Page 4

“Did you find out anything?” I asked, cutting straight to business.

Mario snorted. “Of course. I ain’t lazy, and I don’t take your salary for granted.”

With my usual private investigator coming up short, I’d sent Mario to dig deeper. I wanted anything, everything on Mack. But Jenny’s disappearance had not come first.

“I’ve also got some dirt on Chen you might find interesting.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Chen’s chick—Anna Wang? Turns out she’s not even Chinese.” Mario said, diving straight into the gossip. Apparently, he’d decided that was what I wanted to hear about first.

I remembered Anna—young, wild, and a known party animal. Early twenties, at most. Her Mandarin was so flawless that no one would’ve ever doubted she wasn’t born and raised in China.

“American?” I guessed.

“No, Australian. Like born and bred.” Mario added, cracking his gum. “She probably thought life would be easy—snag a sugar daddy like Chen and live the dream. But…”

He let out a low whistle. “God knows what that sick bastard made her do. Whatever it was, things went dark. Ugly. Her parents found out, and now they want to sue his ass.”

“What kind of ‘bad shape’ are we talking about?” I pressed, though I already had a sinking feeling in my gut.

“Kinky shit, boss.” Mario’s voice dipped lower, the usual teasing edge replaced by something darker. “My nurse friend said Anna was bruised… in places. And they found Barbie dolls up her pussy.”

I turned my head slowly toward him. “Did you say…Barbie? Children dolls?”

“Yeah, three of ‘em, boss. Apparently, there were five, but she managed to get two out herself. The other three? Stuck. She ended up in the hospital with a nasty infection and a fever.”

Jesus Christ. Even for Chen, this was twisted. But this wasn’t just disturbing–it was useful. Another victim meant a pattern. A potential case against him. And if I could find Anna, I might have the leverage I needed to keep Jenny safe.

“Where is Anna now?”

Mario shrugged, popping his gum. “No one’s seen her since she got discharged. Either she skipped town… or Chen got to her first.”

I didn’t like either possibility. If Anna was smart, she’d be hiding. But Chen had already cleaned up his mess, she might not be alive to testify. Either way, tracking her down became another item on my ever-growing to-do list.

I shifted the direction of the conversation. “And the other thing I asked you to do?”

Mario straightened up, his usual easygoing manner turning serious. “Mack Ander.”

“Yes. What did you find out?”

He cleared his throat. “He’s a drug dealer, boss. Serious drug dealer.”

That didn’t surprise me. I’d already suspected Mack wasn’t clean—but Mario’s tone told me there was more to the story.

“So?”

“Not just local. Hong Kong, Taiwan and parts in China. That means he’s in bed with some really powerful triads.”

I shook my head, unimpressed. “What’s the big deal? You know people who push product right? Hell, I’ve seen you dabble.”

Mario snorted. “Yeah, but that’s an occasional treat. This guy? He’s bad news. And working across multiple territories? That’s a death wish.”

That got my attention. “What do you mean?”

“He’s working for everyone—double-crossing the biggest players in the game. And when they find out? They won’t be happy.” He let out a long breath. “You know that code, right? You pick a side and stick to it until you’re six feet under. This guy broke every rule.”

“So, every triad wants him dead?”

“Pretty much.”

I leaned back, digesting the information. It made sense—sort of. Mack’s life being in danger explained why he fled to the United States. But there was a missing piece.

“If he’s that screwed, how the hell did he get out of the jail there?”

“I’ll see what I can find out.”

What I really wanted to know was—how did June know Mack?

Maybe they crossed paths during one of her business trips.

Or maybe there was something darker. Was it possible she had a drug problem no one knew about? But even if she had bought drugs from Mack before, it didn’t explain why he would follow her or attack her like that.

I pushed the thought aside as Chen’s property came into view.

Jenny and Chen owned multiple properties in Shanghai, but I knew he wouldn’t risk taking her to one of their sleek penthouses downtown—that would draw too much attention. No, he’d take her somewhere private. Somewhere isolated.

The mansion on the outskirts of Shanghai.

It was a sprawling estate, surrounded by acres of land and high walls. Out here, neighbors weren’t just distant—they were indifferent. Whatever happened behind those gates would stay hidden. If Chen wanted to hurt her, no one would hear a thing.

