Page 15 of The Gangster King
Because she’d told me to stop.
Addy was going to be a fucking nightmare until she got release.
“Coffee. Toast. Eggs.” I ran my hand through my hair. “I’ll shower and get out of your hair, but I need some food.”
“I’m not your personal assistantorlover, Dante. You need to leave.” Adelina growled.
I leaned toward her on the covers. Her feet were tucked up and she looked too damn sexy with all that desire and hate pouring from her.
But despite ourrelationship,my kitten cares about me. “I’m not fucking leaving, not in daylight. Do you want me to be shot or arrested?”
When she hesitated, I lifted a brow.
“I’m not leaving this bedroom. Force my hand and I’ll call for your father as I stretch out on your unkempt bed. He can work out the rest.”
That got her moving.
She scrambled onto her knees, pushed against my chest, and shot across the room for her gown.
“Fine. I’m telling the kitchen to burn your damn toast.” She spat at me, stomping to the door.
“Gluten-free please, kitten.”
“Asshole.” I heard her mutter as the door closed.
Lucky for her, now three days on, her father doesn’t know I’m here. No one has seen me, even the guard I crept up behind last night when I whacked him on the head and took his phone.
I have calls to make, but I have waited until I think it’s safe. I know the feds will have my home’s and family’s phones monitored, so I don’t bother ringing them.
Nick and Jono are with my mother and sister, in any case. So I know they’re taken care of.
Thankfully, tonight, Adelina's mood has balanced out. I think I know why, but I’m trying hard not to imagine her rubbing one out in the shower...or however she’s alleviated her sexual tension.
Goddamn.
I’m seated at her desk searching for information online about the bust while she’s reading a book on her e-reader.
There’s nothing.
Not a fucking thing.
Busting a trafficking ring as big as ours would usually be all over the news.
“This is fucking bullshit,” I grumble for the third time and rub my forehead.
“They probably have paperwork to do or something,” Adelina says.
I turn slowly and narrow my eyes. “What?”
The fuck is she on about?
“You know. Admin. Maybe they don’t want the media to know yet.” She shrugs, glancing at me over her Kindle, then carries on reading.
“It’s not the USPS. These guys are cops on shit pay. One of them would have leaked it to pay for his kid’s college tuition.” I shake my head.
She should know this stuff.
“Busting Frank Baldassari—correction, killing him—is enormous news. Are you even in a crime family?” I snark at her.