Owned By The Mafia Lord
he demanded, his tone accusing, his frustration barely restrained.
I didn’t answer. I was exhausted. Petrov was exhausted. We had already gone over this.
I exhaled sharply, running a hand over my face. “Take a seat, Tony,” I said, my voice flat. “You’ve got some catching up to do.”
Tony’s eyes darted between me and Petrov, like he couldn’t believe how calm we were. But he listened. He pulled out a chair, but his urgency didn’t die down.
“Marco,” he said, his tone more insistent. “Tell me what the hell happened. Did you cheat on Sarah with your secretary? How the fuck did these pictures leak? Were our devices hacked?”
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