Cain ( Underworld Mafia Romance 1)

The worst part is I don’t know how to reach him. I can’t call him. I don’t know where he lives. Forget knowing why he left. I have no way of knowing if he’s even alright.

What if Sergio Bianchi sent another killer and he sneaked into the library as soon as I left, put a gun to Cain’s head and told him to come quietly? Worse, what if he killed Cain and dragged his body away?

Again, I shake my head. No. I mustn’t think of that. I must think of a way to find him, though, or at least reach him.

I’m desperate, so I give Taylor a call. He answers after the second ring.

“What’s up?”

“I need to find Cain,” I tell him.

“Okay.”

I hear the tinge of dismay in his voice, but I don’t have time to argue right now.

“Have you learned anything else about him? Anything at all.”

“One second.”

I hear keys clacking in the background. That means he found something, right?

“All I found were plane tickets under the name Cain Archer,” Taylor tells me. “It seems he’s been traveling to Milwaukee a lot.”

“Milwaukee?” My eyebrows furrow. What’s in Milwaukee?

“Also, I tried searching for him in military records. I wasn’t able to find any Cain Archer, but I did find a Cain Swinton who looks like him.”

So his real last name is Swinton?

“Incidentally, there’s a cafe just outside Milwaukee owned by a Marilyn Swinton. She had a son who went missing.”

Cain.

“I can give you all the information I have on her.”

Or I can just talk to her myself. Who knows? Maybe she knows where Cain is right now.

“Just give me the address of the cafe,” I tell Taylor.

Cain might even be there. Maybe there was an emergency and Cain had to go be with his mother.

“Okay,” Taylor answers. “I’m sending it now.”

~

The cafe is small but quaint. My kind of cafe, really. It has colorful picnic tables outside next to a well-kept garden. Inside, there are large, comfortable armchairs in various colors and round tables covered in embroidered doilies. Stained glass lamps and artificial vines hang from the ceiling.

I’d love to just sit down, have a cup of coffee and relax, but I’m not here to do any of that. I go straight to the counter.

“How may I help you?” the plump woman standing behind it asks me.

She’s too young to be Marilyn, but just to be safe, I look at her name tag. Eileen.

“Good morning, Eileen.” I give her a smile. “Would you know where I can find Marilyn Swinton?”

At once, the corners of her mouth droop into a frown. Disappointment flickers in her brown eyes.

What did I say?

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I just…”

“Ms. Swinton is no longer around,” Eileen tells me. “She built this place, but she’s no longer around.”

My eyebrows furrow. “Do you mean she’s…?”

“Please leave,” Eileen says, though her tone makes it sound more like an order than a request.

She turns her back to me and attends to something else. I move away from the counter.

Okay. So Marilyn Swinton isn’t here. Judging from the expression on the woman’s face, she’s dead. Not one of the scenarios I was expecting.

Now what? How am I supposed to find Cain now? Did I come all this way for nothing? Do I just leave with nothing?

I know for sure I can’t stay here. Eileen is already giving me a warning glance. I give her a nod and step out of the cafe. Outside, I pause to think.

For sure, Cain has been coming to Milwaukee. Maybe he’s been visiting his mother’s grave? Or maybe she left him a house that he stays in? Maybe if I ask around, I can…

A woman’s scream breaks into my thoughts.

I follow it to the back of the cafe and find the woman trying to push away the man on top of her.

“Leo, stop!”

“Hey!” I call the man’s attention.

Golden hair. Blue eyes. The moment I look at them, I realize he’s drunk. As I move closer, I catch the stench of alcohol, too.

“Get off her,” I tell him.

He snorts. “I don’t take orders from anybody, especially not from a bitch like you.”

Great. He’s one of those guys with no respect for authority. Or women. Then again, I’d already guessed that.

“Get away from her,” I repeat.

“Okay. Okay.”

He gets up shakily. Then he scratches the back of his head as he turns to me.

“What’s your problem, anyway? Did you want to take her place?”

His gaze goes over my body and I get a sickening sensation in my gut. My hand goes to the gun tucked into the back of my pants.

His lips curve into a grin. “Actually, you know what? I really don’t mind, sweetheart.”

He comes closer and I draw my gun. The woman behind him gasps. He frowns.

“Who do you think you are, pointing that thing at me?” he asks. “Do you have any idea who I am?”