Page 64 of Mafioso's Muse
She stared at the name on the screen. ‘MG?’ Then she realised. ‘Ah, Mr Gallo. I see what you did there.’ Her eyes returned to him. ‘I thought you didn’t give out your direct number.’
‘I don’t.’
She was silent a moment. ‘How do you feel about emojis?’
‘The same way I feel about paedophiles.’
She pressed her lips together, holding back a smile. ‘So, don’t send entirely emoji-based text messages with no context?’
‘Not if you want a response.’
She leaned across the seat and gave him a quick kiss before snatching up her bag and exiting the car.
Vaughn watched her until she disappeared inside the building, then met Finn’s gaze in the rear-view mirror.
‘My apartment.’
Finn nodded.
As the car pulled away from the kerb, Vaughn’s phone vibrated. He looked down and saw a text message from Willow. It was two emojis: a pink heart with a ribbon around it and a winking face. He exhaled through his nose before tucking his phone into his pocket.
Fifteen minutes later, Finn dropped him at the front of his building on La Trobe Street. Vaughn nodded at the concierge as he passed the front desk, then took the lift up to the top floor. When he stepped inside his apartment, he almost trod on a large manila envelope lying on the carpet. Someone must have slid it under the door while he was out. Frowning, he picked it up and opened it on his way to the kitchen. Inside, he found a stack of coloured photographs. He pulled them out and froze. The first picture was of him and Willow rowing on the water. A picture from that morning.
What the…?
He began flicking through the rest of the photos. There was one of them walking on the dock, Willow standing up on the boat, him helping her off the boat, them kissing next to his car. One of him looking at her with pure adoration—oblivious that they were being watched.
He checked the envelope for a note, but it was empty. He then looked at both sides of the envelope for any details at all. Nothing. It was clearly meant as a threat. Someone wanted him to know they were keeping a close eye on him, and more importantly, that they knew about Willow.
‘Fuck,’ he muttered, throwing the photos down onto the bench and turning in a circle as he gathered himself. This was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid. What had he been thinking taking her out on that river for all to see?
His gut told him it was connected with the Chinatown business. Not everyone was happy with the outcome—or rather the absence of one.
Getting his phone out, he called his brother.
‘Yeah?’ Antonio said upon answering.
‘You on site at the Star?’
‘I am.’ He paused. ‘Why?’
Vaughn continued to pace. ‘I need eyes on Willow until I get there.’
There was a short silence before Antonio asked, ‘What’s going on?’
‘I don’t know yet. I suspect it has something to do with your gambling buddies.’ He fought hard not to go on the attack, as it wouldn’t help Willow.
‘Shit,’ Antonio said on an exhale.
‘Make sure she’s safe until I get there. Can you do that?’
‘Of course.’
Vaughn ended the call and shot a text message to Finn telling him to bring the car around. Then he phoned the concierge to ask who’d been up to his floor.
‘Only the cleaners, Mr Gallo.’
Vaughn pressed his eyes shut. ‘I need the hallway CCTV footage from the past hour.’