As we rolled up to the entrance, there was no warm welcome. No staff waiting by the gate. They weren’t expecting us. They sure as hell didn’t want us there.

I tried the polite approach first, buzzing the intercom.

A bored voice crackled through the speaker. “No one’s home.”

Frankly, I didn’t buy it.

“Boss, what’s the play?” Mario’s voice cut through the tense silence. His eyes gleamed with anticipation—finally, some action.

He’d come to Shanghai chasing a fantasy—the city ruled by triads and gangsters, like in the old movies.

But modern Shanghai wasn’t the blood-soaked battleground he’d imagined.

Truth was, he would’ve found more action if he’d stayed in New York.

Still, something about the city—maybe the culture, maybe the formidable Shanghai women—had kept him here.

And now, after years of waiting, he had a chance to cause the kind of chaos he craved.

I met his gaze, feeling an eerie sense of calm. Under normal circumstances, the word kidnapping alone would’ve sent my pulse racing. But right now? I felt in control.

“What do you have in mind?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Mario grinned, his teeth flashing like a wolf about to tear into prey.

“Run down the gate…” He trailed off with a low, psychotic laugh, and I had no doubt he had far more violent ideas he wasn’t voicing.

I nodded. “That’s our only option.”

“Do it,” I ordered.

Mario’s smile stretched wider as he shifted gears. “With pleasure, boss.”

There was no point wasting time. Whoever was inside wasn’t going to let us in.

And that’s why I’d told Clare to bring the Range Rover.

It wasn’t just any luxury SUV. Mario had personally modified the car, reinforcing it with custom brackets designed to absorb heavy impacts.

Just in case things ever got messy, he padded the car with bulletproof glass and swapped out the engine for one meant for a monster truck. Power was never a problem.

“Breaking and entering—here I come.”

“That’s illegal here.” I teased, though I had no plans to stop him from destroying Chen’s property.

Mario let out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, yeah. So is kidnapping a woman.”

He flexed his fists like it might somehow help with ramming through a steel gate. With a quick reverse, he angled the car just right.

“You’re not wrong.”

Without another word, he slammed his foot on the gas.

The Range Rover shot forward, colliding with the gate in a thunderous crash.

“You know boss,” he said almost too casually, “the car is less likely to stall if you hit it from the side. Plus, we’re safer that way.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Great tips—I see you’ve done this before.”

The jolt sent a thrill coursing through me. But when the gate still stood, I couldn’t help adding, “but the gate’s still standing.”

Mario grinned, undeterred. “One or two more hits. Promise.”

He eased the car back, revving the engine like a madman who lived for destruction. The deeper the growl, the more the tension in my chest built. For a moment, I imagined Chen’s face when we rolled up uninvited—smashing down his precious gate like it was nothing.

Mario gunned it again.

This time, the gate buckled under the impact, twisting and groaning before it finally gave way.

“Told ya,” he said, triumphant, as he accelerated up the driveway.

The road was lined with towering, ancient trees—deliberately planted to shield the mansion from prying eyes. Not that it mattered now. As we drove further in, I spotted the security guards ahead. Their wide-eyed expressions? Pure gold.

“I saw my pop do this once,” Mario mused, like we were taking a Sunday drive. “Didn’t even scratch the car. But the poor sucker he hit? Dead on the spot.”

His words hung in the air, dark and casual.

“What happened to your dad?” I asked, genuinely curious. Mario rarely talked about him—although I knew his father was part of an old and powerful Mafia family.

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? Your dad killed someone and nothing happened?” I tried to sound neutral. But his overly relaxed manner had me on edge.

“Yeah, it was a hit–and–run. Late at night. No witnesses.” Another shrug, like it was really no big deal.

“Interesting.”

“Haven’t you seen any true crime shows?” Mario’s voice took on a singsong lilt, as if he was reciting a twisted nursery rhyme. “People get away with murders. Lots and lots of people. Lots and lots of people…”

His laughter echoed through the cabin, low and unsettling.

And as we drew closer to the mansion’s entrance, I had the distinct feeling that things were about to get much darker.