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“Stay out of trouble.” I glanced over my shoulder to Orlando. “In case I wasn’t clear. Stay out of Deidre.”
Emilio shifted his gaze to Orlando. Neither would look at me.
“Marco, relax,” Orlando said. “She’s cool, and we’re not the ones corrupting her. We’ll keep her from getting into too much trouble.”
Ant followed me out of the room. Outside, I climbed into the passenger side of the SUV.
“Last night I spoke with Santino’s man,” Ant said as we drove out of the Jilani compound. “They have a guy inside with the police. Fucking bloodbath between a local motorcycle club and the Ortiz cartel. They weren’t just moving product. Young girls. Smells like the Irish.”
Patrick Byrne was known to go online to entice young girls onto his yacht in international waters. He also had a private island in the Caribbean, protected by local governments that enjoyed the fruits of his labors.
An exchange I understood. But that was where the similarities ended. Only the lowest form of human waste would profit off young girls.
My phone vibrated with a text from Emilio.
“Change of plans,” I said. “Alex Ferraro can see us now.”
Chapter Four
Marco
I slipped open the button on my suit jacket and sat across the desk from Alex Ferraro. Ant stood next to the door of the glass partitioned room. A business associate took position behind Alex. His arms crossed over his chest.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Alex said.
Like a hunter, I scented money and power, stripping it from my enemy. I recognized a formidable opponent when confronted. Alex wasn’t intimidated. But was he my enemy?
“Thank you. Luca spoke highly of you.”
Alex leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “I wish I could say the same of your brother. I don’t appreciate the deceitful way in which your family conducts business.”
I shrugged. “I’m sure we’re both willing to do whatever is necessary. However, I’m not here to discuss business ethics with you. My interest is personal. My brother is dead.” I leaned forward in my chair. “I need to speak to the woman called Tinker.”
Alex shifted his gaze to the man he called Ronan. Neither spoke, but there was clearly silent communication happening between them.
“Don’t insult my intelligence,” I said to Ferraro. “Clubs like High Protocol are Luca’s playground. He brought a submissive to his son’s birthday party. He was doing business with you. Are you going to deny knowing who she is?”
“No, but I wish I could speak to your brother. We haven’t seen her since Luca’s murder.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “When they find his body, maybe they’ll find hers, too.”
My gut clenched. I’d dismissed the idea she could be dead. I needed her to be alive. “Who is she?”
“Before Luca, she was a demo dolly in the club,” Alex said. “She was into it all.”
Ronan pushed away from the wall. “Tinker was special to Protocol. We all took responsibility for her. She was deep in the scene. Not just submissive, she wanted to be owned. Luca was her Master.”
“When was the last time you saw her?” Ant asked.
“The day she returned from Italy.” Alex clasped his hands on top of his desk. “She was scared.”
“Of Luca,” Ronan said. “She’d realized the man she’d fallen in love with was mafia. We haven’t seen her since.”
“Where is her family?” I asked.
“We’re her family. Parents and brother are dead,” Alex said. “The only way to describe her is broken. She was too trusting.” His voice hardened. “I take responsibility because I brought Luca into my club. Had I known the cost of doing business with a Bruno, I would have made other choices.”
“You knew her well?”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Have you been to a club like Protocol?”
