We should have dinner with your father this weekend. Set it up.
Asshole.
I might not be the head of the Mancini mafia, like my father or my brother, but I grew up surrounded by some of the most powerful and influential mobsters on the planet.
And while I might not want to be a part of the mafia business, I’m not stupid.
The thoughts nagging me for the past few days since having lunch with my father start to get loud. He wants something more from me than just sex, I’m sure of it. Me or my family?
After demanding to see my father, I’m sure it has something to do with my family.
I’m hurt and angry with myself for thinking our relationship is more than it is. A contract. But I’m determined to replace out what his secret is. Starting with what’s inside his locked-up office.
Like I say, I’m not stupid.
Mobsters are a lot of things, including thieves, so I know a lot of ways to get inside places.
While Connor thought I was scrolling on my phone, I was videoing him. A trick I learned while listening to two of my bodyguards several years ago.
I’m not sure if it worked, or if I got the angle right, but when I press play on the video and pinch the screen to zoom in, I know it’s right.
“Yes!” I whisper, despite no one being here.
George is downstairs, waiting for me. He doesn’t know I’m not going into the office. Well, I am, but I’ll go in a little later.
I lied to Connor. But then again, I think he’s lying to me, and I’m not going to sit around any longer and let it continue. There might be nothing but boring office stuff, but I replace it weird he has it so locked up when he lived by himself.
Curiosity killed the cat, and I’m about to replace out.
I watch the video a few times, then punch in a combination. Nope. I try another one. Nope.
On the third try, it clicks.
Shit.
Am I doing this?
Once I cross the line, there’s no turning back.
Connor may just want his privacy, or have highly commercially sensitive Barrett Enterprise information in here. No. Everything is digital these days—that’s no excuse.
I don’t know what I’m going to replace, but I’m hoping it’s not a kink room. Connor might not be my real fiancé, but knowing he’s done dirty things to women in a secret sex room he hasn’t invited me into somehow irks me.
Then again, maybe it’s just a boring office.
I’m well aware a man like Connor wouldn’t marry a woman like me. A shrewd and gorgeous businessman would marry a lawyer or some classy woman who owns an art gallery, or a duchess from England.
Not the daughter of a mobster.
So, why?
Is he the type of man who sees me as an opportunity to manipulate my family? Or plan to hurt them?
I rub my arms as the hair on them stands on end.
Would Connor do that?
Is my father right?
If there are answers behind this door, I need to know. I turn the door handle and push it open.
My mouth drops open.
It takes me a minute to realize what I am staring at as I take a few more steps.
I stand there, my eyes roaming in horror. When I see my photo, bile rises, and I throw my hand over my mouth.
Then run.
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