Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 59176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“Good, because I plan to take you back to the hotel and fuck you blind.”
My mouth opens and closes. I’m not sure what in the hell to say to that.
But when we step outside, four men suddenly surround us, all with weapons drawn.
“The boss wants to see you. Get in the car.”
I sigh and frown at all four of them. “What in the hell is it with the Sergi organization and guns? Can’t you just ask a girl nicely?”
“Let’s go,” the goon says, ignoring my statement altogether. “You can complain about how we do things to the boss.”
Chapter 8
~Carmine~
“You do realize that it’s not necessary to hold us at gunpoint to get us into your office.” My voice is dry as I sit across from Mick and narrow my eyes at him. “We’re happy to come in willingly.”
Mick smiles, but his eyes aren’t full of humor.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I just stare back at him until he looks down at the papers on his desk. “I’ve done some asking around, some talking, and I’m afraid I don’t know much more than you do.”
“But you know something.”
Mick leans back in his chair and folds his beefy hands over his impressive stomach. When you think of the stereotypical mob boss, Mick is the image that comes to most minds. He’s a big man—in both stature and weight. He’s imposing.
“Turns out, someone approached one of my men about selling something new here in the city.”
I sit forward. “A new drug?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know who did the approaching. Or what kind of drug.”
I scowl. “Come on, Mick, you know everything that goes on in New York.”
The other man’s eyes flash with anger. “I thought I did. And trust me when I say that I’d be happy to drag my man in here to interrogate him myself.”
“Then do it.”
“He’s fucking dead.”
“Goddamn it.” I rub my hand over my mouth. “How did he die?”
“I was at that wedding,” Mick reminds me. “My man has been dead for a few days, but it looks like he met the same fate your father’s man did.”
“Poison,” Nadia murmurs beside me. “Are they trying to sell poison? Why would anyone take it if the result is death?”
“I don’t think it’s the poison they want to sell,” Mick says. “There’ve been rumblings of something new on the streets. Something damn powerful, addictive, and cheap to make.”
“Hell, you just described meth,” Carmine says.
“I’m not a fan of drugs,” Mick replies. “I know some of my guys sell a little here and there, but that’s not my game. And they know it. My hunch is that my guy told the stranger no, and that answer wasn’t the right one. I have no way of knowing who it was that approached him.”
“His cell?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Gone.” Mick hisses out a breath. “Listen, this doesn’t sit well with me, either. Someone came, unannounced, into my city and killed my man. I’m damn pissed.”
“I know the feeling.” I stare at Mick. “What now?”
“I’ll keep asking,” Mick says. “You keep me posted, as well. Someone’s going to pay for this.”
“On that, we can agree. I’ll keep you informed when and if we find anything. I appreciate you working with us on this, rather than against us.”
“It seems someone has decided to wage war with several organizations,” Mick says thoughtfully. “They’re either very brave or out of their fucking minds.”
“Maybe both,” Nadia adds, and Mick’s eyes slide over to her for the first time.
“We’ll stay in touch,” Mick says again, dismissing us.
“Thanks for your time.” We stand, and before I can walk away, Mick says my name.
“Carmine. Watch your back. This has conspiracy written all over it.”
“Same to you.”
* * *
“I guess this was a wasted trip,” Nadia says as she flops onto the sofa in our suite.
“Not at all.”
I sit next to her and lift her feet into my lap. “We had a good few days here. And although it’s not the information we were hoping for, we at least know it’s not Mick.”
“He could be lying.”
I stare at her pink-tipped toes as I push my thumb into the arch of her foot. “I don’t think so. He’s pissed.”
“What now?”
I’ve been running that question through my mind since we left Mick’s office. “I think we need to go back to the city where this all started.”
“Denver.”
I nod and reach out to brush her hair behind her ear just as my phone rings.
“Hi, Shane.”
“Hey, what did you find out from Mick?”
I relay the information and hear my brother curse on the other end of the line. “Yeah, that was my thought, exactly.”
“This is a game for someone,” Shane says. “They’re fucking playing with us. But why? What’s the end game?”
“That’s the million-dollar question,” I reply. “Nadia and I are headed to Denver first thing in the morning. I think we need to do some digging there.”