Mafia Heir

Chapter 11

Luca

When I walked into the penthouse around two in the morning, I was at my wits end. After hours of digging, I was still coming up short when it came to the connection between Silvano and Charlotte. Clearly there was one, even if she didn't know it, and it was consuming me. I wasn't used to having a problem I couldn't solve—in fact, I was used to heading threats off and eliminating them before they even had the chance to turn into real problems.

That wasn't the case this time, though. We had ruled out all the obvious links. She didn't owe him money, she'd never worked for him, never used his services. As far as I could tell, the two had never crossed paths in their entire lives, yet Silvano was willing to risk a hell of a lot to get to her. The man was senile, but even he wasn't crazy enough to start a war over some random girl for no reason.

And I wouldn't stop until I found out what that reason was.

"You're back early." Marco said. He was seated on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table. A large bucket of popcorn filled his lap as he watched some football rerun on TV.

"Get your fuckin shoes off of my furniture, man." I glared, knocking his feet off and flopping onto the couch next to him.

Marco straightened up, offering the bowl over to me. Reluctantly, I took a handful. I hadn't eaten all night.

"So did you get the guy?"

"This one, yes." I raked my fingers through my hair in frustration. "But I've got a bad feeling about all of this. Did she say anything to you?"

"Not much. She's shaken up. But Luca, she really has no clue what all of this is about."

"I know. And that's what scares me most." Charlotte was caught in the crossfires here, and that was the very worst position to be in. She was innocent—no connections to the mafia, no group on her side. If I let this go, we would basically be hanging her out to dry and I couldn't live with that.

"I'm going to visit Silvano again tomorrow and see what I can find out."

"And what are we doing in the meantime?" Marco arched his eyebrow at me. I knew what he was thinking. There had never been a woman inside this penthouse, let alone staying the night.

I let out a heavy breath. Hell, if I knew. "In the meantime, I guess we just keep her here. That's the only way to keep her safe."

"She's already asking to go home." Marco said stuffing popcorn in his mouth. I noticed a few pieces falling in between the couch cushions that made me cringe.

I knew Charlotte wanted to go home—she had told me as much before I went to meet Angelo—and it stung more than it should have. Did she really hate me so much she was willing to risk her own safety just to get away? Was I imagining all of that chemistry? All the times I caught her staring? The gentle blush on her cheeks where our eyes met? Had I made all of that up in my mind?

Marco picked up on my expression immediately, smacking my shoulder. "Don't tell me you're falling for her, boss."

I shrugged him off. "Marco, have you ever known me to be a relationship kind of guy?"

"Never. In fact, I've never even seen you with a woman except the girls from the club."

"Exactly." I said. "I'm only trying to help her."

"Good. Then you won't mind if I make a move then." He shot me a teasing smirk.

"Fuck off!" I tossed a pillow at him sending the popcorn bowl flying across the room. "You better pick that shit up."