Page 50 of Scream (Duchess & Devils #1)

But this is the first way to see how she handles the way I run my club. To see if these kinds of matters are too delicate for her senses.So naturally, I tell my wife everything that’s happening with Dana.

She hands me the bag of food from her favorite bistro, the one where we first met all those months ago. Looking at it now, I should have proposed there, instead. Ruin it for her if she ever decides to leave me.

“And nobody has heard from the dancer? Not friends or coworkers?” She asks, brows furrowed slightly.

I shake my head.

“Do the dancers leave the same way they come in?”

“No, they leave through a back entrance, so their identities remain secret, and they don't get creeps following them home.” Niko replies, staring right at her.

She looks at my consigliere and enforcer. “And you've checked the entry for a sign of struggle? The cameras?”

“We have.” Sasha answers.

She shakes her head then pops my way. “This cop that's gone missing, you have a feeling maybe he took her?”

“She hides from him. She's always weary, and last time he tried to raid, she tried to climb into the ceiling to get away.” Niko chimes.

“That's… concerning.” She says toward Sasha, who nods in agreement. “Is this the same cop from our honeymoon? Donahue?”

I'm amazed she's remembered, but then again, I feel I underestimate my wife a little. I need to stop doing that. So, I answer Sabrina with a dip of my chin.

“The girl's name?”

“She goes by Dana Harley. She's eighteen. Foster runaway at sixteen. We have a bodycam video of Donahue picking her up as a teen on the streets, but no records of her being dropped off at Juvie or a women's shelter.”

Sabrina's face scrunches up in horror then she fixes her expression, but her eyes flash in anger. It's the first time it isn't directed at me. “Let me talk to Judge Mayhew. I'll see her later today. She may be able to let me get into Dana's records, given if Harley is her real surname. ”

I shake my head. “It's not. Her legal name is Emilia Fontaine. And juvenile records are private. We looked into it.”

“To the public .” She reminds us, blinking at me. “I'll also try to get into Donahue's records to see if he's ever had some sort of misconduct he's been accused of.”

For a moment, I'm stunned. What a great fucking idea. We checked his private servers, but we didn't check the NYPD database. I'll have Niko give Aleks a call as soon as I can so he can check the records. I shake my head once. “We can do that. I don't want anyone to know you're looking into him.”

“You should also try to see if he has any private real estate in the state he could've gone to. Give Bianchi’s wife, Vivi, a call. Is Donahue currently in anyone's pockets?” She inquires.

“No. I know a worm when I see a worm.” I reply.

Standing, she gives one curt nod, leans over and kisses my cheek freely, then faces my men. “Gentlemen. Have a lovely day. Seems we have some work to execute, and I have to prepare for court at two. See you for dinner?”

I stand and pull her back to me for a real kiss, tenderly pushing back a strand of hair and tucking it behind her ear, taking note of the small pink diamond studs.

She needs bigger ones. “Our chef Lydia is back from vacation and will be making shrimp scampi. Make sure you give her a list of any allergies you have and ingredients you need.”

She smirks. “If you keep feeding me pasta I'll gain back what I've lost.”

I plant my hands on her hips. “You say that like it's a bad thing, Duchess.”

She hums happily, and I find joy in the blush that spreads on her cheeks as she takes the moment to kiss me back.

My wife. Kissing me back.

Although still a bit tense, pride fills my chest.

“Okay, I have to go now. There's too much to do before dinnertime.”

“Court at two.”

“Court at two,” she repeats softly, her breath against the skin of my lips, and I want to take it for myself, keep my promise of tying her up and ravaging her on my desk. Reluctantly, I let her go.

My men stand, along with Parker, and once my wife and her bodyguard leave, Niko and Sasha turn to me, grinning. “Okay, not only is your wife hot, but she’s also a fucking badass.”

“Keep your mouth shut about my wife, Niko. Last thing I need is for my consigliere to end up at the bottom of the Hudson. ”

He grins. “Maksim and Sabrina sitting in a tree-”

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” Sasha sings, and they cackle when I growl.

I stare him down. “You're thirty- eight .” I remind him.

“And I never thought I'd see the day when you'd be sure to be home on time to have dinner with the woman you love, much less your Wife. Congratulations, Boss. You deserve this.” Sasha says with a cheshire-like grin.

I clear my throat and let those words sink into my brain.

“What about me? I deserve love.” Niko pouts.

Sasha rolls his eyes. “You'd fuck a hole in the ground if it were big enough, Nik. I'm amazed your dick hasn't fallen off.”

“I resent that.”

“Doesn't make it any less true.”

