He hung up without another word. Less than a minute later, a text with an address popped up on the screen.
I finished my beer, then headed to my SUV and put the address into my navigation system. One of the fanciest hotels in Manhattan displayed as my destination.
I started driving, hoping I wasn’t going to be dealing with a dead mistress. It wouldn’t be the first time, but I didn’t like cleans that involved women.
But in my line of work, saying no wasn’t an option. Unless you wanted to become a clean yourself.
When I arrived, I parked in the attached parking garage. I texted Domenic for the room number, and when he replied, I wasn’t surprised it was the penthouse suite.
I grabbed the suitcase that I kept all my supplies in and wheeled it behind me as I headed to the hotel entrance. I’d been to many luxury hotels for cleans, but the one I was entering was definitely the nicest I’d been to. One night was easily a couple grand based on the opulent decor and furniture in the lobby. White marble floors, lamps and chandeliers likely crafted from twenty-four karat gold, and Italian leather sofas greeted guests as they walked in.
When I reached the penthouse suite, I exited the elevator and slipped on some gloves before knocking on the door. A few seconds later, the door opened to Domenic and two men that I assumed were his bodyguards. “Hey, Mr. Genovese, what can I do for you?”
“Enzo, thank you for coming so quickly. I always appreciate your punctuality and discretion.” He extended his hand, and we exchanged a firm handshake. “And I’m afraid this is going to require the utmost discretion.”
I raised my brows as he let go of my hand and gestured for me to enter. “Come in.”
I followed the men into the suite and through the living area, down a hallway into a bedroom. And on the floor lay Luca Sorello, the son of another mob boss.
Oh, shit.
“By the look on your face, I think you understand why I said this requires the utmost discretion,” Domenic stated.
I nodded. I had so many questions, but I was paid not to ask questions.
“Can I count on you to take care of this for me?”
My stomach clenched. I had to be extremely careful so that my involvement wasn’t discovered by the Sorellos. I cleaned up feuds between rival mobs all the time, but this one was definitely the most notorious. The Genevoses and Sorellos were two of the top three Italian mob families in New York City, and there was no way this wouldn’t lead to a war between them.
I nodded. “Of course.”
He clapped his hands. “Great.”
“Dad?”
Domenic turned toward the sound of the voice. “Hey,Piccola,how are you feeling?”
There was a young woman in the doorway across the hall. She had similar features to her father, but softer; same brown hair and olive skin, as well as the same striking eyes that commanded your attention.
“Better. Who is this?” she asked, directing her attention to me.
Domenic glanced over at me and clapped me on the shoulder. “This is Enzo. He’s my wolf.”
“Wolf?” she asked, her brows furrowing.
Domenic chuckled and I smirked. “He takes care of these types of problems with discretion and makes them disappear.”
The woman scoffed. “Dad, this isn’t some random guy. This is Luca Sorello. There’s no way to make this disappear.”
Domenic went over to his daughter and lightly grasped her upper arms. “I have a plan.”
She arched a brow. “What plan?” Her eyes were wide and frantic, pleading with her father for answers.
“Let’s sit down,” he said, guiding her to the couch.
I felt a little awkward listening to their conversation, and wanted to get started. “I’m going to get to work,” I stated.
“Good. Come back in here when you’re finished,” Domenic instructed.
