Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“I can handle this.”
He works his jaw, thinking this over. “And by ‘handle this,’ what exactly do you mean?”
His voice hardens, the voice of our mafia overlord who takes shit from no one. “Find her. Punish her for stealing from us, and make it clear that won’t happen again.” I swallow hard. “Interrogate her. I can do everything you can, but it’ll probably go faster because we already have a history.”
Romeo makes a sound of disapproval and looks to Tavi, then Orlando. Orlando shrugs, and Tavi nods his head. “He can do it. I believe he could.”
Romeo finally nods. “Do it, Mario. Here’s your chance at redemption. Seduce the fuck out of her, and do it well, and we’ll exonerate you. Hell,” he says with a slow smile. “Might even consider giving you a raise.”
“Hey,” Tavi says. “He already makes more than the fuckin’ President of the United States.”
“Have you seen the taste this kid’s got in cars?” Romeo retorts.
I shake my head. I love these motherfuckers.
“Alright,” I say, standing up. “Need some shit before I get her.”
“You’re the man that does IDs. Get yourself a new license.” He jerks his head to Orlando. “Ask Santo to get a car ready, Orlando, and make sure he’s got cash and a new phone.”
My brothers stand to let me out. I draw in a breath and let it out again.
I feel as if I’ve been given a second chance at life, another opportunity to do things right.
But that’s not the only reason a part of me’s excited.
I’ve been commanded to see her again. My job is to find her. Soon… by sunset tonight… I’ll have that woman in my arms again whether she likes it or not.
Right before I punish her for what she’s done. She enjoyed herself last night. That won’t be the case this time.
An hour later, I’ve got my new license, a wallet filled with cash, a new cell phone, and various weapons hidden on my person. I’m not going to use them against her, but who knows what I’ll come up against in my mission to find her.
But before I go, I pull out my laptop, and with a few master keystrokes, half an hour later have a detailed list of every woman that buried her mother in the past twenty-four hours in Greater Boston. It started out as a pretty substantial list, but after narrowing it down to females with daughters, the list is more manageable. My aim is to peruse it well. She was not outside of Boston and just yesterday she went to a funeral. It’ll help.
I need to redeem my name. I need to earn my brothers’ respect.
Seduce the fuck out of her, and do it well, and we’ll exonerate you.
I’ve got a fuckin’ mission.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Emma
I’ve basically scoured Boston and the North Shore to find out everything I can about Mario. It isn’t hard work. He hasn’t hidden anything.
And what I’ve found has led me straight to the dankest, darkest, dirtiest sex club in all of Boston. This is not the club that you’d find in a tourist guide. In fact, I shouldn’t even be in here because clubs like this are strictly illegal in Boston and it could cost me my job.
I’m doing this for a cause, though, I tell myself. If I can get on good terms with Mario, then I can… I can fulfill my mission. My goal. My altruistic purpose.
After a full day’s work, I checked in on the reports, got the interview questions I needed answered, and silenced the inner voice in my head that chided me for phoning things in. Boston’s most notorious organized crime ring has basically fallen straight into my lap, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let anything stop me from bringing them down.
I check my reflection in the rearview mirror. Makeup simple yet bold, enough to make me look like I fit in here, but hopefully nothing that will call attention to myself. There’s only one set of eyes I need drawn to me.
I intentionally parked several blocks away. Detectives in the CID unit are allowed and often encouraged to go undercover, but this isn’t authorized. Another reason I could lose my job.
My hands tremble as I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. I went for casual-sexy, yet seductive—hair in a messy bun with little wisps near my temples, large silver hoops, a bodycon dress that kisses my curves and accentuates my breasts. I pull a travel size atomizer out of my bag and quickly spritz perfume on my wrists and throat.
Go for your pulse points. The heat of your body will diffuse the scent.
The only thing my mother ever taught me.
I purse my lips and practice the pouty look I’ll give him when he confronts me for stealing from him. A dim part of my mind suggests what I won’t give actual voice to.