I stopped halfway down the corridor, studying the video. It wasn’t the first time the drugs had been brought into the club exactly the way I’d discovered the day before.
Only recently had our security experts suggested we install a new generation of cameras inside the small warehouse space located on the third floor. While the club and the building had been secured with infrared cameras, given the third floor was private, entrance only allowed to certain individuals, we’d opted not to spend the money to cover the interior.
Obviously, that had been a big mistake as the weakness had been used against us. Only Damien had no idea he’d been recorded.
However, given he’d been alone on the warehouse floor, I needed additional proof he’d sold the goods on site. Yes, the crime already committed was enough for punishment to be doled out, but I needed to know exactly how far I should go. “Any visible transactions?”
“Damien was careful, but I think you’ll find this video telling enough.” He took the phone from my hand, navigating toanother video. “Unfortunately, even our technology department is having difficulty distinguishing who he sold the drugs to.”
The second video presented was stymied by the shifting lighting in the bathroom. However, it was clear what Damien was doing. He placed the drugs in a towel, leaving without so much as glancing at the man who he’d sold to.
The purchaser was nicely dressed, but there was nothing about him to help with identification. At this point, I wasn’t certain his identity mattered. What I needed was absolute confirmation that one or both of the Russo brothers was behind the treachery.
“Interesting. It would seem Damien has a few things to get off his chest.”
Malcolm’s phone buzzed indicating a text just as the elevator doors opened. “Damien is on the third floor.”
“Excellent.” That would make things a little easier. Given the time, there were likely other employees already on the premises. I had another bartender on standby should the conversation not go as planned.
And it wouldn’t. They never did.
“What about the other information I asked you to obtain?”
Donatello seemed even more uncomfortable. “Our computer experts have her picture. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Do what? Find out why Anna is lying to me about who she is?” I continued heading to the elevator.
He shrugged. “I can tell you like her. She’s obviously a ballerina so maybe you don’t need to find out who she is.”
My laugh sounded hollow. “She’s the only woman I know who could find out the man she slept with was involved with the mafia and not break a sweat. That means she understands the lifestyle. She’s Italian.”
“I know, but you and I both know there are no existing photographs of the Five Families. And I seriously doubt she ran away from home.”
“Maybe she did. Maybe that’s why two thugs found her.”
I chuckled at the thought as I entered the private elevator, pressing the button and allowing my mind to drift elsewhere.
To the stunning dark-haired girl. The lovely Anna. My lost angel.
With business to handle throughout the city, I hadn’t been afforded the luxury of indulging in sinful images until now. Hell, that was a partial lie. Myangelo protettoas I’d started calling her was never far from my mind. She was a sheltered angel, more so than even my sister would believe. In studying her actions, I’d come to understand and believe that she came from an upper crust Italian family whose heritage was steeped in the old ways much like that of the Prince family.
Those of more casually traditional families couldn’t understand or even endure the requirement and protocols ingrained in children at an early age. That was one reason there’d been no question that Alexander as the firstborn would take over the helm of the Prince Empire. To argue against it would cause banishment from the family.
I sensed hers was very much the same, only I was going off gut instinct and her reaction to learning that our family was mafia. She hadn’t disappeared or seemed that frightened. She’d been intrigued instead.
And she’d had no sense of concern over shoving me aside.
“You think somehow Russo knows she’s in town?” he pushed, genuinely curious.
“Anything is possible.” If she was of some importance in the world of mafia, perhaps Carmine had changed his tune about being involved with a powerful regime. There were certainly more perks than with saving lives. Or maybe he was getting pressured and needed an entirely different alliance. So many questions, many of which could be answered if my angel would honor me with the truth.
“Hopefully, the facial recognition software will work,” Donatello said as he rubbed behind Zorro’s ears.
“Yes. Hopefully.”
As the elevator door opened on the third floor, I unbuttoned my jacket, feeling for my silencer. While there were soundproofing devices and material between floors, one rule that had been instilled the moment the doors to Indulgence had opened was that any unseemly business activity would be handled with grace and care.
In other words, without making a scene.
