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“I have not,” I answer, holding his gaze, and pause for a moment before continuing. “It’s strange, actually. Silvestri isn’t known for keeping secrets. Someone would’ve either heard about a woman getting kidnapped by now, or you would’ve heard from Silvestri in regard to her.” Whether that be as a threat to keep Angelo in line or to show him what happens when Silvestri thinks he’s going behind his back.
“It’s a possibility,” Mancini says, the intrigue lighting up his eyes even more. “What are you saying, Matteo?”
“I’m saying I’ve paid men to threaten and beat the shit out of people within the Silvestri organization. Yes, lower-level associates, but even low-level associates have ears. None of those men have brought any useful information to me.”
“You paid your men to beat up Silvestri’s men?” he asks, dumbfounded, as it’s typically not a wise thing to do. It could start a war going after his men like that. Especially with no solid proof of a good reason to do so.
“Of course not. I hired some street gang members to do it.” I take another sip of the whiskey and revel in the burn as it slides down my throat. “You and I both know I can’t have my name tied to that.”
Mancini takes a seat in the leather chair across from me and lets out a small sigh.
“I’m assuming you haven’t heard anything from Silvestri?” I ask him. “What about Mauricio? What’s he been up to these days if he’s not following you around?”
“I have him busy doing menial tasks. Distracting him so he’s not out doing more dirty work for Giuseppe.”
“If he was out doing dirty work for him, wouldn’t that be good for you? You could get an inside look at what Silvestri’s doing. Maybe he’ll slip up and give you some intel on Luxtyn’s mother’s kidnapping.”
He shakes his head. “No, he’s never that loose lipped around me. We need to do something more drastic. Too much time has passed since she’s disappeared. There’s no telling if she’s even alive at this point.”
“We both know that no body means she’s still alive.”
He downs the remainder of his drink. “Fine, she might still be alive, but that doesn’t mean she’s unharmed.” He stands up and slams his glass down on the table before turning back to look at me. “You and I both know that Giuseppe Silvestri doesn’t care what he does to people.”
He’s right. Her mother might not be dead, but she could be wishing she was, and we’re not any closer to finding her than we were at the start of this. I can’t be responsible for the death of my wife’s mother. She doesn’t deserve to feel the pain of losing a parent.
I have to figure this out quickly.
For Luxtyn.
I promised her I would find her mother, and I’ve always been a man of my word.
“I’ll think of another plan,” I say before downing the rest of my whiskey and standing.
Mancini holds out his hand to retrieve the empty glass. “Let me know what I can do to help.”
“She’s torn up about it. She might seem like she’s holding ittogether, but that’s because the hope of the search is distracting her. If we can’t find her soon, or there isn’t some kind of hope that she’ll find her, I’m not sure what will happen with her.”
Walking toward the door, I’m about to exit when Mancini calls out from behind me, halting my steps. “I’ll see what I can find out on my end.”
I give him a nod over my shoulder before pulling the door open to go find my wife.
21
LUXTYN
Matteo and I say our goodbyes and meet Rocco at the SUV.
“Back to the penthouse, Rocco,” Matteo says.
“Yes, Boss,” he says before driving back down the lit-up driveway to exit Mancini’s estate.
Talking to—or I should say sitting with—Elena and Giuliana was nothing short of awkward and pointless in regard to finding anything out about my mom. I’m not quite sure why I thought that would work.
Giuliana sat there with a scowl on her face the entire time, holding back whatever it is she wanted to say while Elena didn’t even acknowledge my presence. Conversation was not had with either of them, and after the disastrous dinner, it wasn’t something I was begging for.
Matteo’s face is void of expression as we silently make our way back to his penthouse. I’m dying to know if he got any information from Angelo, but he continues to sit there withhis elbow propped up on the armrest attached to his door, resting his chin in his hand.
Nothing. He’s giving me nothing.
