Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
I am so fucked right now.
I think it’s quite possible someone will come after me, despite the fact that Stefano let me go. Which means going to my place would be a mistake.
I could contact Sondra. I know she’d do anything in the world for me, but if Nico or any of his soldiers want to find me, she’s going to be the first person they look to for answers. I don’t want to put her in that position.
I do have the stash of money under my couch cushion. I need to get there and get it out without anyone seeing me.
I head back out to the strip and hail a cab. It’s not a great plan, but it’s a start. Once I have a place to stay I can contemplate what I’ve lost.
Stefano.
The only man who ever saw the real me.
Chapter Seventeen
Stefano
“Any sign of her?” I bark in my phone to Leo. I have him sitting in front of Corey’s apartment, in hopes she’ll show up. It’s been twenty hours since I threw her out and I’m going out of my fucking mind.
It took me the first six hours to pull my head out of my ass and realize Corey might not have been playing me. In retrospect, it seems obvious. Would she have just let Leo scan her purse without batting an eyelash if she’d been hiding something? If she knew she was carrying a bug? I’ve been looking for her ever since.
“No, none. No sign of life here at all.”
Fanculo.
The fact that her car’s still sitting in the Bellissimo lot and she’s not at her apartment absolutely guts me.
It means she’s hiding. She’s afraid.
Of me.
Because I’m the stronzo who tossed her out and told her to never show her face again like a fucking idiot. So much for I will always defend you. I let my fear of not being good enough, of a fed’s daughter never being able to be with a guy like me create some monstrous betrayal in my head instead of just taking the time to listen to her. She doesn’t even have a phone, or her wallet.
If it’s true she gave the money from Memphis to her father, she has nothing.
Maybe she went to him.
It’s an uneasy thought. Would he take care of her? The man who put a bug in his own daughter’s purse, putting her life in jeopardy?
I need answers. I need fucking information. I head up to Sondra’s office and barge in. Nico’s in with her, sitting on her desk.
“Where’s your cousin?” I demand.
She stands up, her blue eyes round. “What do you mean?”
I stalk around toward her, but Nico blocks my way. “Take a fucking step back,” he warns. “What’s going on?”
“Corey. Have you heard from her? At all?”
Sondra’s brows pinch. “No. What happened? Did you have a fight?”
I stab my fingers through my hair. “You could say that.” I turn and look out the floor to ceiling windows. “Tell me about her dad.”
Sondra draws in a sharp breath. “He’s an asshole,” she says without hesitation. “I can’t tell you how many nights she spent as a kid at my house because she didn’t want to go home.”
My chest tightens.
“Corey hasn’t talked to him in years.”
“You sure about that? He was or is here, in Vegas.” I watch her closely.
Her expression sours like something smells bad in the room. “He was?”
“And in Chicago.”
Fear flickers over Sondra’s face and Nico curses. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“He dropped a bug in Corey’s purse. She says she paid him off to drop his investigation of me.”
Sondra covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh no. So where is she? What happened?”
I pace around the room. “I fucked up.” I jab an angry hand into the air. “I threw her out. I didn’t know what to believe.”
“Oh no,” Sondra says again.
“Now she’s missing. I have her purse and keys. She’s not at her place. Her car’s still in the lot. I don’t know where the fuck she went or how to get ahold of her.”
“How long has she been gone?”
“Since yesterday. Any ideas of where she would go? What she would do?”
Sondra’s eyes well with tears. “No. She should’ve called me.”
My phone rings and I pull it out. It’s a Michigan number. I answer. “Tacone speaking.”
“Special Agent Simonson, FBI.”
I tense up, motion my brother over.
“I believe you’re aware I’m investigating you.”
I grunt an affirmative. My hand tightens so hard on the phone I fear it will crack.
“I’m willing to discuss dropping the investigation.”
I am going to kill this man.
No wait, I can’t. He’s still Corey’s fucking father.
“What are your terms?” I don’t bother arguing that he already took money from Corey to drop it if her story is true, which I’m coming to believe it is.
“Five hundred grand in cash and I destroy the evidence. Deliver it at 8:00 p.m. tonight in the parking garage of the Hard Rock Cafe.”