Page 16 of Mafia Obsession

“This should be good,” Daria murmurs. “You’re contemplating an alliance with Craig?”

“You can call it that.”

“And the husband?”

“Total destruction.”

Chapter 6

Lourdes

The late afternoon sun shines through a large plate-glass window into my office at Juniper Trading. I watch dust particles float through the light as a distraction from the screaming coming from Nathan's office.

Ten minutes ago, with quitting time on my mind, a tall, handsome, dark-haired, olive-skinned man stormed into the office.

Following right behind the man in an impeccable suit and polished shoes were three monstrously large men in black leather jackets in a tight formation.

The man in the suit marched straight into Nathan’s office with one of his henchmen, while the other two told everyone in the office to stay calm and that no one would get hurt.

My female coworker and I gasped when they pointed their guns at us, and again when they grabbed Nathan’s assistant, Kayla, who we all know is his mistress, and dragged her into his office, too. His door closed with a firm click that silenced the room.

Despite their menacing presence, they didn’t slam the door behind them in a show of any emotional anger, despite their clear intent to choose violence.

Everyone is still motionless and silent. I don’t make eye contact with my co-workers.

I just sit and stare at the dust, listening to raised voices and loud crashes that sound as if furniture is being overturned. Muffled shouts seep through the thin walls and cheap wooden door, but I can’t make out what’s being said. The thuds are mixed with male cries of pain, female shrieks, and then the sound of something, or maybe someone, hitting the door.

I look up and expect it to be cracked or half hanging off the hinges.

No one moves to help Nathan. Not even my other co-worker Benny, even though he claims to be some kind of Jiujitsu black belt guy. The men guarding us keep their eyes and guns trainedon us.

I let my gaze drift to my hands. To my crappy wedding ring. I hate my life right now. I can’t wait to get out of this city and away from David.

Suddenly, Nathan’s office door flies open, and the two men file out. The man in the suit doesn’t have a lock of dark, glossy hair out of place. The guy in leather, however, comes out rubbing his knuckles, looking like he worked up a sweat.

The gunmen patrolling us in the main office put their weapons away and follow the suit man. They all leave quickly and efficiently, in the same controlled formation as when they had arrived.

The glass door shuts, and the hum above my head from the fluorescent bulbs in the water-stained ceiling can be heard again in the room.

“Those men were mafia,” Marisol whispers. “That one in the suit? That was Nico Scava. He’s a don.”

My chest tightens, and I think of Ares from the other night.

He wore the same kind of suit. It wasn’t just how he dressed, though. It was the same kind of precise, effortless tailoring held together despite bulging muscles. The way he projected himself, so confident and sure.

I also remember Ares had the same ink on his hands as this mafia boss, Nico Scava. From spending time in Winterhall with David, I know enough about that world to recognize a brand of dangerous power.

Mafia…

I lift my eyes to Marisol. “What does the Italian Mafia want with Nathan?”

She gives a humorless laugh. “They run the ports. If something goes missing, they shake down importers.”

Guilt creeping into my bones, I stare down at my laptop. It’s the only device with a link to the shell account. The getaway money I’ve been building from customs date changes, currency finagling, and the quiet rerouting of unclaimed refunds. It’s been one small transfer at a time, a slow siphoning that no one should notice. That’s how Dad taught me.

I stand before anyone else and amble toward Nathan’soffice, not sure what I’ll find. Or what I can do. The door is ajar, and up close I see faint cracks in the wood.

I knock lightly, then push it open enough to peer inside. “Nathan?”