My Unwilling Bodyguard: A Mafia Romance Novel by Stacey Ortel

Author:Stacey Ortel [Ortel, Stacey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Five Turns Publishing
Published: 2024-01-25T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

LORENZO

The last notes of music fade away as the orchestra finishes their final set, signaling the end of the party. I scan the lavish ballroom, watching the final drunken guests trail toward the front doors, no doubt off to continue the party somewhere else.

“Search the grounds. Find that bastard Dante.” Antonio’s sharp command slices through the heavy silence. His stony expression betrays none of the emotions that must be churning inside. But I know my brother well. Beneath that detached veneer, fury smolders.

We fan out wordlessly to scour the massive estate. I take the second floor, methodically checking each room. Most are still, darkened and undisturbed save for a few scattered rose petals the cleaning staff missed.

Fallen crystal shards crunch underfoot as I pass the grand ballroom again. Tables and chairs are already being broken down and stacked against the far wall. Dirty table clothes and linens are piled throughout the room as the staff make quick work of the cleanup. I swallow hard against the tightness in my throat and continue on.

I methodically check each darkened room. In one suite, raucous laughter seeps under the heavy door. I don’t bother knocking. The wood groans in protest as I shove my way inside unannounced. A few belligerently drunk guests perch sloppily on the antique fainting couch. They jump at my sudden entrance.

“Party’s over. Time to go.” My tone brokers no argument.

The man - some business associate of my father’s whose name escapes me - attempts what he likely thinks is a charming smile. “Come now, the night’s still young! Surely we can toast the new Don properly.” He fumbles for an open bottle of champagne.

I fix him with an icy stare. “You can toast him from the back of a taxi. Now get out.”

The drunk man opens his mouth to protest but thinks better of it at my murderous expression. He and the giggling women beat a hasty retreat from the room without another word. I listen to their uneven footsteps recede down the corridor, releasing a frustrated breath. Normally I’d have more patience dealing with trivial matters like drunks overstaying their welcome. But nothing about tonight has been normal.

Once satisfied they’ve shuffled off, I continue my search. This wing is clear, not a trace of Dante to be found. Son of a bitch couldn’t have gotten far. Unless he had an escape route planned all along, anticipating we’d come for him. The thought makes my blood boil. I resist the urge to put my fist through the nearest wall. Barely.

Voices echo from the hallway, drawing me back downstairs. I follow the sound toward the library, nudging open the door left slightly ajar.

“...thought I’d take in the sights, maybe head down to the Caribbean for a bit.” Emilio’s bored tone cuts through the heavy silence within the cavernous room. “I’m sure you won’t miss these.”

He gestures casually to the open briefcase at his feet, filled with cash and other expensive trinkets. That thieving bastard. Helping himself while we’re all distracted trying to find his traitorous brother.

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