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People like that? You mean people like you, Rocco.
People like me.
Suddenly weak, I take a seat on the edge of her sofa bed. And hearing it groan and creak under my weight, I feel even worse as I glance around.
Knowing that this is where she’s lived for so long.
It makes me feel rotten for not finding her sooner. Lifting her out of this place, and giving her the life she has waiting with me.
Looks like someone beat you to it, Rocky….
Don Portello’s voice rings in my ears, and I can just picture that smug fuck look on his haggard face.
Did he do this? Did he order Jasmine snatched?
How could he? She was just there like fifteen minutes ago.
None of this makes sense so far, and even less sense to me is how much I feel like going home right now.
As if the answer will be there somehow.
Everything in my brain tells me Portello is behind this somehow, but my whole body is screaming for Jasmine.
And I can only think of home when I picture her in my mind.
I could swing by Portello…I mean,ourfamily’s restaurant on the way home, but I’d probably get myself shot.
Or worse, if I blow whatever I sense Papa has up his sleeve, he’ll kill me himself.
He wouldn’t have taken Jasmine.
Would he, though?
I shake my head. Not used to all these variables for something I wouldn’t normally think twice about.
Not that I do it every day, but hearing about people getting snatched and worse?
Well. It happens a lot in my world, so I don’t usually overthink it when it does.
But this is different.
This isher.
This is Jasmine.
My Jasmine.
The girl I haven’t even had a chance to meet properly yet.
I climb down the fire escape, silently hunting for clues I know aren’t there until I reach the alley.
The low wall is a step for me, but there’s nothing on the other side except tire marks and the hint of fear in the air.
I wander for what feels like minutes, but it turns out to be over an hour once I realize I’m halfway home, trying to think the best way forward until I find myself hailing a passing cab.
Sliding into the back, I growl our family’s home address which makes the driver do a double-take, sinking into his seat a little.
Nobody ever wants to get involved in our world.
