Ruthless Mafia Daddy (Alpha Mafia Daddies)

The elevator pings as I’m on the phone with Marco, and I curse under my breath.

“What is it?” Marco asks.

“Nothing,” I grunt. “Just get this shit sorted and head back to the main house. I want us all out of the city tonight.”

“Rosa’s already there. I sent her over as a precaution the moment I learnt about Tommy.”

I let out a breath. At least my little sister is safe.

“Seems like you do have a brain after all, little bro.” I hang up the phone.

I open the door to the study that attaches onto the master bedroom and curse when I find it empty. I go the living room, glancing to the couch where Lila’s dress was, but it’s gone.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

She’s gone.

And that can only mean one thing.

“Fuck!”

I ball my hands into fists, the knuckles still bruised, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to put a fist through a wall.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dial one of the valets at the hotel, Alex, who also happens to be on my payroll.

“What can I do for you, boss?” Alex asks after one ring. It seems when my men know I’m calling, they don’t hesitate to answer. Good.

“Do you see a girl in a black dress anywhere?”

Alex is silent for a moment.

Car horns and drunken cat calls come faintly through the line as I clutch the phone to my ear.

“There’s some girl looking like she’s waiting for someone. Maybe an uber,” Alex says. “Long curly hair, killer body⁠—”

“Alex, listen to me.” I choose to ignore the surge of jealousy at Alex’s appreciation of Lila’s body. “Take my Mercedes and follow her uber. I need to know where she lives. It’s essential I know, do you understand?”

Lila would recognize the Lambo, not that I’d let Alex drive it, but still. I need to play my cards right if I’m to keep this contained.

“On it, boss.” Alex hangs up.

My fingers fly, dialing another number, and as it rings, I stalk over to the bar and pour a glass of whiskey. The packet of sour patch kids is still on the counter, and my gut twists as I look at it.

“De Luca,” Kyle mumbles. “It’s five a.m.”

“So?” I down the liquor in one go, hurrying to pour another. “I have a job for you.”

“It couldn’t wait until the sun fucking came up?”

“Business doesn’t wait for anyone, Kyle.” I grind my teeth. “I need you to look into someone for me.”

“That’s what I’m best at.” There’s what seems like the rustle of bedsheets followed by heavy footsteps. “Who pissed you off this time?”

“I need you to find out everything you can about someone named Lila.”

“Last name?”

“Fuck knows. All I know is she graduated NYU three years ago and has a friend named Cassi.”

Kyle lets out a long breath.

“That’s more info than most of the fuckers you ask me to find.” He chuckles. “Speak soon, Andre.”

When the phone goes dead, I down my drink and stare out at the Manhattan skyline.

I should’ve known better than to take a fucking business call when Lila was in the next room. It’s a rookie mistake, one I should have learned from a long time ago. And yet, here I am, having a fucking PI chase down a one-night stand so I can ensure she doesn’t go blabbing to the police. Or worse, the press.

My hands shake as I pour another drink, the liquor barely taking the edge off my rage.

If Marco had done as he was told, I wouldn’t have had to call to check up on the status of Tommy’s body. But it seems my little brother isn’t as cold-hearted and ruthless as I am.

I can blame Lorenzo Rossi for that too.

I lose count of how many whiskeys I drink before my phone starts ringing.

“Alex, what have you got?”

“135 West 19th street.”

“Appreciate this.” I hang up and shoot a text to Kyle with the address as I’m heading toward the elevator.

I can’t stand to be in this penthouse any longer, not when I’m surrounded by images of what Lila and I did last night.

It was probably the best sex I’ve ever had, and yet, what did it cost me?

It has the potential to cost me everything.

Despite the amount of liquor I’ve drunk on an empty stomach, my hands are steady as I get behind the wheel of my lambo and start the hour-long drive up to my family’s main residence in Westchester.

I run through the conversation I had with Marco on the phone this morning over and over as I drive, trying to pinpoint every detail that Lila could have overheard.

Disposing of a body? Low priority.

Mentioning Lorenzo Rossi? Ding ding, we have a winner. Because where Lorenzo’s name appears in the press, my name appears, along with many other shadows that like to follow me around.

I wonder if Lila laughed when she found out that her guess of me being a mafia boss was true after all…

The gates to my family’s estate grow closer, and the sight of the perfectly manicured lawn and long gravel drive calms me just a little.

This place is where I feel the closest to my parents, where I have the most memories of them before they died. So, when I pull up outside the house, a little of the weight on my shoulders lifts.

It does so even more at the sight of my little sister sitting at the breakfast table, tucking into pancakes with one hand, a book in the other.

Marco is sitting beside her, nursing a cup of coffee, though knowing him, it’s laced with something else.

