Page 86 of The Mafia's Bride

Walking into Ace’s office wasn’t exactly on my list of things to do today.

I spent the last two days tracking down whoever thought to pull a weapon on my wife. Every lead, every tidbit of gossip was followed and eliminated. It kept me from our bed because I needed to find a way to keep Sloane safe.

So far, nothing. Just like the missing shipments. The rat in my fucking family.

I need to find answers—and soon.

Right now, instead of sitting across from my sister-in-law, I could be out there looking for leads. But one of the agreements of the contract was coming when sent for, so here I am. In this drab, gothic office. The walls are covered in old green wallpaper, golden animals painted on it with, black paneled wood underneath. Far back is a row of bookcases holding various dusty tomes of books and priceless trinkets.

The desk Ace sits behind is large. Too large for someone of her size. It has a marble inlay, stacks of papers neatly organized, and a computer on the side. There’s an empty tumbler of what looked likeliquor by her elbow and a mug of steaming black coffee across the way.

Behind her is a black marble fireplace roaring to combat the last stray chill of the morning before summer arrives. It’s there, in the slight breeze outside; the smell of summer, of late balmy nights and blooming flowers fighting for dominance.

I can’t wait to see Sloane in summer shorts and designer dresses. She deserves to be clothed in rich fabrics, her spark and curves being admired. I make a note to do so once this rat is found and gutted.

The chair Ace sits in is dark and ornate. It dwarfs her. She’s a small woman already, a few inches shorter than Sloane even without her precious heels, but here, it’s painfully obvious.

She looks too young to be the leader of the clan.

But the coldness in her eyes suits her, this life. And it’s directed all at me.

Behind her, is the smug fucking face of Killian Linwood.

I got two days before the call. Two whole goddamn days before he ran back to his master and told her what happened at the docks.

I wasn’t sure if I was worried for my sake, or Sloane’s. The wrath in Ace’s eyes is liable to kill us both.

“Ace,” I greet, smiling as if this is a cordial visit, tugging on my gloves. “You’re looking well.”

The glare she gives me is glacial. Sloane shifts beside me, her silken dress a bit too thin for the weather but hugging her curves nonetheless. She’s a vision of light in this depressing room. A bright fire that burns only for me.

“Alessio.”

“Lex, please.”

Her face drains of emotions. “Alessio,” she says, ignoring me. “What the fuck is this?”

She tosses a thick newspaper on to the desk in front of me. I grab it, hearing Sloane’s sharp intake.

Pictures of me carrying my bride from the club a week ago are plastered all over the black and white pages.Ah, I was wondering when it would hit newsstands.

I shrug. “Luckily, they didn’t get what happened after that.”

“And that is?” she asks reproachfully.

“I fucked your sister in the middle of the sidewalk.” I cross one leg over my knee, hand falling to Sloane’s thigh in a clear sign of possession.

Ace rolls her eyes, not bothering to rise to my bait. Sloane smiles next to me but it clears when Ace levels a look at her.

My protectiveness rears its head at the dismissal. Sloane is not a woman to be ordered about or silenced with a look. She is a beautiful soul, destined to be a powerful player in my organization.

“Lucky for me,” Ace drawls, voice cool. “Anything else I should know?”

“No.” I shrug.

“No?” Ace sits back, curling one leg into the chair. Killian stalks forward, leaning against her desk as if he belongs there. She shoots him a displeased glare before returning to me. “What’s this I hear about taking my youngest sister to the docks?”

“It was my choice.”