Page 72 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation

I hit the wall outside and Ava is on me, kissing me, biting, rubbing up against me as she devours my lips. I spin her around so we’re in the shadows and she’s pressed between me and the wall. I slide my hand down along her side, tugging the dress so I can play in the petaled wetness of her cunt.

But a catcall brings me slamming back down to reality and I drop her dress and step back, licking my fingers under her hungry, feral gaze. “Better than any fucking dessert.” Then I nod at her. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Did you do that?” I ask.

“The look on your face was… I don’t know.” She’s irritation on legs. “Can we go?”

Mikey’s in the car with the motor running, and I open the door and push her in.

“Got Ben on the job, following the two. You want to go?”

I glance at Ava. “No, let’s go home. Ben knows what to do.”

“Who’s Ben? Follow who?” she asks.

But I don’t answer her.

When we arrive home, I take her inside and leave her there, secure in the knowledge she’s both safe and can’t get into trouble.

Everything will be locked if no one’s home or otherwise occupied. And if she leaves, the alarm will sound. I leave the brownstone, ignoring Ava’s questions, and get back into the car.

“Where to?” Mikey asks.

I give him the address to Ava’s apartment but have him drop me off.

Mikey’ll find a spot and wait for me to call if I need him or if I decide to send him home.

I don’t expect Ben to find out anything other than an address for where this Lev and maybe Hank go.

The apartment building is easy to get into, and I really don’t give a shit that my suit gets looks. I’m armed, though, the gun secure against me, just in case.

Protocol for walking into someplace uninvited. Even if the person who could do the inviting happens to be my wife. Actually, on second thought, I should probably have a bazooka on me.

Her apartment’s dark when I get the door unlocked, and I pull out my gun as I step inside, listening carefully.

The walls are thin, and noise from outside and inside the building seeps in, but the air’s still, like it’s untouched. I snap on a light.

A quick search reveals a few things. I’m alone, and this place—like Ava said—has been ransacked.

It has all the hallmarks of a professional search, one that masquerades as a robbery. Didn’t she say some things were missing?

Question is, what were they looking for?

Not money, it’s clear the person here didn’t have money beyond emergency funds.

Person. Not Ava.

Why the fuck did I think person?

Because… I walk through it again. Because there’s nothing really personal. The artwork’s generic, photo frames have pictures from magazines. I examine one of them by picking the broken glass out and pulling the picture free.

“What the hell are you playing at?” I ask. “Who the fuck are you?”

The image of the woman here isn’t the one I have of Ava. This isn’t a greedy, power-hungry woman’s place.

This is a place that belongs to someone hiding away, a little desperate. Oh, I’m sure she’s still power hungry, but for what’s hers.