Bad Medicine (Underworld Kings) - Page 21

I blink back tears I didn’t realize were forming while he hypnotized me with his voice and words. I swallow thickly, and the sincerity in his expression leaves no room for me to doubt him or reinforce my walls. All I can do is nod, and I glance down at my food, sigh, then pick up my toast for a big, overly aggressive bite that makes the handsome beast in front of me chuckle.

12

Marcello

“Where the fuck is my daughter?” I yell, bursting into my son-in-law’s office, the door slamming against the wall. And the little fucker jumps up from his desk, tucking himself back into his pants before zipping and buttoning them.

He clears his throat. “Marcello, what are you doing here, sir?”

I ignore the woman who crawls out from beneath his desk and scurries out the door. “I’ve been trying to call my daughter for over twelve hours with no response, when not a day goes by that she doesn’t answer on the first ring. Where. The fuck. Is she?”

“I… I…,” he stutters, getting on my very last nerve. “I haven’t seen or spoken to her in a day or so. I’ve been busy with meetings and—”

“I just saw what you’ve been busy with, stronzo,” I remind him, calling him an asshole. “Now I want you to get on your phone and try to call her right this very instant. And if she doesn’t answer, then you and I are going on a little trip to her apartment. Together.”

I watch the blood drain from his face and already know he knows something.

But he picks up the phone anyway and hits a button that speed dials my daughter’s number. Just like when I’ve called her, it now goes straight to voicemail, signaling that she let the cell die or has it turned off—something she’s never been allowed to do, and hasn’t, since we gave her the first one when she was ten. There are all sorts of monitoring programs and location apps installed for her safety, so she knows never to let it get lower than thirty percent battery life.

My daughter is nothing if not obedient, so for her to be out of contact is concerning, putting it mildly.

I give Ferro a dark look that brooks no argument. “Let’s go.” I spin in my Italian loafers and don’t look back, knowing he’ll follow if he knows what’s good for him.

We climb into the back of my awaiting car, and the nervous energy coming from Ferro is undeniable. It puts me on edge, my gut telling me to take whatever he may say in the next hour with a grain of salt. He’ll lie to me if he knows something has happened to my little girl, do anything he possibly can to save his own ass if he allowed a hair to be harmed on her beautiful head.

When we arrive at her building, we take the elevator up to her floor, and already my hackles rise.

“Where are her guards?” I bark, seeing Ferro jump slightly out the corner of my eye as we stride into her apartment. “Even if she isn’t home, two guards are supposed to be posted at all times for when she arrives to see she gets in safely and to make sure no one breaks in while she’s gone.”

“I—” he starts, but he cuts himself off as I walk over to the island in her kitchen and look down into the grande plastic Starbucks cup sitting there. The coffee drink has coagulated, a sign it’s been here for at least a couple of days—something else that would never happen if it were up to Arabella. She’s a clean freak, and that’s putting it lightly. Has been since she was little and would like her toys and dolls just so.

I turn and stare him in the eye as I pull my cell from my pocket and hit a button.

“Marcellooo! What’s up, homie?” the chipper male voice asks from the other end, and even while I’m secretly terrified out of my mind right now for my baby, I notice my blood pressure lets up a little when Seth answers.

“I wish I was contacting you on better terms, but I need your assistance locating my daughter. Her phone is either dead or turned off, and it seems as if she hasn’t been home in a couple of days,” I tell the computer genius who’s been on my payroll since he was fourteen.

Concern immediately tinges his voice as he questions, “How did that happen? She’s never—”

“I know,” I interrupt, watching Ferro fidget where he stands. “I need you to check all surveillance footage in and around her home for the past week, and check all phone activity and anything else you can think of that will help me find my girl.”

“Will do, boss man. Where’s hubby dearest? Has he seen or heard from her?” Seth asks, and my eyes narrow on the fucker in question.

Tags: C.C. Monroe, K.D. Robichaux Crime
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