Page 8 of Billionaire’s Cruelty

On the tarmac, two black vehicles idled, waiting for us. Clare had ignored my instructions and called in a second car. I let it slide. She knew I was too tired to care. And she was right—having backup was the smart move.

Jessica and the new blond stewardess bowed as I stepped off the plane. Without a second glance, I headed straight for the Range Rover, Clare trailing behind me. I raised a hand, gesturing for her and the rest of the team—two others—to take the second car.

“Ni hao, boss.” Mario greeted excitedly, his jaw grinding on a piece of gum.

The cocky troublemaker had been working for me for nearly ten years. His job? Causing problems for anyone who crossed me. Today, he wore a black vest that did nothing to hide the ink on his arms—a bold symbol of his clan, or whatever they called the mafia in New York. The tattoos, combined with his unruly energy, made him look even more dangerous than he already was.

He pulled open the back door for me.

I gave him a brief nod as I slid inside, letting him shut the door behind me. Normally, I’d return his greeting with a sarcastic “Buongiorno,” mimicking a bad Mario impression. But not today.

“To Chen’s residence.” I ordered as he settled into the driver’s seat.

A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “Love the smell of trouble.”

“Did you find out anything?” I asked, cutting straight to business.

Mario snorted. “Of course. I ain’t lazy, and I don’t take your salary for granted.”

With my usual private investigator coming up short, I’d sent Mario to dig deeper. I wanted anything, everything on Mack. But Jenny’s disappearance had not come first.

“I’ve also got some dirt on Chen you might find interesting.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Chen’s chick—Anna Wang? Turns out she’s not even Chinese.” Mario said, diving straight into the gossip. Apparently, he’d decided that was what I wanted to hear about first.

I remembered Anna—young, wild, and a known party animal. Early twenties, at most. Her Mandarin was so flawless that no one would’ve ever doubted she wasn’t born and raised in China.

“American?” I guessed.

“No, Australian. Like born and bred.” Mario added, cracking his gum. “She probably thought life would be easy—snag a sugar daddy like Chen and live the dream. But…”

He let out a low whistle. “God knows what that sick bastard made her do. Whatever it was, things went dark. Ugly. Her parents found out, and now they want to sue his ass.”

“What kind of ‘bad shape’ are we talking about?” I pressed, though I already had a sinking feeling in my gut.

“Kinky shit, boss.” Mario’s voice dipped lower, the usual teasing edge replaced by something darker. “My nurse friend said Anna was bruised… in places. And they found Barbie dolls up her pussy.”

I turned my head slowly toward him. “Did you say…Barbie? Children dolls?”

“Yeah, three of ‘em, boss. Apparently, there were five, but she managed to get two out herself. The other three? Stuck. She ended up in the hospital with a nasty infection and a fever.”

Jesus Christ. Even for Chen, this was twisted. But this wasn’t just disturbing–it was useful. Another victim meant a pattern. A potential case against him. And if I could find Anna, I might have the leverage I needed to keep Jenny safe.

“Where is Anna now?”

Mario shrugged, popping his gum. “No one’s seen her since she got discharged. Either she skipped town… or Chen got to her first.”

I didn’t like either possibility. If Anna was smart, she’d be hiding. But Chen had already cleaned up his mess, she might not be alive to testify. Either way, tracking her down became another item on my ever-growing to-do list.

I shifted the direction of the conversation. “And the other thing I asked you to do?”

Mario straightened up, his usual easygoing manner turning serious. “Mack Ander.”

“Yes. What did you find out?”

He cleared his throat. “He’s a drug dealer, boss. Serious drug dealer.”