CHAPTER 2

Vicente’s POV

I stepped out of the bathroom just in time for my phone to ding, signifying a message.

I take long strides towards the side drawer to pick up the phone and check if it's a message from Victor, my second-in-command, who is presently in Italy on my behalf.

A frown appears on my face when I receive a different message from an unfamiliar number.

Help!

Help!

You jerk, I f**king need your help! I am in that cheap hotel close to Austin Avenue. There is an intruder in here. Just help this once, and I promise never to bother you again. Pick up the fucking call or come help me. Goddammit!”

What the hell!

I toss the phone to the bed, my mind drifting to the person who had the audacity to call me a jerk.

Really?

I'm sure he or she has no idea who I am. Disrespect is the first thing I don't take from anyone. That includes everyone in my family, as well as the Mafia.

It's one thing I can take someone out for. Disrespect. Disregard. And betrayal.

The phone dings again, and I pick it up hurriedly to see Victor’s name flashing on my notification box.

With a sigh, I tap it.

“Good,” I mutter in satisfaction before exiting the message to see the strange number beneath his.

Out of curiosity, I tap on the message again to re-read it.

You jerk, I f**king need your help! I am in that cheap hotel close to Austin Avenue. There is an intruder in here. Just help this once, and I promise never to bother you again. Pick up the fucking call or come help me. Goddammit!”

Jerk? There is a high probability that the sender is a woman, and she is seeking help from a man.

Me?

Why did she send me the message? Is she someone I know? Does she know me?

Everyone knows how much I hate men who harass or abuse women. This woman, whoever she is, must be aware of that. If she didn't, she wouldn't send me that message.

I grab a shirt from my closet and put on pants, moving out with the phone firmly in my hand.

“Boss,” Luca says to me with a curt nod.

“Do you have any idea where Austin Avenue is?” I asked without hesitation, watching him nod quickly. “Do you know where the cheap hotels around there are?”

He looks thoughtful for a while before nodding. “There is Silverware and Magic hotel. Those two are the cheapest.”

I nod, my mind flashing back to the incident in Italy, where the Silicone Mafia laid an ambush on Dominic, the head of the Greek Mafia. Dominic and I had arranged to meet at a clubhouse.

Dominic was attacked, and he called me before I could get to the clubhouse to go back.

I don't fear challenges. Even when the war isn't mine.

It was Dominic’s war, but I wanted to provide backup for him, so I moved ahead and got there with my men.

They eliminated all the men sent to take Dominic down in a matter of minutes. Dominic plays a major role in the family business. Going down means we all go down with him.

He was grateful, even though he felt embarrassed for being caught unaware, leaving me to reprimand and counsel him for a minute about trusting no one.

With that scene racing through my head now, I don't feel any surge of fear of being ambushed. What I feel is just pure curiosity. I want to know who this woman is. I want to know who dared to call me a jerk. I want to know if this is truly an ambush, and who has the audacity to try such a thing against me.

I am feared all over Italy and even here in LA. That is because of my principles. You follow my rule, and we are good. But when you don't, you are on the path of destruction.

No one dares pull such a lame trick on me; I am sure of that.

The thought of it brings a smirk to my face as I pronounce. “Gather your men. Split them into two. The first part should head to Silverware with you, and the other should go to the Magic Hotel with me. If you notice any unusual activity, call me. Let's go.”

He rushes down the staircase to gather the men, while I go back inside to change my shirt.

When I hunt, I wear my black leather pants, black T-shirt, and jacket. I don't go hunting with just any clothes.

It is something I am proud of.

The Mafia. This is my life.

After finishing my task, I step out of the room and head towards the staircase, only to find Luca waiting for me downstairs, as if he had never left.

Nodding to me to signify the men are set to leave, I take the lead, and he follows me behind.

As soon as I am in the passenger's seat with Andre driving, we move out of the automatic gate.

Casually looking out with my exposed arm out of the car window, I find myself thinking about the text again, with puzzlement edging my insides.

They must have heard Luca say we were going to the Magic Hotel, but I haven't explained why.

I bring out my phone quickly and tap on the message again. Without glancing through the words again, I click on her number to verify her identity.

When it appears on my TrueCaller, I can see her picture and her name.

Annette Vasquez.

She is a stunning blonde, possessing almond-shaped brown eyes. She has a round face with a pointed chin, making her look daring.

In the picture, I can only see the white top she is wearing.

Annette?

I can't recall crossing paths with anyone with that name. I rarely have time to think about a woman. The few women I've encountered were those in the family business.

Most are mafia princesses.

This woman does not strike me as familiar, and it makes my curiosity grow bigger.

How did she get my contact? Why does she need my help? Apparently, I don't know her, but it seems she knows me.

Is she a family member I've never met before?

Uncle Miquel’s kids all stay in London. I only met with his first daughter once, when I went on a trip to London.