At the sound of my footsteps, she looks up at me over her book and grins.

“Andre!”

“Hey, baby sis.” I offer her a sincere smile.

At fifteen years old, Rosa is the spitting image of our mother, with her long, dark hair, tanned skin, and green eyes.

“Sit.” She gets to her feet. “I’ll get you some food.”

“Thanks, Rosa, but I’m not that hungry.” I take a seat opposite Marco, who offers me a small smile.

I ignore it, instead focusing on Rosa as she moves around the kitchen before coming to place a plate piled high with eggs and bacon in front of me.

“Which is exactly why you need to eat. Coffee is not an acceptable breakfast.”

“We’re Italian,” I joke. “Coffee is always acceptable. Besides, shouldn’t you be getting ready for school or something?”

“It’s Saturday, idiot.” She scoffs.

Right… I barely know what time it is, let alone what day or fucking year at that matter.

Rosa picks up her phone off the table, looks at the time, and curses.

I frown. “Language. Why are you up this early if it’s not a school day?”

She rolls her eyes. “Like you don’t cuss all the time,” she mutters as she takes her now empty plate over to the sink. “And I promised Emelia that I would play tennis with her.”

Marco mutters, “At seven in the fucking morning?”

“Language,” I repeat, but Marco only responds by flipping me off, making Rosa chuckle.

“We want to get an early game in before heading to Hula for brunch,” Rosa explains.

I instantly want to shut this plan down, to tell her to stay inside where I can keep an eye on her. But she’s a teenager, and I want her to have as normal a life as I can offer her. So, I fight back every instinct that has me wanting to lock her inside this house.

“Keep your location on. And get Cal to drive you and Emilia. Those are my conditions.”

“I know the drill.” She sighs, rolling her eyes again before heading inside again.

Once she’s out of earshot, I turn to my brother who simply raises an eyebrow at me.

He frowns. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks, that’s what I was going for.”

“So, where have you been? Getting pissed again at some random bar?”

“Maybe you should focus on your own life instead of meddling in mine.”

“Just making conversation.” Marco mutters, pouring himself more coffee.

I take my coffee and get to my feet. “I’ll be in my office.”

As I enter my office, I close the door and lean against the wood, closing my eyes.

Lila sitting at the bar yesterday was a breath of fresh air I had no idea I needed. She was intoxicating.

I only hope that I won’t come to regret our little rendezvous.

I have to wait for Kyle to get back to me with all the information he can find on my mystery woman. Until then, I have plenty to keep me occupied.

Taking a seat behind my large mahogany desk, I switch on my iMac and open up my emails. I groan at the sight of all the unread icons, the alcohol and lack of sleep finally catching up to me.

But then I remember why I’m so exhausted, and images of Lila’s naked, writhing body flash behind my eyes.

I groan once more. But this time, for a very different reason.

I’m not a playboy by any means, but I do have occasional one-night stands.

Normally, I fuck the girl senseless and send her on her merry way. But Lila? Oh no, even three rounds wasn’t enough for me to walk away. I needed more. I needed my tongue to touch every inch of her delicate skin, to commit the sounds of her moans as she comes to memory.

That’s why, unlike any other time, last night I let Lila stay in my hotel room while I went to take care of Tommy.

And it’s come around to bite me on the ass.

I was thinking with my dick, not my brain, and if Lila decides to go spilling anything to the press, my family is on the line.

The ringing of my phone snaps my attention, and I glance at the screen.

Kyle.

“What have you got for me?”

“Just sent it all over in an email,” he explains. “She must be really good in bed if you’ve gone to this much trouble to find her because she’s clean as a whistle boss. Nothing interesting about her.”

“You have no idea how wrong you are.”

Kyle chuckles and hangs up the phone.

I click open the email and download the file named Lila Morano, tapping my fingers on the mouse.

“What am I going to find, Lila?”

Instantly, a picture of Lila at her college graduation appears, taken from a newspaper clipping. It seems she was valedictorian of her class.

“Impressive.” I zoom in on the picture.

Her blue eyes are shining as she looks into the camera, her long, brown hair pulled over one shoulder under her graduation cap. Her cheeks are slightly flushed, and there’s a small dimple in her left cheek which I didn’t notice before. It adds an element of innocence to her face.

She’s breathtaking, in a way no other woman has ever appeared to me before.

Yes, I’ve found plenty attractive, but Lila is different. Never before have I desired to learn what was on the inside.

And that scares the fuck out of me.

Kyle has composed a list of addresses—home, work, aunt’s house, best friend’s apartment. All useful but not what I’m looking for.

Finally, at the bottom, is a phone number.

Right now, my priority should be Lorenzo Rossi. But that isn’t enough to stop me from programming Lila’s number into my phone.