Page 22 of Paolo DeLuca
“You think they’ve been talking to Cali?” Dante wondered.
Paolo flopped down in his office chair, trying to decide if he needed to bring Gino in on this now or catch him up later. The club was packed tonight, and he needed eyes on the floor.
“Oh, I know they’ve been talking to her.”
He powered on the phone Dante handed to him earlier. It was password protected. Dante dug in his pocket and handed Paolo a slip of paper.
“The passwords,” Dante said. “The second one is to the other phone.”
“That’s why I keep you around,” he joked and typed in the word ‘Baron’ in Spanish. “These fuckers will never learn.”
Every aspect of the dead man’s life opened when the phone came to life to him. His social media, passwords, and pictures were all at his disposal. Paolo pulled up the phone’s call history.
“What are you looking for?” Dante asked. “He’s not going to have the number saved.”
“I’m looking for Cali’s number.” Paolo scrolled through the recent calls. “It’s to get my attention, so she wouldn’t hesitate to use her own number to contact them. She knows I’ll be looking.”
“Makes sense,” Dante agreed, picking up the other phone and typing in Barónes Rojo in the other phone. “What’s the number?”
Paolo rattled off Cali’s number for Dante. They continued scrolling through the call log of the phones.
“Found it,” Dante declared.
Paolo reached for the phone to inspect the number. “Yeah, that’s hers.”
He pressed the number.
A voice he knew quite well came over the line. “Why the fuck are you calling me?”
He laughed. “Now, is that any way to greet an old friend?”
A gasp, then a split second of silence, “Paolo DeLuca,” she crooned.
How the fuck did I ever think her voice was sexy?
“You’ve been trying to get my attention,” he chided. “So, here I am.”
One thing about Cali, he could always get under her skin. She always bent to his whims. Now would be no different.
“Yes, here you are,” she purred, and he turned his lip up in a snarl.
“Don’t play fucking games with me, Cali. What do you want?”
“Isn’t it obvious, mi amor?” She laughed. “I want you.”
Paolo slammed his hand on his desk. “Not fucking happening, Cali. I told you I’d kill you the next time I saw you. That offer still stands.”
“It’s because of her.” Her voice dipped an octave, devoid of the merriment from a few moments ago.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I saw the two of you tonight,” she informed him. “She is beautiful and talented. Those paintings were lovely. Worth every penny you spent on them.”
Fuck, Lyric.
His blood ran cold as he thought about the danger Lyric could be in. Wide-eyed, his gaze shot to Dante. He put his hand over the receiver. “Call Franco. Tell him to get eyes on Lyric, now.”
He didn’t wait to see if his orders were followed. Heaviness clung to the pit of his stomach at Cali’s laughter. It was something he’d never felt before.
