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“Done,” Mancini responds.
“And I need you to tell me why this supposed daughter of yours needs protecting, and who from.”
Mancini takes a few moments to respond. “The Silvestris will come after her once they find out Luxtyn’s name is on that contract, and when they do, they’ll kill her, just like they planned on doing to you once you wed Giuliana if you didn’t give them access to your port.”
Ahh, so they were going to kill me. They’re fucking naive if they didn’t think we hadn’t thought of that already. We would’ve been prepared. Wewillbe prepared.
“So you expect me to believe after all these years of being in bed with the Silvestris, that you’re just willing to throw them under the bus? All over a girl you don’t even have confirmation of whether she’s yours or not?”
“Yes.”
“And why do you think I’d believe a damn word you’re saying, Mancini?”
“Because I’ve failed my daughter and I’ve failed the love of my life thinking I was protecting them. The Silvestris can’t have control anymore.Noneof us can let them have control anymore. I’m here to attempt to right my wrongs, and that starts with you.”
I take a moment to consider my options. I can either tell Mancini to fuck off and try and figure out another way to take down Silvestri, or I can sign my name on the line of this contract and get the justice my parents deserve.
This is the most rash decision I’ve ever made, but I know what I need to do. I’m not doing this for myself. I’m doing this for my parents. For my family.
I pick up my black and gold Montblanc pen and sign my name on the line, sealing my fate, before sliding it over to Mancini.
Mancini’s eyes widen as he takes in my signature, but he quickly signs above my name before sliding the document back to my side of the desk.
“So, tell me, Mancini. What exactly is it you need me to do?”
6
LUXTYN
It’s been two days since I’ve heard from my mom. She was supposed to get back from her business trip yesterday, but she never showed up. I tracked her phone using theFind Myapp, and after doing a quickGooglesearch, I determined her last known location was at a condo where I’m assuming her client is staying.
I don’t fucking know.
When I called the police, they were useless, repeatedly transferring me from officer to officer, and by the time I got to a detective, he told me he would work on it and get back to me. The way he brushed me off infuriated me and left me with no other choice but to go to New York myself and figure out what’s going on.
I hopped on the first available flight to New York City, and now three hours later, I’m in the most chaotic airport ever, which is only escalating the anxiety I’ve been experiencing for the last few days.
After retrieving my checked bag, I follow the signs to therideshare area. According to the app, my driver should be here in five minutes in a silver Ford Fusion.
With my duffle bag hanging off my shoulder, I exit the terminal, taking in the sea of people working their way to their transportation. Out of habit, I grab my pocketknife from the side of my duffle bag and slip it into my purse. My mom always taught me to carry it on me, and now that I’m in a city I know nothing about, I’m more inclined to have it on me at all times.
I’m waiting by one of the several passenger pickup lanes when my phone dings.
Your Uber has been canceled.
“What the hell?” I mutter. Who cancels an Uber when they’re a few minutes away?
I let out an annoyed sigh as I start to order another ride before I’m interrupted.
“Are you in need of a ride, ma’am?” I turn toward the voice and pinpoint a tall man in a dark expensive-looking suit standing only a few feet away.
Eyeing him suspiciously, I ask, “Are you an Uber driver?”
“I am.”
I glance around with narrowed eyes at all of the people squeezing by one another as they make their way through the crowds, and notice a taxi driver only ten feet away, calling out to a passerby, asking if they need a lift somewhere.I guess approaching customers for rides is normal here.
I bring my attention back to the driver. “Which car is yours?”
