Page 16 of Mafia Scars

“I don’t know, but it’s worth giving us a million dollars each.”

Fuck, I was going to have to go to Chicago sooner than next week. I needed to go and get to the bottom of this fucking mess.

Raphael had screwed me.

“Good boy.”

“You know, you talk big, but you don’t have an ounce of a brain. Did you really think I’d allow you to just do this to me?” he taunted.

“I have you, man,” I informed him.

He raised a hand to my chest, pointing out the red dot that hovered there.

It was a laser, someone—a guy on the balcony—had me targeted.

Like that was supposed to faze me.

“One move, and you’re dead.”

“Oh yeah, once again, you made the mistake of fucking with me.” I did move, just not the way he thought, and Mr. Gun Man above played right into my trap.

He thought I was moving to harm Demarco, so he fired his gun. Instead of catching me, it went straight in Demarco’s neck. The place I was aiming.

Blood spurted from his neck, then sprayed out from the artery. I jumped back, so it wouldn’t catch me, then aimed at the gun man, but he was gone. Either he’d fled because he knew he’d be dead if any of Demarco’s men came in and saw what he’d done, or he was calling for backup. I didn’t stay to find out. I took that door to the back entrance and went straight back into the room where the auction was being held.

It was still going on. I nearly bumped into one of the auctionees, who was completely naked except for a flower in her hair. The things people did.

I continued my escape until I was off the yacht and back on the dock, where I’d parked my motorcycle. It was times like this when I was grateful for it. It provided a quick escape.

I heard some commotion behind me coming from the yacht. It could be nothing, or it could be Demarco’s cavalry.

No matter.

I jumped on my bike and gunned the engine, taking off into the night.

I tapped the phone on the dashboard and called Roose. He answered on the first ring.

“Hi, I was wondering when you’d call,” he said.

“Present for you onboard the Belle Lamont. I think you’ll like it.”

Chapter 4

Amelia

* * *

Was I supposed to think this was some sort of miracle?

I came in this morning to find the guys in full-blown celebration. Demarco had been found dead onboard his yacht last night.

Roose had called me then, but as it hadn’t been necessary for me to come in I’d waited until morning.

Jefferson and Holloway were arguing over the bets they’d cast, and Sinclaire was lapping it up. On my desk was a large take-away coffee cup from Starbucks I knew he would have placed there.

When he saw me go into my office, he rushed inside, picked me up, and spun me around.

“Brad Sinclaire, if you open up your stiches, I’ll put you back in the hospital,” I joked.