Lahat ng Kabanata ng When the Mafia Lord Falls: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

I took a taxi to Evergarden. No personal vehicle. No carpools. No breadcrumbs.Aurelian Morgenstern must have had eyes on every corner and men on every street, and I wasn’t about to give him a trail to follow before I even got my shot.Hence, Jay Cordero, man of the hour and proud owner of a 3.5-star rating. He didn’t talk, thank God, but he did drop me off on the wrong damn side of the road.And it was raining. Of course.I sprinted across the crosswalk, heels slipping on the slick pavement, one hand stretched uselessly above my head like it might actually stop the rain from soaking through. My dress clung to my thighs, cherry-red and drenched, and my heels sparkled like drowned disco balls.I probably looked ridiculous. And also, if the stares were anything to go by, hot.The dress was an old joke from Charlie I pulled out of a trash bag in my closet. The heels were maybe half a decade pre-Sia time. My hair hung down in wet waves, surrendering strand by strand to the rain.I reminded

Up and down.I looked up at his hazy blue eyes, and then down at the thing half concealed by his suit jacket.The butt of a gun stuck from his waistband, hooked on the lip of his belt. I recognized the make. A Glock 17. Standard military and police issue. Seventeen in the clip, one in the pipe. Fully automatic. Fully illegal.Elian saw me looking. His grin curved higher. “Like what you see?”“I prefer not to dance with a handgun.” I hid my wariness. Should have seen this coming anyway.“The safety’s on.”“Yeah, as long as you don’t pull the trigger. It’s fully automatic, I know.” I agreed sarcastically.Elian’s eyes narrowed just a touch, enough to punch a warning bell in my gut. A man like him didn’t miss details. Not the kind that mattered. “Fully automatic.” Then the smile started to fade. “Funny how you know that off the top of your head.”Shit.I smiled, too quickly. Casual. Careless. “I read a lot,” I said, with a flip of my wrist. “Crime novels, mostly. They get surprisingly te

The suited man returned, a dark bottle of something too expensive to pronounce cradled like a fragile family heirloom between his gloved hands.“Ah,” Galli murmured, eyeing the bottle with a crooked grin. “Dalmore 62. A fitting pour for a man like you, Morgenstein. Rare, aged in secrecy, with just enough burn to keep people honest.”Elian said nothing. He merely watched, lips a still line, as the suited man began to pour.He started with Galli, tilting the bottle expertly, a neat stream of amber liquid catching the light as it spilled into the crystal glass. Then to Jodie, whose fingers curled loosely around the stem, eyes fixed on the table. Then to Elian.When the suited man reached me, though, his hand twitched. The drink splashed sharply over the rim, half in my glass, the rest cascading down the front of my dress like molten honey. Cold, sticky, humiliating.I gasped. The thin, rain-damp fabric clung to my skin, now darker with the spill, outlining my bra in stark relief beneath t

Elian signed the check with a single, deliberate stroke. His name stretched across ten million dollars like it meant nothing more than a normal paper. Not blood. Then, he stood and slid it across the table.Galli snatched it before the ink dried, his fingers twitching like he’d been starving for it. He looked like a greedy, dirty rat. The kind of man who wouldn’t flinch cutting someone open if it meant a bigger payday.Elian didn’t even glance at him as he muttered, “Let’s go.”Jodie was already halfway to the door, phone in hand, thumbs flying across the screen with mechanical focus. I followed them briskly, knowing damn well what staying behind would mean. Galli’s men stood like shadows wrapped in designer suits. I didn’t look back, but I felt them. Their eyes clung to me despite Elian’s jacket, sticky and cold.Outside, the air hit like a slap from the rain. Cool, damp, sharp enough to remind me I was still alive.The black SUV waited

The call ended with Charlie’s panic still echoing in my head, full of all the things I didn’t want to hear right now. I didn’t even have time to process what I’d just admitted before a sharp knock landed on the door like a warning shot.Three quick raps.I shot to my feet and shoved the phone under the pillow. “Just a second.”The voice that answered didn’t sound like it liked waiting. “I wasn’t asking.”The door creaked open before I even reached it. Isla stood there, silver hair falling in a straight, ruthless sheet, lips the color of dried blood, and boots that could crush bones. She didn’t bother stepping in. She just held out a black hanger with a thin, shimmery slip of a dress dangling from it like a threat. “Shower. Dress. Don’t keep them waiting.”I frowned in confusion. “Them?”“Clients,” Isla deadpanned. “You’ve got a booth tonight.”Right. That. I’d almost forgotten the cover I was working