Going After Heaven (Mafia Romance)

Chapter Twenty Eight

I want to let you know that I got a lead on the person that tried to kill you at the gala," Gabriele says like whatever he heard me saying was just passive.

Passive or he expected that from me? Which means he probably thinks I consider him a tool.

"The gala?" My mind shambles for information on the topic. Oh shit!

I had forgotten about that. Normally it's not something I'd forget or overlook, but I dumped it with other things that do not require too much attention from me and handed it over to Damon to handle.

How did Gabriele get a lead?

"How did you go about it?" I lean forward on my seat and let my elbows rest on my desk.

"He is not from around here, he's a German from the Dust, an empire in the German underworld" he answers but not answering my question of how.

I nod, "someone went away from home to have me killed, that's big" he nods. "Do you know who this person is?"

"I'm working on it, but I'm sure it's an ally, not a foe, I sent Drago home, and as of now, I'm the only one to know your schedule aside from Rosita"

I chuckle, "and Helena" he raises his pierced eyebrow.

"You want to bring her in and put her in danger? The fewer people with solid information the better for everyone"

He has a point.

"Well it's a shame I won't be here longer to find out who this ally turned foe is" though now more than ever, I want to know.

I'm really curious to know.

"I doubt that," he dips his gloved hands into the pockets of his jeans.

He's easily stylish. Always plays around with black and gray but his body makes everything looks exquisite. He's got the kind of body people need for marketing luxury. When he puts it on, you definitely want to buy it and can't stop thinking about it until you do.

And he's also got expensive taste. He's always banded with designers, expensive wristwatches and those Diamond rings on his knuckles and piercings. Then add his choice of scent to it. Neat.

"Why are you doing this?" I feel myself going heated from the thoroughness of analyzing his fashion taste. "You don't have to" I force myself to meet his eyes. To be fair I have been avoiding them because I feel like shit.

I know some men do it to women most of the time. Use them for pleasure and not give a fuck about them. But like I said, playing in the swine to punish the pigs only makes you the same as the pigs, never better.

"I have one job, and that is to make sure you stay alive" his phone rings and it's an Italian opera.

Weird man. I mean who makes an opera their ringtone?

He looks at the screen, "I will be outside" he stomps out before I get a chance to say more.

Not like I have more to say.

I watch as he walks into the elevator with his phone to his ear.

I exhale. I need more coffee. It's already feeling like a long ass day.

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When I lift my head to look at the antique clock on my desk, it's 6 PM.

I've been so swamped with activities after Gabriele left my office, trying to make sure everything is in place for my big disappearance. As much as I am hoping for the best, I won't be fooled not expecting the worst.