Niko stays quiet, pale blue eyes blinking, but he doesn't respond.

“Anyways, Boss. Alessandro De Luca is ready for you downstairs. Unless you want to eat first?”

I shake my head and take off my jacket. We step into the old wrought iron elevator, and we go down, down, down. The smell down here is a putrid mixture of bleach and the remnants of bodily fluids. Blood. Shit. Piss. Vomit. As Frank Sinatra used to say, “That's life.”

This life, anyway.

There's a spotlight on De Luca, showcasing the various liquids he's released. Most wouldn't think seeing a grown man shit himself is a lovely sight, but to me… oh, to me it means we're closer to answers than anything else.

Footsteps coming from the right corner draw my attention from the table where one of De Luca's fingers was placed in a surgical steel bowl.

I nod at Vincenzo Rossi, capo of the Bronx chapter. He smiles broadly, and even though he's a decade older, he's still a good-looking man. Easy to see how he was able to get his daughter’s friend to fall for him. “Maksim, always a pleasure, even under these circumstances.”

“Glad you could make it. My guys found him last night, in Eden no less, gambling away what he stole from you.”

“I didn't steal! I swear!”

“They all say that, don't they?” I ask Rossi.

“Easiest fucking lie to tell, Capo. Deny, deny… deny .”

I hum in agreement, don some surgical gloves and pick up bone cutting pliers from the surgical tray on the table to my left. “You know, I think my favorite is ‘I lost it.'”

It makes Rossi chuckle. “Yeah, maybe their dog ate it, too. ”

This makes me laugh. “Must be a Clifford sized dog to eat a thousand pounds of artillery.”

“Can you imagine the size of the shit that dog would take?”

I frown then jerk my head toward the asshole that's restrained.

“De Luca size. Probably.” I turn to face the man tied in the chair.

“What's crazy to me is how a thousand fucking pounds just disappears,” I make a voila motion with my gloved hand “and he has the fucking balls to spend money at my casino.

You think he'd remember if I cut them off, Rossi?”

Alessandro squirms and wheezes, the wet stain on the front of his pants grows bigger, and I scrunch up my nose in disgust. “Sasha, the dog’s gonna need a bath.”

“On it, Boss.”

I step out of the way in time for Sasha to start spraying Alessandro with twenty-five-degree water from a hose close enough to be a fireman's, and I relish in the screams and whimpers coming from the fuck.

I wave a hand, and Sasha twists the top, making it just a trickle.

I squat down in front of the piece of shit in front of me, still waving the pliers in my hand.

“A thousand pounds of weapons goes missing… and you show up in my casino with new threads, new shoes, gambling… how much was it?” I ask aloud to nobody in particular.

“Seventy grand,” Niko answers.

“See, I like to think of myself as… an understanding man. Niko, you'd say I'm understanding?”

He nods as if contemplating it then shrugs casually. “Yeah, I'd say so.”

The man before me blubbers, shivers, lips tremble some more, eyes shut tight.Repulsive. Pathetic.

“So I'm trying to understand how a nobody like you, doing grunt work, detail, right?

Is there on the night of a shipment, am I understanding so far?

Yeah? Okay. And one whole thousand pounds of not just guns but ammo, too, fucking vanishes.

Poof . I'm trying to add up and understand how the cameras cut out while on your shift for a whole twenty-four fucking minutes.

A few pounds from one crate. A few pounds from another…

no one would notice. Huh? You thought you were safe.

The cameras glitch. It's technology. Of course they do. Am I understanding so far?”

Another nod.

I slap him a little when his eyes flutter. “Who’d you sell the guns to, De Luca, huh?”

“Nobody, I swear,” he chokes out, spit connected from one lip to another as more drool slips out .

I tilt my head back. “No?” I rise to my full height.

“Alright then. You know, I was trying to have a good day today.

I was gonna go home, have dinner with my wife, eat her pretty pussy for dessert, and then fuck her till I'm raw. I just got married, you know? I was gonna kill you. Simple as that. But you know what happens when you kill a man as a message? Nothing really. Especially someone so fucking low no one will miss. But if you send a man back alive with no balls and no fingers and no tongue… well… actions speak louder than words, De Luca. Last chance. Who did you sell the guns to?”

“I don't know! I don't know, okay? Some guy named Brodsky came to pick up with a pack of his guys and they each took something, loaded it up and left!”

I lift a brow and look at Niko. He knows exactly what I'm thinking. Brodsky . Russian.

“What do they want the guns for?”

“I don't know anything else, I swear! Please! I'm sorry! I'll- I'll give the money back to you. I'm sorry!”