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Pasquale obviously notes my expression because he says hastily, “You were locked up. I thought you wouldn’t want him knocking on any other families’ doors, so as soon as I saw this footage, I sent Salvatore around to recruit him. On a trial basis, of course.”
“Of course.” I laugh softly. “Good job. Anyway, back to these fuckers. Who are they?”
“Nobody knows. We circulated their head shots around and only one person had a guess.”
“Who?”
“It was one of your dancers at the strip club. Lily belle Blake. She told me one of them had been in last week and paid for her attention, in private.”
“And?”
“She said he gave her the creeps. He was unusually rough and slapped her around a lot.”
“Why the fuck wasn’t she protected? She was in the fucking club, for Christ’s sake.”
I pride myself on my security and Pasquale obviously shares my concern.
“I asked the same question to the guys on duty that night. They told me it wasn’t worth their pay grade to interrupt a Dark Lord.”
“Dark what…?”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing, and Pasquale’s expression tells me he’s not that impressed either.
“They told me of a secret society nobody knows much about. It’s an organization on the dark web ironically called The Dark Lords, and they recruit their staff there.”
“Their staff?”
“Security, cleaners, the usual shit and word is, it’s like a haunted house of sin. There are reports of ritual sacrifices and sadistic orgies that all happen in the place we are heading for now.”
I feel like smashing something, and Pasquale is obviously concerned that he’s the closest thing to me right now and shifts away a little.
“I’ve done some more digging on your stepmother.”
My ears prick up.
“What did you discover?”
That she landed in Vegas the night Flora came to the gala with the senator. She rented a suite at the Four Seasons.”
“Was she alone?”
“No.” Pasquale spits, “Accompanied by Mario Bachini.”
The pounding in my head is almost drowning out his words as he says tightly, “As soon as I heard, I instructed Vito to head up surveillance. They left the hotel this morning and headed to the airport. Apparently, their trip is over, and they watched the private plane take off.”
“Did they see them enter the plane?” I growl, hoping like hell they didn’t, and Pasquale sighs.
“They can’t be certain.”
“Why not?”
This is not what I want to hear, and Pasquale looks worried. “Another plane taxiing in obscured their view and when it passed, the door was closed, and the engines started.”
“And the car?”
“Gone.”
“So, they could still be here.”
