She’s delicious. Precious.Mine.
“I love you.” It comes so naturally to say it.
Her features soften. “I know you do.” She cups my face. “You’re so hot and sexy. I could stare at your handsome face all day long.”
“You do wonders for my ego, kitten.”
“Bullshit.” She wriggles out of my embrace. “Your ego is more than healthy. You don’t need me showering you with compliments.”
I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in ages. “True, but I like hearing them from you.”
“Where are we going this afternoon?”
“Out on my bike to the city. I’m going to show you some of the sights.” Massimo knows, and while he won’t tell anyone, he was the main person I was terrified to bump into it. Now it’s happened, I figure we can risk another day in the city. I want to show Valentina around, and it has to be today because I’ll be tied up the rest of the week.
After a yummy breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes with strawberries and the most delicious lemon vanilla muffins, we have a quick fuck in the shower and get dressed before parting for a few hours.
I set my plan in motion, placing a call to Dominic Ferraro to tell him I’m not giving his wife back and he can sing for the rest of the money. I tell him to expect to be served divorce papers in due course. My men in Miami are aware to shadow his every movement and report to me. I’m relying on his hotheadedness to take the bait and come to me. I make a few other calls and attend to some urgent things before rejoining Valentina downstairs.
The kitchen and outdoors area are clean and empty, with no sight of my kitten. I go searching, eventually finding her in the cinema room. Her attention is riveted to some Viking show on the big screen, and she barely acknowledges my arrival.
“I’d like to have that talk before we leave,” I say, pausing the show and claiming the seat beside her.
“Okay.” She pulls her knees to her chest, her bare feet resting on the large leather seat highlighting her pretty pink toenails. “But I don’t really have much to say.”
“Anything could help.”
“You asked me before where Dom’s money went, and I told you he spent it on parties and hookers, etcetera, but he also pays thesoldatiunder the table.”
“What do you mean?”
“He gives them a second wage that he pays from his own share of the profits. He’s been doing it for the past couple years.”
“Why?” I have my theories, but I’d like to hear what she has to say.
“My guess is he’s buying their loyalty because he plans to take Vitto’s place one day.”
“He’s a fool if he believes that’ll work. That’s not how we operate anymore.”
“Dom is old school, and he’s not always smart. He has it in him to be calculating, but like I said, he lets his emotions rule him too often.”
“Anything else?”
“Not that I can think of,” she says, her gaze unflinching.
“What about the warehouse?” I’m hoping she knows something other than what I’ve found out so far. The warehouse is owned by a Spanish company I suspect is a front. It’ll take time to trace the real owner, but I am all over it. We sent a drone in, but the windows are fully blacked out, and we couldn’t see inside. All entry points are padlocked, and there’s a full security system with keypads on each door. We could break in, but then they’ll know we’re onto them. It’s better to sit and watch in the hopes of catching them in the act.
My online search showed the car cropping up in a few places beforeit disappeared without a trace. I’m guessing they’re switching out fake plates on a regular basis, and as it’s a popular SUV and there are no distinguishing stickers or identifiers on the vehicle, there is no chance of finding it again unless it reappears at the warehouse.
“I told you I don’t know of any warehouse.”
She’s putting up a good front, but her little eye twitch gives her away. She knows something and she won’t tell me.Why? Is she still planning to leave? Is Dom threatening her to force her silence? I know she wants him dead so why isn’t she fully cooperating? What is holding her back?
I was hoping to have something concrete to come at Dominic with. It’ll be easier to crack him if he knows I already know what he’s been up to. But it’s looking like we’re going to have to go at him empty-handed and hope our interrogation and torture techniques do the job.
I haul her into my lap. “You can tell me anything, kitten. You don’t have to be afraid. Nobody is hurting you or your family.”
She frowns. “My family? What about them?”
