Page 11 of Sin City Obsession (De Salvo Empire #1)

Chapter six

One Step Forward…

“Take your bitch and leave.”

Anger flashed through Rocco’s blood. “Watch your fucking mouth,” he said lowly.

“Probably he can’t,” Em said as he folded his arms over his chest. “That attitude might be the only language he knows.”

The guard settled both hands heavily on his belt, as if the big plastic stick or the taser gun holstered at his hips would jump out and chase them off. “You don’t get to waltz in here and do whatever the hell you want,” he said sharply. “This is a place of business.”

Rocco flexed his fists at his sides. “Hard for us to conduct our business when you aren’t man enough to let us through. Why don’t you sit back down and wait until someone jerks on that leash, hm?”

The guard’s nostrils flared and his scarred lip curled.

Suddenly Alessa was shouldering her way between Rocco and Em. There was still some commotion going on in the heart of the lobby, but nothing sounded like it had escalated. Alessa aimed herself right at the mouthy guard. “You Louis?”

Rocco blinked.

The guard’s mouth opened. He drew a breath. “The fuck?”

Alessa repeated her question with slow, carefully enunciated words, the way one might if they were speaking to someone who struggled to understand the language. “Are you Louis?”

Rocco’s lips twitched.

The guard’s brow furrowed. “You sound like you’re from Jersey,” he said. “You got that … nasal pitch.” He raked his eyes over her. “You sure don’t got the look, though.”

“Born and bred. Sorry to disappoint.” There wasn’t an ounce of apology in Alessa’s tone. “Listen, Louis, I just need—”

“Lou,” the guard interrupted, grinding out the word through clenched teeth.

Rocco wasn’t sure if it was only his imagination, or if he actually felt her roll her eyes in response .

“Great.” Alessa raised her phone to shoulder height, screen out. “The nice receptionist back there told me you could help me identify this guy.”

Lou’s brow furrowed until it was nearly a singular, deep V on his forehead. “Some people don’t know what they think they know.”

Uh-huh. Rocco shifted his weight in a deliberate movement. “And some people don’t know when it’s a good idea to start talking.”

“Fuck you,” Lou snapped back. He cut a glare between them. “And get out.”

“Not until you tell me about this man,” Alessa said firmly. “You obviously know him.”

“That a crime?”

“I don’t give a shit if it is.” She shoved her phone practically into his face, until he couldn’t look elsewhere without moving his entire body. “Verify what I think I know for me. Tell me something new, something interesting. The sooner you play nice, the sooner we disappear.”

Rocco saw the guard’s hand twitch, but instead of raising it against her, he curled it into a fist and spoke again.

This time, he spoke with a cold smirk. “You wanna know somethin’ interesting? Ralph’s in your neck o’ the woods on work right now. Won’t be back for another couple weeks probably. You’d have better luck takin’ the next plane home, sweetheart.”

Rocco locked his jaw, firmly reminding himself not to step on her toes while she did her job .

Alessa lowered her phone. “You’re disappointing me, Lou. I know where Ralph is. I know what he’s doing out there. And I know he’s going to fail miserably.”

Lou heaved a breath. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It means if we really want to resolve this situation,” Alessa said, her tone remaining remarkably level as Lou leaned forward, “I need to speak with your buddy’s boss. Who I’m betting is also your boss, isn’t he, Lou? Can you tell me where I can find that man?”

Lou’s face hardened. “Mr. Gwathney don’t talk to uppity bitches like you. Fuck off.”

An actual growl pulled from the depths of Rocco’s chest. He ignored the startled stares from his men in favor of keeping his glare on Lou. “I thought I told you to watch your fucking mouth.”

Lou cut him an annoyed stare. “ Hah? ”

Alessa talked over both of them with a single, pointed question. “Is Ralph a quitter, Lou?”

Lou stared at her for a long, heavy moment, his eyes dark. Then he squared his oversized shoulders and suddenly projected his voice as if he were shouting at distant targets. “I said get the hell out before I throw you out, you fuckin’ scam artists!”

Rocco debated the effort it would take to clean up a second daytime scene, this one including multiple witness buy-offs.

Alessa sighed and took a single step backward, bringing her level with Rocco. “We’ll talk later, then, Lou.” She wiggled her fingers as she turned, using her other hand to encourage Rocco to move with her. “Please do tell Mr. Gwathney I’ll be back to chat. Bye now. ”

Rocco allowed her to move him, nodding for Ignazio to lead the way outside, and latched one hand around her wrist when she adjusted pace as if to fall back. “Uh-uh,” he said under his breath. “You’re with me.”