Miquel doesn't want them around or involved with the family business. I feel like it's because of his wife. Her refusal to associate with the Mafia led to their divorce. The Silicone Mafia killed her parents.

These are more reasons why he is always ready to back me whenever I bring up their topic. He wants to get rid of every single one of them and get his woman back.

I can't recall the names of his girls, but I'm confident that if it was one of them, they wouldn't reach out to me first.

Uncle Miquel would be the first.

Tired of the numerous questions spinning in my head, I sigh and finally drop my phone, just in time for the car to stop in front of a small building.

Music blares from inside, and I raise a brow.

“Is this the place?” I ask no one in particular, my gaze is not leaving the entrance, which is uncrowded.

Is this a bar or what?

“Yes,” Andre replies as they all wait for my order.

I nod and instruct. “Go down. I am looking for this woman. She is in some sort of trouble, so we need to help her.”

Andre exchanges glances with Rio, making me realize what a silly decision this is. People's businesses aren't my business unless they involve the Mafia.

“She is a relative, so get to work!” I thunder and shove the phone towards him, having them scurry out with Glocks tucked in their pockets so as not to arouse suspicion.

When they disappear, I step down, glancing around for any form of threat. Upon finding no threat and the street nearly empty, I proceed towards the entrance.

With Andre and the others sneaking into the hotel without going through the reception, which looks more like a box office, I walk in stealthily.

A robust woman is behind the counter, and she looks up immediately, reducing the volume of the music.

A smile flashes across her face, making me wonder if she does this with every single person that comes in here.

“I'm looking for this woman, did she lodge in here?” I demand from her without hesitation.

This is why I am here. I want to get it done and be out of here as soon as I can. And if this turns out to be a trick, I'm going to find the person behind it and deal with her.

I don't hurt women. I hate men who hurt women too, but there are other ways to deal with people who think they can make a fool of someone.

She looks reluctant, her smile fading as quickly as it came.

She maintains eye contact with me without an answer until it hits me.

I grit my teeth, cautioning myself not to do anything stupid. I fish out the wads of dollars in my pocket before tossing them towards her.

She catches it quickly before grinning and answering. “She is in room 3.”

I regard her with a nod before stalking forward. The whole place is practically empty. If my men can reach her before me, then it means this silly hotel is unsafe.

There isn't any form of security here.

Aside from that, the receptionist is unprofessional. If I were here to kill or kidnap this so-called Annette, this is how easy she would have given her away.

When I get to the hallway, I see Andre at the door, with his hand on the doorknob. I signal to him to go ahead, and he opens the door slowly, peeping in before stepping inside.

I follow him.

I'm sure the others are checking the other rooms.

The room is empty. However, there is evidence that someone is or was here.

I see an empty bottle of wine and a glass sitting pretty on a stool beside the bed, as well as piles of clothes on the floor.

I carefully glance around, signaling to him to move to the bathroom, while simultaneously grabbing my Glock.

Andre continues forward until he notices the broken door, prompting me to rush into the bathroom where I find a woman sprawled on the floor in a bathrobe, tears streaming down her eyes.

Is she drunk? Did she slip?

Andre has his gun pointed at her, just in case this is a trap and she wants to attack me. I signal to him to drop it so as not to scare the woman. I can protect myself, and he knows it.

Quietly, I knee on one leg beside her. Her chest heaves up and down as more tears roll down her eyes.

The sight of tears makes something tug at me.

If she is real, I will protect her with everything I have. But if she isn't, then she will bear the consequences of her actions.

Putting my Glock away, I raise a hand to tap her. But on second thought, I withdraw my hand quickly.

"Hey," I call out softly instead, making her go still. I watch her shut her eyes more tightly, squeezing out more tears. Leaning closer, desperate to touch her and assure her that it is fine, I ask. “Are you okay?”

Slowly, she opens her eyes, giving me a clear view of how brown her eyes are. Very dark brown. Mesmerizing. They pierce into me, making me aware of my strange actions tonight.

She forces her lips open before asking. “Who are you?”

I scoop my phone out and click on the message she sent me, then turn the screen to her.

Her eyes widen, and she starts to cry.

Her gaze does not waver, and it forces me to plaster a small smile on my face to assure her we can't hurt her, and she is safe with us.

The broken bathroom door clearly indicates that someone had broken in.

Whether he hurt her or not is what I can't figure out.

When Andre starts to speak into the surveillance earpiece, I jerk back to reality.

“Let's get you out of here,” I say softly before bending down to pick her up in bridal style.

She does not struggle with me. She allows me to carry her out of the room with tears still rolling down her eyes.

I walk past the receptionist, who has a curious look on her face. As soon as we step out, Andre gets the door, and I place her inside the passenger’s car I was seated in a while ago.

I gesture to Andre to hand over the car keys and when he does, I make my way around to the driver's seat.

Once seated, I assist her with the seat belt while maintaining eye contact with her. Another tear slips through her eyes, and I catch it with my thumb before muttering. “You are safe now.”