me?”

“I didn’t think much.”

---