Alessa sighed. “You were a minute away from killing that jerk with a room full of witnesses. You need to take a breather.”

“Then I guess we’re done already.”

“As a matter of fact, we are.”

Alessa waited until the SUV was moving again to make the call. In theory it’d be quick, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel a flicker of nerves twisting her gut when the line connected.

“I assume this is important if you’re calling during dinner,” Dante De Salvo said by way of greeting.

The breath caught in her lungs. Crap! She had completely forgotten to factor in the time difference before she’d dialed. Just after three was prime dinner hour back home, and it was Friday. The Friday before an impromptu family wedding, no less. Of course the family was gathering.

She tightened her grip on the phone and did her best to keep her idiocy from coming through in her voice.

“Apologies for the interruption, Boss,” she began.

She waited a beat, not because she expected him to respond, but because letting the words linger intensified their sincerity.

Particularly when she had no way of buttressing her words with body language.

“I thought you would want to know, I have the name.”

This time, Dante hummed. The sound was low and bone-chilling even over the phone. “Only a name?”

“I’ve found his business establishment and verified George’s employment through three separate colleagues, but the employer was absent. I plan to dig up everything I can now that I know where to focus the energy.”

“Good. George has escalated on our end. The sooner we shore up his motivation, the better.”

She wanted to ask questions, wanted to know in what way the stalker-turned-home-invader had managed to escalate, but she knew well enough not to grill the Dragon. Especially since she’d interrupted his family time. “Understood.”

“The next update I want to hear is that the job is done,” Dante said. Background noise began to filter into the call and Alessa knew the conversation was nearly over. “Lean on Cavallo for anything you need to make that happen. He has my support.”

“Of course, Boss,” Alessa replied. She was pretty sure her head bobbed on reflex.

The line clicked without another word.

Alessa blew out a breath and tucked her phone away.

Rocco reached across the seat between them and settled his hand on her thigh. His touch burned through the fabric of her slacks. “We’ll get our hands on Gwathney, one way or the other. You’ll be reporting good news in no time.”

The irrational part of her only wanted to think about getting Rocco’s hands on her, but she did her best to stomp the thought down. Aloud, Alessa said, “I’m going to need everything your guys can dig up on Erik Gwathney. His guy in Newark is escalating, which means our timetable is shrinking.”

“I’ll call it in,” Emanuele said.

“As soon as we get addresses,” Rocco said, “I want teams sitting on every business and residence in the county. Round-the-clock surveillance until we find the bastard.”

“Yes, sir.”

Alessa turned her focus to Rocco. “You have some kind of interrogation space, I assume? Somewhere I can work once we have him?” The De Salvos had several that varied from veritable dungeons to rather comfortable safehouses, but she didn’t want to assume the Cavallos functioned the same.

Rocco spread his fingers wide, giving him a better—arguably indecent—grip of her thigh, and squeezed deliberately. “Of course. We’re reserving one of our nicest for your pending guest as we speak.”

She smiled.

Ignazio cleared his throat. “Sir,” he said. “We’ve got a problem.”

Rocco slid a glare forward. “What kind of problem?”

“ The Fast and the Furious type,” Ignazio said.

“That little punk,” Emanuele said, voice the closest to a snarl Alessa had yet heard it. He shifted in his seat and pulled a semi-automatic up from between his legs. “Put him behind the wheel and he suddenly grows a pair, huh?”

Rocco cursed. “How many?”

Something uncomfortable, like anxiety, bubbled up in her chest. They were talking about being followed. Whatever crew the boy from before ran with had shown up, at least in part, to support their comrade. And they were making their move on the open road, because the road was their go-to stage.

“I’ve made five,” Ignazio replied.

We’re being chased. Alessa drew a deep breath and reminded herself this was in no way her first vehicular confrontation. It just happened to be her first since Al’s death.

“Let’s lead them somewhere less congested,” Rocco said. “Signal home.”

“Already done, sir,” Ignazio said. He slid the SUV into the slow lane.

Alessa flicked her gaze up to the rearview mirror and noticed a burnt orange car with a black racing stripe move in behind them.

Rocco’s grip loosened and he lifted his hand from her leg.

Cold.

The loss of his touch left her cold, and all at once Alessa felt as though she’d been stranded on the center of a thinly frozen lake.