Page 14 of The Mastermind (Mafia Rivals #1)

CESARE

But half a second off his lead with Renzo three-quarters of a second behind was still too much.

I left the racetrack in an even filthier mood than I’d arrived in.

Rafaelle waiting in my hotel suite when I entered didn’t improve things. I craved a shower, a rage-abating jerk-off session, and a juicy steak. Necessarily in that order.

But I pushed my wishes to the back of my mind when I read his face.

‘What?’

‘The tech guys came up empty.’

I bit back a curse and the urge to demand what the hell we were paying them for. They were pretty damn good. Most days. When they weren’t strung out on molly and chasing college-grade pussy.

‘So you deleted it?’

‘Yeah,’ Rafa said. ‘But then fifteen minutes ago it popped back up.’

I froze. ‘What?’

He held up the phone. Sure enough, the owl with the yellow eyes was back. I dragged my fingers through my hair. ‘Swear to God, I’m this fucking close to shooting someone in the balls, just for shits and giggles.’

‘You and me both,’ Rafa quipped.

We both stared at the pulsing logo.

‘Gimme that.’ I snatched the phone from him, stared down at the screen for ten seconds. Then sucking in a breath, I stabbed it.

‘Fuck! What did you do that?—’

We froze as the owl blinked, grew in size, spread its wings and launched off an invisible perch. The 3D image filled the screen with black feathers, which subsequently exploded in a shower of green source code.

‘Whoever is behind this has a flair for the dramatic,’ Rafa observed dryly. ‘And not in a fun way. Owls creep me the fuck out.’

I silently agreed. My slightly elevated heartbeat returned to normal when my phone didn’t explode in my hand.

The source code drained away, leaving a smattering of letters behind, which then rearranged into a simple question.

WANT HELP FINDING YOUR MOLE?

Rafaelle tensed, his eyes darting to mine as a message box popped up at the bottom of the screen.

I typed:

Who is this?

The cursor blinked in and out for a full minute. Then the screen went blank. Another handful of seconds, my home screen was restored with no sign of the logo.

‘I think you just pissed off your fairy god-hacker.’

I stared at the screen, caught between fury and hope that Rafaelle was wrong. That I hadn’t just blown the first solid lead I’d been granted.

But… was I really desperate enough to trust some faceless keyboard warrior who’d popped up out of the blue?

I glanced at my brother. ‘You think this is the result of what I threatened at the meeting? That someone has known all along and kept it to themselves?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know, man. But on the off chance you haven’t pissed them off, are you going to chase this? What if they’re just fucking with you?’

I exhaled, my mind racing. Just as the logo flared to life. I hit it without hesitation this time. The same question shimmered into being.

WANT HELP FINDING YOUR MOLE?

Teeth grinding, I typed:

Yes

The answer appeared immediately. My fingers tightened around the phone as I read it.

HOLY MAMA HOLDS THE KEY

Fuck .

Rafa frowned. ‘Holy Mama?’

Mary Magdalene. ‘Maddelena,’ I breathed.

‘ Figghiu ri buttana ,’ Rafa muttered.

No. She wasn’t that great a liar. Was she?

My fingers flew over the keyboard.

Bullshit. If you want to help, stop wasting my time and tell me something I don’t already know.

Rafa’s hand clamped over my wrist before I could send it. ‘I’ll ask again. You sure about this?’

I paused. ‘I already know she’s involved somehow but I don’t think it’s her doing the dirty work.

I think she’s either covering for the real culprit or deliberately choosing not to investigate.

Either way, all I’m doing is cutting through the noise to get quick confirmation.

If this is some pezz’i miedda yanking my chain for funsies, I’d much rather know soon so I can use the time to find them and impress some manners into them. ’

His lips flattened, then he released me. I hit the send button. The screen dissolved again.

We waited. And waited. After ten minutes I tossed the phone onto the coffee table. ‘Fuck this shit. I’m going to take a shower.’

Rafa didn’t reply.

An ice bath had restored my weary muscles after second practice, but those things were more torture than refreshing. I let the hot water soak into my muscles and bones until the tips of my fingers started to prune.

The urge to masturbate had greatly diminished. Especially with my brother within hearing range. Once I’d towelled off, I pulled on a pair of joggers and a black T-shirt and strolled out of the bedroom.

Rafa was finishing a cognac.

‘Anything?’

He shook his head. ‘Nothing yet. Want me to stay?’

I checked the time and shook my head. We both needed a good night’s sleep in preparation for Free Practice Three and Qualifying tomorrow, even though I doubted I’d get any decent sleep tonight.

But there was no reason for us both to wait around.

‘Nah. Leave it with me. I’ll take care of it if they come back. ’

He set his glass down and rose. ‘Cool. Call if you need me, but only if it’s strictly urgent. I have a Goth groupie in serious need of deliverance tied to my bed.’

I grimaced, but not without an ounce of jealousy. ‘ Cristu , keep that shit to yourself.’ My hankering for racetrack groupies seemed to have taken a dive along with my race performance. But I had a strong suspicion the former had a lot to do with Maddelena Mancinelli.

His sociopathic grin back in full, irreverent force, he sauntered out.

Needing air, I strolled outside to the terrace. With a compulsion I couldn’t fight, I turned east in the direction of her hotel. Even on foot I could be there in under ten minutes.

It was a little past dinner time. Would she have eaten or was she neglecting her meals again the way she had in high school?

When I’d seen her hovering near the vending machine back then, I hadn’t really given it much thought. It had been irritating as hell to notice her in the first place when I would’ve given anything for a reprieve from the reminder of the bitter feud between our families.

I’d had an earful of it at home on the regular.

I didn’t need it dogging my steps in school, too.

I’d signed up to play football and lacrosse – against my father’s wishes because he deemed it a waste of valuable time – just so I could lengthen the time I was free of the burden of being Cosa Nostra.

Pretend I was just another Sicilian-American football-and-pussy-loving teenager.

Maddelena’s presence had been a constant reminder.

A burr under my skin long before that night in the warehouse.

And then the discomfort had morphed into a… yearning.

Hands braced on the terrace wall, I groaned low and long. Then I yanked my phone from my pocket. The absence of the owl logo chafed too, but I brushed it away and hit the number on my speed dial.

He answered on the first ring. ‘Fist. Need you to take care of a thing for me.’

‘Sure, Boss. Shoot.’

I relayed what I needed, then hung up, my mood fractionally better.

Whatever tomorrow held in store, it would end the way I wanted it to.