Page 75 of Black Heart
“That’s very generous of you, sir, but I really must insist that you return to the party. Mr. Dawson wouldn’t want one of his esteemed guests to miss out on the festivities.”
The man’s grip on my arm loosens slightly at the mention of Dawson’s name, and he leans in closer, his whiskey-soaked breath making my eyes water and my contact shift. I rapidly blink it back into place.
“Dawson, huh? You one of his special girls he promised to bring into the VIP room?”
I nod, playing along. “That’s right. And he wouldn’t be happy if he knew you were back here, keeping me from my duties.”
A conspiratorial grin spreads across his ruddy face. “Well, we wouldn’t want to upset the big boss man, now would we? ’Specially not tonight, with all the big deals he’s got goin’ on.”
My curiosity piques despite the precarious situation. I feign wide-eyed innocence.
“Big deals? I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, sir. What could be so important?”
He grins, his teeth stained with tobacco.
“Oh, you know,” he drawls, his words slurring together. “All the hush-hush stuff happening in that fancy VIP room. Dawson’s got some real important people in there if you catch my drift.”
He taps the side of his nose with a clumsy finger, a gesture that might have let me in on his secret if he weren’t so drunk. “People you don’t wanna mess with if you know what I mean. And I should know, I’m what they call a ‘made man,’ you see. Part of the family.”
My knees buckle at his revelation. A made man—a fullyinitiated member of the Mafia. What are the chances this man is from Morelli’s?
High. Very high.
At the stunned look on my face, he follows up with, “Wanna see my gun?” then cups his crotch and gives it a wiggle.
I force a laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound as brittle as it feels. “Well, aren’t you just full of surprises!”
All while my brain ignites, synapses firing like a lightning storm that this man is connected to Morelli. I can’t risk asking more questions and blowing my cover or arousing his suspicion, but the temptation to dig deeper, to uncover any scrap of intel that could help Kaden, is nearly overwhelming.
I flutter my lashes and aim for a breathy, adoring tone, channeling every bad noir film I’ve ever seen. “You must be so busy, what with all your important responsibilities. I’d hate to keep you from your obligations.”
His chest puffs up at the praise, and he releases his grip on my arm to straighten his crooked tie. “Damn right, I am.”
I nod eagerly, subtly shifting my weight to one side in an attempt to edge away.
My watch vibrates with an incoming text from Ethan. I discreetly read it by placing my hand on the man’s chest. His heart races beneath my palm, the heat of his body seeping through his sweat-dampened shirt.
You ok? You’ve been in 1 place for a long time.
I take a deep breath, schooling my features into a mask of demure subservience. “I really must be going now. Mr. Dawson is expecting me, and I wouldn’t want to keep him waiting. Us girls are meant to give you men a big, sexy surprise later.”
The man’s bleary eyes narrow, and for a heart-stopping moment, I fear he’ll refuse to let me go. But then his face lights up like a toddler on his birthday. “Like dirty and sexy?”
I wink with my good eye. “Absolutely.”
“Off you go, then.” He flaps his hands. “I gotta leave, anyway, because, uh, I was sent here to, hmm … I can’t quite remember. Grab another bottle of whiskey from the kitchen?”
Leaving him to his problem-solving, I slink past and stride as fast and as calmly as my legs can carry me before I’m out of his sight. Hopefully forever.
My steps slow when I hear a loud crunch, then gagging sounds coming from his direction, but I don’t dare backtrack to inspect it or see how badly he’s fallen or passed out. As soon as I spot the emergency exit door, I push through and enter into the stairwell.
Lifting the watch close to my mouth, I dictate a response to Ethan in a whisper. “I’m fine. Sidelined by a drunk prick, but on my way to the basement now.”
But Morelli’s name won’t stop circling my mind. I pause on the landing, my hand gripping the metal railing as I wrestle with two decisions that pull me in opposite directions. On the one hand, I came here tonight with a singular purpose—to destroy the illegal AI that Dawson, Morelli, and his cronies have been developing in secret. It’s a noble cause, one that could prevent untold harm and suffering if this technology were to be leveraged by the Mafia.
Except Frank Morelli, the monster who murdered Kaden’s daughter, the man he’s devoted his life to destroying, is here in this very building. Conducting his business in a private VIP room, no less.
A sitting duck.