Page 55 of Falling for the Mafia Dom
“Where are you going?” His voice sounds different from usual.
Afraid.
“Lyla tried to reach me last night,” I shimmy my skinny jeans over my hips, “Tristan broke up with her and she needs me.”
“Ellie,” Sal steps toward me as I pull a shirt from the hanger, “One of the guys saw Angelo outside of the gates last night. You need to be careful. Let Paolo drive you. It will make me feel better.”
ChapterForty-One
ANGELO
Last Night
If anything about Ellie is predictable, it’s her relationship with the rich slut she roomed with in college. When one of them calls, the other comes running.
For a young woman in a big city, Lyla is quite cavalier about her safety. Following her through the city as she stops at various shops, it became evident that she was going to be an easy target. The opportunity I needed continuously presenting itself for me. She places her bag on the counter next to her as she browses, and I lift the phone from her purse.
Watching her is mundane.
It is nothing like watchingmybeautiful Ellie.
She is plain. Superficial.
There is so much to Ellie, and it radiates from her, drawing you to her.
Following Lyla to the Upper East Side, I leave when she meets with the deviant douche from the club. She will undoubtedly be at his place sucking and fucking him for the remainder of the evening.
Being so close to the Botticelli compound, I figure now is as good a time as any to make my necessary visit.
At first, I had just intended to make sure I was seen by a guard or two along the outskirts of the property. But when I see them through the window, I am drawn to the house.
Standing in the shadows, I watch the two of them with balled fists. My hands squeezing so tightly that my nails are digging through my skin. Sal has her blindfolded as he uses his belt to whip her like a fucking animal. Marring her perfect skin.
Ruining her for me.
Pulling Lyla’s phone from my pocket, I call Ellie’s number.
I don’t hear it ringing in the office.
Storming from the window and crossing the property, I call again. Still no answer.
Scaling the fence and walking down the sidewalk, I walk along the main gate of the property. A smile spreading across my face when the guard on the other side recognizes me.
That should do it.
Stewing in my booth as I sit at a small diner near Lyla’s apartment, my foot taps anxiously against the floor as my hand taps my gun against my thigh. I cannot believe that the sun is rising and Ellie hasn’t called back yet.
The elderly waitress brings the coffee to refill my cup, and I make annoying small talk with her for a moment.
Picking up Lyla’s phone, I call again and still receive no answer.
LYLA
911
Tristan left me
Ellie?
