Page 32 of Wicked Mafia Sinner

She's in the safest place in the state of Illinois.

And that is a problem. I have no room for a woman in my life no matter the length she is with me. This is strictly business. The faster I clean up my son’s mess and make sure he knows to keep his hands off Cora Vale, the happier everyone will be. She can go back to her life and I can have my home all to myself again.

I pull out another smoke, light up. Inhale. Release into the night air. I take a couple more drags before stomping it out in my gravel driveway.

I fold myself into the driver's seat of my car with the image of Cora’s bruised knuckles still burning behind my eyes. I want to go back to her and kiss the bruises. Hold her against me and not let her go until she knows no one will ever touch or harm her again.

Those thoughts are dangerous and it’s better I’m nowhere near temptation. She makes my dick rock hard. The fight I recognize in her calls the demons I carry deep inside. Like attracts like and though she’s made of light and me of darkness, she’s a woman who makes me curious about being alive again. I can’t let that happen so I ignore the burn of toxins in my veins for both our sake.

I call Drake as I take the last curve at the bottom of the mountain I made into an underground home. My brother runs Chicago's docks, unions, and trucking lines, which means he knows every dirty cop in this city by name and price tag. If the police are compromised like Cora says, of which I have no doubt, Drake will tell me who's holding the leash.

He picks up on the first ring. "Brother. I already know you’re in trouble.”

I huff out a half laugh. My brother’s ring of informants is twice the size of mine. Anything happens in the city, Drake is the first to know. “That was fast. Which of your mouthpieces filled you in?”

“Residents called in reporting a man the size of a bear fighting men who then rushed out with a body over his shoulder. The description of your Ferrari told me everything. You clue Rafael in yet?”

“Nyet. Let me get details first.”

“Understood. Where do you need me?"

I give him the address to the alley behind Petals & Thorns.

“Give me fifteen.” And with that the line goes dead.

The highway opens ahead of me, dark asphalt ribboning toward the city's glow on the horizon. I use the drive to think. My mind works systematically over what I know, piece by piece. And then I focus on what I don’t know.

The first thing that comes to mind is what my son could be after. Territory? Not likely. He’s Bratva and I know he won’t be in this country much longer. Maybe someone took advantage of him and he made them pay. Cora could have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Everything is one big coincidence. But I know people. Men who grew up at the knee of my father learn to never do anything without a reason. Wasted energy is wasted life, my father had a habit of saying. We have a limited time on this rock and why use that time on anything that doesn’t benefit the family?

It's where we butted heads. He saw my relationship with my deceased wife as a waste of time. I did not. He killed her. I nearly killed him. I learned too late that he didn’t land in the grave I intended for him. Shit like that causes big rifts in families and I’m still paying for his mistakes and mine.

I scrape my nails through the thick bristle on my jaw.

But none of that tells me why my son is still in Chicago. There’s no way he could be after anything the Syndicate has. He’s stupid, but not suicidal. He knows my brothers will defend our territory no matter the cost.

So why the dead man?

I slam an open palm down on the steering wheel. “I don’t fucking know, but I’m going to find out.”

I mentally circle back to what I do know: Cora Vale witnessed a murder. Nikolai pulled the trigger. Nikolai's men hunted her like an animal for what she saw. She dropped a wish at Scarlet Thorn and it landed in my lap.

Those are the facts I can organize and act on.

I turn the ring on my finger. A familiar grip of guilt tightens around my guts as my head and heart seesaw between wanting to keep her and knowing I have to resolve this quickly so we can both get back to our lives.

The city rises around me. Streetlights streak past the windshield and the familiar rhythm of late-night Chicago fills the silence.

I arrive at the alley behind Petals & Thorns and the scene is active.

Cop cars line the street, their red and blue strobes painting the brick walls in alternating color. The forensic van takes up nearly the full entrance to the alley with their back doors propped open. Yellow tape is strung across the alley entrance and across the front door of her shop.

Drake pulls up next to me and slides out of the driver seat to meet me. I reach back in for my overcoat and slide it on while he takes a call. He always had a flair for the dramatic and tonight is no different. He has on a black coat with the collar turned up against the cold. Slipping his phone back into his jacket pocket, he falls into step beside me without a word.

“All good?” I ask.

“Rafael. He says to call if you need him and to make sure the girl stays alive.”

“Cora Vale,” I offer.