Page 108 of Mob Queen

“Dreams was hit first, about an hour ago, and G just called me to say Destiny’s been hit too.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Frankie flares up, ready to go at her brother.

“Hey,” I say interrupting her anger.

She swings around toward me. Eyes wide with fury, her lips pursed and scowling. “What?”

“Let’s focus on what we’re going to do.”

“We?” Rome says and looks between Frankie and myself. “The politician shouldn’t even be hearing this. All we need is for him to tell his fed buddies and we’re all fucked.”

“He won’t say anything,” Frankie replies.

“But ?” Frankie shoots him a silencing glare. Rome lifts his hands in surrender. “You’re the boss.”

“When you’re dressed, check on the girl and tell her to stay here. Under no circumstances does she go anywhere.” Rome nods and Frankie leaves his room. “You have to stay here too,” Frankie instructs as we head down the grand staircase.

“No,” I say. “If someone is after you, then I’m coming with you.”

“You’re not ready for that.” She rushes toward her office, but I stay next to her. I refuse to let her go because she’s stubborn and trigger-happy which is the perfect mix to get herself hurt.

“I’m coming with you,” I say with certainty.

“No, you have to stay here and look after the girl.”

“Fuck that,” I say. “I’m not a babysitter. I go where you go.”

Frankie opens the top drawer of her desk and lifts two handguns out and places them on her desk. “You’re not ready for this.” She lifts one gun and checks its ammunition. Without missing a beat, I grab the second gun, empty the clip and check it. Frankie’s brows drag in together when I check the safety and hand it to her. “You know guns?”

“I’m coming with you,” I repeat and not answer her question.

She clicks her tongue and slowly shakes her head. “Don’t get yourself killed, because I enjoy fucking you and I’m not keen on finding someone else.”

Is that her way of telling me she cares? I’ll take it. “I won’t.”

She moves past me and looks over her shoulder. “Keep up, and don’t get in my way.”

Ladies and gentlemen, Frankie DeLuca. Mob queen extraordinaire.

* * *

Police are everywhere when we arrive at the second brothel that’s been bombed. I hover beside Frankie as she answers routine and mundane questions from the police.

The fire department has managed to contain the flames, but sadly another three of the workers were killed. “Something’s off,” Frankie says when we’re left alone. She looks back at the smoke billowing from the smothered flames and shakes her head. “Two of my clubs destroyed within hours. Five of my girls, killed.” Her jaw tightens as she groans.

“Is there a turf war I should be made aware of?” I ask.

Frankie’s features stiffen. Her tongue darts out and sweeps across her lower lip. “Fuck.”

Shit, this doesn’t sound good.

Chapter 33

Frankie

Rome and I are in the office while we wait for G to return.

“Where’s the politician?” Rome asks.