Page 156 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

The whiskey burns just as expected. And tastes smooth.

“So.” McLain eases back into his chair afterward, his eyes moving toward me. “Tell me how my new hotel launders money without looking like it launders money.”

Straight to it.

Good.

I set the glass down.

“The Manhattan Project gives us multiple channels,” I begin. “Construction inflation alone covers a percentage, but the franchise management is where the real protection is. We bury movement under an international vendor…”

My phone rings again, the sound denting the air in the room.

Enzo glances at me.

I pull it out, irritation already strangling in my chest.

It's the same number.

I end the call immediately.

“You’re a needed man,” McLain remarks.

“Apparently.” I move to shove the phone back into my pocket.

But it vibrates before I can and it's a text this time.

The preview flashes across the screen.

And everything inside me stops.

: It's about Christine and Blue.

My chair groans as I move, standing.

Enzo’s head lifts immediately.

McLain watches me over the rim of his glass, one thick brow rising slightly.

“Well,” he drawls. “That expression usually means one of three things. Shipment issues, dead money, or women.”

“It’s not the money,” I reply flatly.

McLain hums like that answers enough already.

“I need a minute,” I announce to no one, already strutting towards the door.

I step outside the hallway and call the number immediately.

It doesn't ring before the person locks up.

“Robert.” The familiar voice breaks apart the second my name leaves her mouth.

“Yes?”

“It’s Aisha, Christine’s best… Sister.”

“What happened?” My stomach drops instantly.