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“In fucking chains!” Lorenzo spits the last word and resumes pacing.
“You saw her?” Romeo asks.
“Yeah.” Dante sighs as he watches his older brother. Lorenzo looks like he’s about to have a nervous breakdown right before our eyes.
A wave of relief washes over me. “And she’s okay?”
Lorenzo’s head snaps around like it’s on a spring, his teeth bared at me. “No thanks to you two useless pieces of shit.”
Dante shoots me a warning look that stays my natural instinct to buck up when someone talks to me like I’m nothing. This isn’t the time or the place. And Lorenzo has every right to take his rage out on us.
Dante places his hands on his older brother’s shoulders. “We’ll get her back, Loz. Safe and unharmed. I swear to you. Both of them.”
“Both of them?” Romeo asks.
Dante looks between Romeo and me. “Mia is ten weeks pregnant.”
Oh holy fuck.
Lorenzo buries his head in his hands and pulls at the roots of his hair. In the twelve years I’ve worked for the Morettis, I have never seen him so distraught. The sight of my normally reserved boss coming apart at the seams has every hair on my body standing on end. “I never should have let her out of my sight for a fucking second,” he groans.
“Beating yourself up and snapping at these two”—Max nods at Romeo and me—“isn’t going to help right now, Loz. We need to figure out how we get this crazy bitch the information she’s looking for.”
He stands still, arms by his sides now and nods his agreement. He cracks his neck, and a glimpse of the Lorenzo I know reappears. “Let’s start with the Russians. The Pushkins are dead, but there must be someone with a lead to who my father and Dominik did business with. We start there.”
“What can we do to help?” I ask. “What information is she looking for?” I wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t trust us anywhere near this after we let that tattooed siren blind us and take Mia from right under our noses, but I will do everything I can to fix our fuck-up and get Mia back.
Dante nods to Max. “Ride back to the mansion with Ace and Romeo and fill them in on the way.”
I guess that means we’re not considered completely useless then.
Chapter
Seventeen
KERES
My phone rings Saturday afternoon, a little over sixteen hours after I left the church with the assurance that Lorenzo would get me the information I’m looking for. Taking a deep breath, I answer but don’t speak.
“Keres?” Lorenzo’s deep voice is instantly recognizable.
I nod my thanks to the waitress who tops up my coffee. “You have a name for me?”
“I have a name. A lead.”
“A lead?” I scoff. “I was hoping for a little more than that.”
“How long have you been looking for this guy? I get you a name in less than a day and that’s not fucking good enough for you?”
“Yeah, but I’m not connected to the men who ply this sick trade the same way you are, am I? I want justice for the victims, whereas you…” I don’t finish my sentence. No use getting into an argument with him.
I guess he’s having a similar internal argument with himself because I hear him suck in a deep breath. “This man worked with my father. He’ll be able to give you more information that will lead you to the man you’re looking for.”
I growl with frustration. I’d hoped for better than this from him. “Or he’ll be a complete dead end.”
“He won’t.”
With no other leads to follow right now, it isn’t like I have a fucking choice. “Fine. What’s his name and where do I find him?”
