Raoul raises his hand to get the attention of a passing waitress. Carlo’s still laughing at his own joke.
“So, what kind of trophies?” My curiosity is making my head spin, but I keep my cool.
Julio shrugs. “Didn’t ask for details. Just thought it might be useful sometime, ya know?”
“Mark fucking Whitlock,” I growl. “I swear, if I—” My words are cut off as the waitress drops Raoul’s fresh whisky on his lap.
“Jesus fuck, you stupid bitch!” Carlo’s on his feet and for a second, I think he’s going to slap her. The woman is cowering in terror, but she’s no looking at Carlo. She’s staring at me.
“You okay?” I ask. She’s shaking her head, frantically mopping at the table, dabbing at the front of Raoul’s shirt.
“Sir…I’m so sorry, sir,” she babbles, still casting furtive looks at me. Which seems odd, because Raoul’s the one dripping with liquor, and Carlo’s the one who looks like he might beat her.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Julio snarls. “Stupid fucking bitch. No damn training, I swear to God. I dunno who’s supplying the fucking cunts around here, but I could do a better job.”
I’m feeling my annoyance rising, but it has nothing to do with the mishap with the drink.
“I think we’ve heard enough.” I feel my jaw set. Raoul gives me a quick glance. For all his ribbing, he knows when I’ve hit my tolerance levels, and he knows when to take me seriously.
“Thanks, Carlo…Julio.” He reaches out a hand, clasping each of theirs in turn. “We’ll be in touch. Good business to be done.” They nod. Carlo’s eyeing me suspiciously, but I ignore it. I’m trying not to hate Raoul a little for having any kind of involvement with these motherfuckers. Fortunately, before I can follow my instinct to throat-punch Carlo, my phone vibrates. It’s Andy, asking where I am.
Fuck.
I respond with a quick text of my own.
Out with Raoul.Grabbing a drink at a club.
No sense in hiding it. It’ll only come out eventually. And if it doesn’t, it’ll eat me up anyhow. This joint is little more than a high-class brothel. I know without a doubt that any woman in this place is pretty much on the menu.
The phone vibrates again.
Ok. Have fun.
I try not to scowl. I’m old enough to know that’s chick-code for “Fuck you. I hope you choke on your drink.” But I don’t have time to call her to discuss it right now.
“I gotta step out for a minute,” I tell Raoul, barely waiting for the others to leave. He gives a curt nod and I turn on my heel.
The waitress has bolted from the room, and I know without a doubt that she knows something I need to hear.
Chapter 5
Mateo Ricci
“Excuse me!” I quicken my stride down the dimly lit hallway leading past various rooms. “Miss!” Ahead of me, the waitress breaks into a jog.
Dammit.
“I just need to ask you a couple of questions!” Her stride falters as a man steps out of the restrooms and she almost careens into him.
“Sorry…sorry…” she blurts for the second time this evening. It’s really not her night.
“Fuck it,” I mutter under my breath. She’s reaching the end of the hallway. There’s an exit door ahead. In a minute she’ll be outside, and then she’s probably going to pull a runner. “Stop, goddammit! I’m with the Caraldi family. Should I put out word that you’re not cooperating?”
Low blow. But I don’t see another way. She slides to a halt. She’s shaking with terror by the time I get to her. I reach for her arm and pull her into a nearby storage room. She doesn’t resist now.
“Please…don’t hurt me!” she bleats.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” I try to keep my voice low and reassuring. Not easy when I’ve just chased the woman down the hall. “I want some answers. That’s all.” I reach into the pocket of my jacket, pulling out my billfold. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
