Page 33 of Dirty Mafia Sinner

“Wait. And Riley,” he says as I turn to leave.

“Be careful.”

Brooklyn’s sidestreets are less crowded due to an early summer heat wave. Five blocks from the warehouse, and I’m flushed and sweaty. I’d consider hailing a cab if one were available. But instead of slowing, I hurry on, goose bumps prickling my arms.

Because it feels like I’m being followed.

I glance over my shoulder and search the faces of the pedestrians behind me. Nothing outward, no weird expressions or dodgy looks.

I curse the heat and the paranoid man who sent me into it.

Still, when I turn the corner onto a busier avenue, I duck inside my favorite tea shop. An iced lavender Earl Grey tea to cool me, and a few minutes ordering it to shake off my worries, and the imaginary figure who may or may not be following me. Logic says I’m a nobody in this city. Without friends—as Emily so unkindly pointed out. Ciro’s erratic behavior must be rubbing off.

Once my racing heart calms, I continue my walk.

Riverview Casino is seven city blocks from the office and overlooks the East River. Pop-up offices fill the parking lot, but after checking in with a guard, I’m informed Tommaso can be found inside the enormous rock star–worthy recreational vehicle that outflanks and outshines the smaller trailers dotting the new asphalt.

With black tar sticking to my heels and the asphalt amplifying the heat, by the time I knock on the door, I’m dizzy and weak.

Which is why I’m slow to process that I recognize the six-foot-five tank of a man who answers the door.

The Uber driver.

What’s he doing here?

We stare at each other, both clearly surprised to see the other again. He glances over my shoulder, scanning the parking lot, then frowns and waves me inside.

“You survived,” he says, running his fingers through his hair. “And now you’re here.”

He must know what happened. After all, he dropped me off the night of the casino groundbreaking ceremony. The explosion that destroyed my building made headlines. It’s understandable he’d be curious. I’m still in shock I survived. If it hadn’t been for that phone call, I wouldn’t be standing here, feeling both lightheaded and oddly upbeat—especially since he might know where my mysterious stranger lives.

“Jesus Christ, you look like you’re about to pass out. Let me get you some water,” he says.

He moves to the refrigerator in the kitchen area while I hover near a cozy kitchen banquette. On the table sits a large manila envelope labeled “C&C Enterprises.”

Puzzled by the coincidence that Tommaso is the Uber driver, I glance around.

He returns and hands me a bottle of water. “He’s not here.”

My pulse quickens. This is the chance I was hoping for. I barely restrain my smile. “Do you know how I can contact him?”

He crosses his massive arms while I drink from the bottle. It takes a moment before I realize he hasn’t answered my question. I glance up from his powerful arms to his face; he’s scrutinizing me intently.

“You playing me?” he demands.

“Excuse me?”

“All wide-eyed and innocent.” His brow furrows. “Christ, you came here, so you must know something.”

“Know what?” I ask, taking another sip as the fog begins to clear.

“Who … the Beneventi family … is.”

“Of course. They own the casino.”

He stands there, studying me closely, waiting.

“Do you … does Al … work for them?” Could it be he’s been so close all along?