Page 5 of The Mobster’s Present

While I would never admit it out loud, I’m a little jealous of the love he has, and that he’s found a good woman who sits at the head of the family like she was born for it. The fact that he found her in his family-owned brothel? Maybe it was fate.

Suddenly a ping goes off and Dove straightens. Not like she’s paying attention, her reaction is more primal than that. She goes completely rigid and she hits a button.

“No, you don’t understand,” a woman’s shaky voice comes through the speaker.

My eyes hunt through the monitors just as Dove brings the feed forward and makes it larger. A woman is speaking with the person running the front end of the house. She has a wild look in her eyes, and her outfit tells me she didn’t come here as a patron.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen her before; I would have remembered her. I’m moving closer to the screen without even realizing it.

“I need to see Romeo Amato,” there’s an edge of desperation in the woman’s voice.

“What is this? What was that ping?” I glance at Dove who is staring at the screen with wide eyes.

The silence stretches for a long moment before she shakes her head and snaps out of her surprised daze. “I set up the feed to catch Romeo’s name and flag those conversations. I get an instant notification and can tap in to check it out in real time.”

I stare at Dove for a long moment. I’m not sure if I should be oddly proud, or horrified.

With a huffed out breath, she rolls her eyes. As if reading my mind, she says, “You should be impressed.”

“I think I am.”

She nods like that’s the obvious, and only correct response. “Normally it’s just old gossip making its way back around. I’ve never seen a woman come looking for him. Why would they?” The look on her face is filled with genuine confusion.

Considering how much of a bastard the man was, I can understand why she doesn’t get it. Fuck, I don’t get it. But something about the look on the woman’s face is tugging at me; there’s real desperation there.

And fear.

This woman is pulling out all of her courage right now.

“I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want to call for him. I can’t.”

“What do you mean, can’t?”

“Romeo is dead.” The line is delivered without a single emotion. Good; that man doesn’t deserve anyone mourning his death.

Grief is not the look that flashes across the woman’s face. It’s hopelessness.

I’m moving before I realize it. Dove calls out from behind me, “Bring her up to the office.”

It takes almost no time for me to get to the woman. The greyscale version of her didn’t do her justice. I freeze for a moment when I see her.

Her hair is a beautiful, deep red. Her blue eyes are filled with panic. Her skin is pale, but it looks soft and there’s a sweet smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Everything about her looks exhausted, and a need to protect her rears up inside of me.

It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

It’s more than want.

It’s more than need.

I can feel the way my world is shifting.

I’ve dedicated my life and soul to the Amato family. I’ve stood at Angelo’s right hand for longer than I care to remember. It was the both of us keeping the hold on his family’s empire, and then expanding it where we could.

We worked side by side and fought back-to-back.

It was more than enough for me; it was everything I ever worked for coming true.

Now, all of it feels like nothing.