“Yes, boss.”
He hangs up, and I sigh, rubbing my hand over my face.
I’m quite sure that piece-of-shit Deluca paid Loveland off. She’s lucky I didn’t take her to the cell and interrogate her.
And I’m glad she’s gone.
Just as I’m about to head back upstairs, my phone rings with a call from an unknown number.
“Alexander,” I growl into the device.
“Have you found my daughter?”
This motherfucker.
She’s asleep in my bed, and I fucked her six ways to Sunday less than a half dozen hours ago.
“No,” I reply, clipped. “My men haven’t seen her.”
“It’s been more than a week since I asked you to handle it,” he barks.
“Have you forgotten who you’re speaking to?”
Rizzo clears his throat. “I’m sure she’s in Vegas. I want her home. If your men can’t find her, I’ll send my own.”
“If any of your men set foot in my city, I’ll execute them.”
“You’ll never find them,” he says. “They’ll be in and out.”
“Don’t fucking push me, you sack of shit,” I snap, but my voice is bland. “You’re lucky we didn’t kill you when you paid Julian back. I told you we’d be on the lookout for your kid, and if we see her, you’ll be contacted.”
I hang up and take a breath.
I can’t wait to fucking kill him.
Forty-One
LULU
Ouch.
I moan as I turn over in bed and feel like my abdomen is being squeezed from the inside out.
Opening my eyes, I see that Rome is no longer in bed with me, and by the feel of the cool sheets, I’d say he’s been gone for a little while.
I could use a hug.
Because I’m pretty sure I’m starting my period, and my periodssuck.
I climb out of bed to go to the bathroom but stop short and stare in horror at the blood on the sheets. It looks like something out of a horror movie.
“Shit.”
No.
No.
Fuck. I can’t let Rome see that. He’ll … he won’t like that at all.
