Page 33 of Shackled By the Mafia Boss

Then another appears before I’ve had time to let the message sink in.

Private Number: STAY AWAY FROM THE ROMANO FAMILY OR DIE! I AM WATCHING YOU

I double over and fall to my knees. My hands won’t stop shaking and my chest is tight. Where has all the oxygen gone?

I can’t breathe.

Someone is watching me. Someone knows I was with Marcus last night in my apartment. And I have no freaking idea who it is.

Clutching my chest, I try to take deep breaths but it doesn’t work. Stars shimmer behind my closed eyes and I think I’m going to pass out.

Someone is stalking me.

Chapter Eight

Marcus

“Where the hell have you been?” Antonio asks as I step into the living room of my penthouse. He downs an entire bottle of beer in one gulp. Slamming the now empty bottle on the coffee table in my living room, he belches and swipes a hand over his mouth.

I slouch on the dark-grey sofa across from him, my brows knitting together in annoyance. “I told you not to drink in my goddamn living room. How the hell did you even get in?”

He shrugs. “I guessed your password.”

“How could you guess that?”

“You’re bad with remembering passwords. Four zeros and one try is all it took for me to get in.”

Great, now I’ve got to add a nine at the end of the zeros. “Get lost.”

“Not before I tell you this.” The leather sofa creaks under his weight as he moves and straightens his back. “Two of our men went missing.”

I sit up, linking my hands together. “What the hell did you just say?”

“Two of our men went missing last night, their bodies were found dumped this morning and your brother is losing his mind.”

My fists clench. “How did that happen?”

“No one knows, but things are not looking good for us right now.” He pauses, cracks his fingers. “The police got a warrant to search the hotel in Hudson Yards. For some reason, they seem to be convinced we have illegal businesses.”

“Did they find anything?”

He shakes his head. “No. But they’ll find something if they keep sticking their fucking noses where they don’t belong.”

“We can’t do anything now. Murdering a cop while an investigation is ongoing won’t be in our best interest. And you know the rules, we don’t kill innocent people.”

Antonio looks like he wants to argue; challenge the rules. But he knows better. My brother—the Capo, makes all the rules and decisions. Going against him is like plunging a sword into your own body. You’re dead either way.

“What are we going to do now?”

“Find out why the police are on our tails to begin with. Tell the boys to be here in ten minutes and have Igor warm up my S.U.V.”

Antonio nods. “Yes, Chief.”

I stand and run up the stairs to my bedroom. I take a quick shower and change into a clean pair of black denims and black, long-sleeve, turtleneck sweater, then I throw on a leather jacket. Grabbing a key from the glass display of car keys in my closet, I leave the room.

Antonio has cleared the bottles off the living room table when I return downstairs. “Ready to go, Chief?”

I throw the key to him. “Yeah.”

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