Mafia King (Mafia Royals 3.5)

My thoughts were dark as I walked back down the club stairs and into the main pathway that led to the bungalows the adults and younger children were staying in.

Sergio had texted me his number for updates.

And while I hated interrupting his vacation, I had to know.

I knocked on number seven and didn’t even flinch when two men appeared behind me as if I would make a run for it.

“Must you guys always sneak up on me?” I sighed. “It’s not like you don’t know me…”

Dom flashed me a sloppy grin. “I just like seeing you flinch.”

Ax chuckled next to him.

“What? Are you guys gonna high-five now?”

“Should we?” Ax asked.

“I love a good high-five.” Dom nodded.

I groaned and turned back just as the door jerked open. Sergio wore black silk pajama bottoms low on his hips, and his long, still-black hair fell across his massive shoulders. “This’d better be good.”

“You look like Johnny Depp before the pirates.” I laughed.

He growled.

My smile fell. “It was a compliment!”

He peered around me. “Are you two laughing?”

“Never.” Ax choked on a laugh while Dom cleared his throat a million times.

Sergio sighed and then opened the door wider. “Come in.” He jerked his head toward the two made men. “You two make another round.”

“On it,” Dom said quickly as the door shut behind me.

Sergio’s bungalow was twice the size of the one I was staying in with Kartini. With floor-to-ceiling doors that opened out to the beach, white furniture, a roaring fireplace near a flat-screen TV, and a spiraled wooden staircase that I was sure led to the several bedrooms.

“The wife sleeping?”

His glare said that they’d been doing something other than sleeping and that I’d interrupted.

I winced. “Sorry, bad timing.”

“When is it ever good timing to have an FBI agent in your bungalow?” He walked over to the bar. “Wine?”

“No. I’ll be quick.”

“You may need it.”

“Then I want whiskey.”

His chuckle was dark as his muscles moved and stretched. The man may be in his fifties, but he was jacked.

Tattoos covered his chest, swirling down his massive arms as he held out a glass with one ice cube and two shots poured into it. “Speak.”

“How long?”

“Pardon?” He sat in the leather chair across from me. “You’ll have to be more specific. I can’t read minds.”

“How long, Sergio?” I repeated. “Have you known?”

His expression was impassive, and then he said, “Why else would I have you guard her?”

I shook my head. “You knew they planned to kidnap her? And take her out by any means necessary to get you guys to talk?”

He leaned back in his chair. “Serena’s a fighter, she would have probably beheaded one of them and laughed. Izzy’s not far behind. The rest of the girls are younger—they wouldn’t dare. But Kartini? Perfect little Kartini…she’s the perfect target, don’t you think? Related to basically every boss, Nixon’s niece, my daughter, Chase’s niece. Tex’s niece by marriage…Dante’s cousin…”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “I couldn’t do it.”

“Of course, you couldn’t. I knew they would one day ask it of you—that they wouldn’t be happy with you infiltrating the Families for the sake of feeding them information. Knew they’d get greedy—and my daughter nearly died because of it.”

I froze. “I didn’t touch her.”

“You didn’t…” He nodded. “You also failed to protect her.”

I groaned and tipped back my drink. “Who did?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. Were they FBI? Were they just in the right place at the right time? Did they have orders like you? Was it just horribly executed and not related? The trail begins and stops at the FBI. My only question is this…what do they have to gain by hurting my daughter, Tank?”

I knew the answer.

I knew it before it was even asked for me to kidnap her, bloody her up, make it look bad—and do it all at this wedding for all to see.

I swallowed the dryness in my throat. “War.”

“Ah.” Sergio lifted his glass into the air. “Nothing the FBI loves more than when the Families are fighting amongst themselves…”

“Shit.” I ran my hands through my hair, mussing it. “So that’s why I’m here watching her now? And you knew the FBI would send in agents, didn’t you?”

“I assumed so, yes. They no longer trust you. You’re straddling a line that no longer allows you to touch both sides safely. One day, you’ll have to choose, and that day I’m afraid is coming sooner rather than later… Protect her, Tank—with your life. And then we talk.”

“And if it’s my life that’s taken in order to keep her safe?”

He was quiet, then he whispered, “Then I’ll give you a king’s burial and pray for your soul.”

“Thought so.” I stood. “Sergio?”

He looked up.

“Did she have anything to do with the killings that day? At the beach?”

“That…” His eyes were wild. “Is not my story to tell. I trust that the day Kartini feels she can talk to you about it is the day you’ll have to make your choice, Tank.”