Page 6 of Mob Queen

My mouth opens and closes several times. “It keeps playing over and over in my head. He’s dead.” I openly stare at G. “He’s gone.”

“I know.” There’s a softness to G. His shoulders loosen and he glances down at his hands.

“That shot was done from a distance. We need to find whoever gave the order, and make them an example.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’ve got work to do.” I pull my shoulders back and concentrate on the laptop.

“I have a list of things to take care of.” He stands and leaves the office.

I sit back in the plush chair and stare at the screen. I need to reach out to the people I know and begin compiling a suspect list of who might have shot my father. I reach for my phone, and dial for someone who may know who killed him. “Miss DeLuca,” the male voice says without me verbalizing who I am.

“I need a meeting.”

There’s a pause from the other end but I can hear him tapping on the keyboard. “Eleven tonight, abandoned warehouse on Robinson and Jones.”

“Done.” He disconnects the phone the moment I agree to the meeting point. This is a start to finding who killed my father, and taking them down.

* * *

The office door opens and I’m relieved to see my brother. “Frankie,” he says and rushes over to me. I stand to my feet and fling myself in his arms. Every single emotion tumbles out of me as we stand together in each other’s arms. This is the first time since Dad’s death that I’ve cried. Although my brother towers over me, I still feel safe when he’s near. “How are you doing?”

“I’m a mess, Rome.” I pull back and look up at him. “He was shot right in front of me.”

“Do you know who did it?”

I shake my head and lean against the desk. “No idea at all. But I have a meeting with someone tonight who might have some answers.”

“Who?”

“15.” Rome slowly lifts his shoulders. “She’s an assassin.”

“You think she took Dad out?”

“I hope not, because if she did, I’ll kill her myself.” Rome’s brows lift. “You’ve been gone for so long. When was the last time you were home?”

“This isn’t home, Frank.” He looks around the office. “This is hell.”

“You’re being a bit dramatic, aren’t you?”

“Dad was an asshole. He pushed me to the point that I left. There’s nothing here I want to be associated with, except for you.”

“He wasn’t that bad, Rome.” I walk over to the liquor cabinet and pour us both a scotch. “Here.” Rome snorts as he takes the glass. “What?”

“Dad has molded you to be a mini him. A female version of who he was.”

I swirl the glass as I stare at him. “I know you don’t want this life, but I do. I’ve always wanted it, and now I have it. I hate how I got it, but I did and I’m going to make it work.”

Rome pulls the chair out and plonks into it. “How can you want a life that’s this unpredictable? You have no idea what’s around the corner. Do you go to a restaurant and when you’re leaving, you get shot down? Or do the Feds show up one day and arrest you because of your involvement in the sex trade, or drugs, or weapons? You can’t seriously look me in the eye and tell me you want this.”

His dark eyes stay locked on mine. I place my glass of the desk, round it and with outstretched arms, cage Rome to the chair he’s sitting in. I look him dead in the eye and while my blood pressure is climbing into the red zone, I say, “I’ve worked my ass off learning everything because I live this life. Not only do I want it, I fucking love it. I bet you wouldn’t be saying this if I were a guy.”

“Hey.” Rome pushes me back and stands to his full six-foot-plus stature. I square up to him, refusing to back down. “Don’t be a fucktard, Frank. I don’t give a shit that you’re a woman, I’m more concerned that I’ll be getting a call from G telling me he’s putting you in the ground and to return for the funeral.” I lower my chin, ashamed that I jumped to that conclusion. I’ve always had to prove myself because of my gender, and I’m naturally on the defensive. “I don’t want to receive the phone call from G, or anyone else.”

There’s a knock on the door before it opens. G hesitates to enter, reading the tension in the room. “Everything alright in here, Frank?”

“Yeah.” I step away from Rome and pick up my glass. “What is it?”

“You have a meeting I pushed back from yesterday.” G looks to Rome, then to myself.

Shit, I forgot about Pace. “What time is the meeting?”