Page 45 of Mafia King's Forbidden Obsession

The bed creaks and, to my surprise, I feel him climb into bed, moving, before he wraps an arm around me. He pulls me to his warm chest. I should push him away, should resist the comfort he offers. But I don’t.

Instead, I press my face against him and let it all out. I cry harder than I have in years, my whole body tremulous as he holds me. He doesn’t try to stop me as I let it all out.

It’s surreal to be comforted by the very man who is danger himself. The same man who’d turned my life upside down. And yet, in this moment, none of that matters.

With my cheek pressed against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, I realize I do feel safe in Ezra’s arms.

Chapter fourteen

Ezra

“Elio," I call out, halting him just as he passes down the hallway. He must have been searching for me, almost missing me on his way to the study.

I step out of my bedroom, carefully pulling the bedroom door closed behind me, and turn to face him.

He glances between the door and me. “Raven?”

“Dormendo(Sleeping).” She had only just drifted off, her tired, heavy eyes finally surrendering to exhaustion after her tearful breakdown.

Elio’s forehead furrows, his thoughts visibly turning. I know exactly what’s on his mind—no woman has ever set foot in that room except Silvia.

“È traumatizzata(She is traumatized). She needs the rest.” I shrug my shoulders in an attempt to downplay the new revelation.

With a nod of my head, I signal him to walk in the direction of the study.

“What do you have for me?Voglio solo buone notizie(I want only good news).”

Elio has been working to get information about the intruder since the incident, but I don’t need feedback to know that there’s a fifty percent chance he’s connected to Russo. What I, however, need answers on is why Raven? Why attack Raven and not me?

“No words yet on the infiltrator. We are still working on that,” he starts. “We’ve searched his body. There’s nothing on him… apart from the knife and a house key, so we can’t identify him yet.”

I curl my lips in irritation. “Elio, that’s not good enough. I need results.”

I don’t know what I’ll do if someone else comes back for her. I curl my lips in distaste once the thought crosses my mind. I shouldn’t feel that way.

We come to a halt in front of the study. Elio opens the door, allowing me to step inside before he follows. Then he walks briskly to my desk and retrieves a brown file from it.

“Ho qualcosa di meglio(I have something better)…” He jiggles the file like a present on Christmas morning. “Si tratta di Russo(It’s about Russo),” Elio finally says. “Abbiamo una pista(We have a lead).”

My ears perk at the name, my mind shifting into focus mode. Everything else fades at the mention of Russo. At long last, some good news.

“Dimmi tutto(Tell me everything).” I round the table to sit in the work chair.

He settles in the chair before me, returning the file to the desk. “The IT guys have been combing through CCTVs from when Russo visited two weeks ago. We narrowed down his location to Riverdale.”

His face lightens up as he speaks. “Last night, one ground investigator got lucky. He spotted Russo.”

I nod slowly, digesting every word. “E sei sicuro che sia lui(And you’re sure it’s him)?” A smile tugs at my lips, and hope unfurls in my chest like a blooming flower.

Elio nods assuredly. “Positive. He’s got that signature snake tattoo on his neck…can’t miss it.”

I lean in and flip open the file before me. There are stacks of papers and photos inside. I pick the photos first– they are grainy, but the details are still clear. Elio keeps his eyes on me, drumming four fingers lightly on the desk.

One shot captures Russo in slacks and a hoodie, stepping out of a drug store. His head is tucked into a baseball cap, glancing back over his shoulder, the snake tattoo on his neck peeking out.

Another image shows him in a shadowed alley, hunched close to a man who towered over his average height, their postures suggesting a heated discussion.

The angle is terrible, though—the guy’s face is too blurred to make anything out.