Page 84 of A New Days Don

He filled this form out?

How did he get my signature?

How did he submit this to Gerardo and into the system?

There is an uneasy pit in my stomach, more reminiscent of arousal than panic. Massimo isn’t just a part of the mafia. He clearly has access to resources far beyond the tech of some low-level enforcer, or however ranks work in organized crime.

“Who owns the house?” Gerardo inquires.

‘If they ask you who owns the house, it’s me. Give them my name, I will be on the official deed.’

“Massimo Bianchi,” I respond, saying his name out loud sends a flurry of butterflies in my stomach, stirred by the vivid imagery of the addictive man.

Gerardo’s eyebrow raises, “And how do you know the son of the deceased mafia leader Leonardo Bianchi?”

“Mafia leader?” I squeak. Massimo is the son of the man who runs the mafia?!

Gerardo’s features relax, as if my shock was all he needed to see and hear, “Leonardo Bianchi was killed a few months ago, shortly before Massimo returned to town, or at least that’s the rumour. I would recommend you stay away from him. He is nothing but bad news. They all are. I have been trying over the last two decades to put those men behind bars, but whenever I have evidence, it all disappears.”

“I’m sorry about the cruiser. I honestly didn’t think that house was going to explode.” I tell him, trying to change the subject from my relationship with the heir to the Vegas Mafia throne.

Gerardo chuckles at that, “I don’t think anyone believes a natural gas line is going to pop and blow an entire house. I’m glad you were alright. Vicek wanted to speak to you once we were done. You should head on over to his office.”

“That’s it?” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. My whole body cringes.

What am I looking for him to say? You’re fired?

“It has all been taken care of. Seems like Mr. Bianchi likes you enough to do a good deed.” Gerardo explains as he walks me out and shuts the door behind him. Leaving me with a bunch of unanswered questions and a whole lot of confusion.

He likes me enough to do a good deed. What the hell does that mean?

“LEWIS!” Vicek shouts, and I stiffen at the anger in his gritty voice. I turn on my heel, ignoring the stares from the few recruit officers in the pen and walk to Vicek, who is standing impatiently at the door to his office.

Vicek’s glare burns into the side of my face as I make my way into his office.

Great. I get to be the one to deal with Mr. Manchild’s volatile emotions this morning.

I should have gotten coffee on my way here this morning.

“What do you need?” I ask, keeping my voice as pleasant as I can to lessen the irritation currently rolling off the man in troves.

His hazel eyes narrow as he sneers, walking around his desk to sit in his chair, “I need answers, Mila. You have had the last three weeks to deal with putting together some sort of case while we worked the field, and despite all the evidence we brought in for you, you have been slacking.”

My jaw clenches so hard it aches, but I bite back the snide remark on the tip of my tongue about the unfair suspension.

“And I have been putting together a case, but between you and Lucas, neither of you has stopped to listen.” I grit out, and his eyes shift to me in what seems like intrigue, so I continue, “I have found several skulls and paraphernalia from past victims, victims that date back years ago.”

Fuck. I didn’t just give away that.

“What do you mean?” Vicek asks, his brow raising in surprise, though I can still feel the low simmer of rage in his veins as if he’s on a hair trigger.

Cautiously, to avoid incriminating myself and admitting to working while under suspension, I add, “Some were brought in by anonymous members who claimed to have found them in similar dumpsites to current victims. Others were old victims already in the forensics lab that I had our forensics team and some outsourced geneticists review. Upon taking a closer look, their causes of death and dental records match those of our current victims. The unknown subject didn’t start killing this year. He has been killing for years and somehow has gotten away with it.”

Vicek’s eye twitches a couple of times, making my breath hitch at the thought of him blowing up. He won’t do that. Not here. Not when we are in the middle of the department.

“That’s ridiculous.” Vicek brushes me off, the way he always does before he takes my leads out from under me and considers them his, “There are many murders in this city. It is well known to be the grounds of mafia activity.”

The suggestion that it was Massimo or his friends makes my stomach tighten with angst as I snap, “No. I went to speak with a woman almost four weeks ago. Her name is Jazzy, she used to be a sex worker before…” I pause, bracing myself for the admission, “Before she discovered me after the incident six years ago. She has been keeping track of the disappearances. She claims that I may have been victim one, an unsuccessful kill after being raped.” Vicek makes a face, his lips pulling back into a look of irritation, as if he has taken offence at what I said. I carry on nonetheless, “I believe her and I think we should speak with her again, gather more information, and put her under witness protection. She will spill everything if we can ensure her safety. I know it.”