Page 171 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

Disgust crawls up my throat, .

“Work how?” I ask coldly even though I already know.

“He mentioned hostessing first.”

“Meaning?”

“Mistress arrangement if necessary.” He drags the words out like he can tell I’m about to explode.

“Tell Varela if he offers women for debt repayment again, I’ll bankrupt him, then bury him alive.”

“Knew you’d hate it.” Enzo snorts softly.

“I don’t traffic women.”

“No shit.”

My gaze drifts instinctively toward Christine’s closed room, my attention pulling back to priority.

It’s been fucking days and Blue still hasn’t opened her eyes.

Three days with every second biting off my skin like termites eating wood.

“Anything on the number?” I ask suddenly.

“No.” Enzo delivers the same bad news he’s been delivering for days.

And the answer stings every single time.

“We traced the burners as far as we could,” he continues. “It’s been dead ends. Rotating SIMs. Ghost routes. Whoever’s doing this knows what they’re doing.”

I stare harder through the window, my free hand balling into a fist.

“We’ll find them,” Enzo soothes.

“We need to.”

“No.” His voice stiffens slightly. “You need to sleep.”

“That’s not happening.” I huff once through my nose.

“You look like hell.”

“I feel worse.” I shut my eyes briefly. “And until I find whoever this is, there’s no rest for me… For us.”

My head feels constantly full these days. Like rage and exhaustion have been beating against each other for seventy-two straight hours.

I feel a shift in the air and turn instinctively toward the trail.

Christine is standing by the doorway of her ward, one hand braced lightly against the frame like she still doesn’t fully trust her balance yet.

The bruising along her face has faded slightly over the last few days, yellow blooming beneath purple now, but she still looks fragile in ways that rile me up.

And she’s smiling.

It catches me off guard enough that I forget Enzo is still on the line for half a second.

“You there?” He asks.