His Assistant – Sinful Mafia Daddies Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Mafia Tags Authors: Natasha L. Black Advertisement

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I stand too quickly and have to grab the sink. This is a terrible idea. Worse than Dominic’s half-baked plan to stash my dad in a safe house, even. I’m too smart to walk into such an obvious trap.

And yet…

I go back into the bedroom and pace, phone clutched in one hand. Dominic would never let me go. He would take the phone, give me that hard look, and tell me I’m staying inside. He would say the safest thing I can do is nothing. I am so tired of doing nothing.

I change into black leggings and a black sweatshirt, hoping it’s inconspicuous without being suspicious. I put on sneakers, grab my purse, and shove my phone inside. My hands are shaking so badly it takes me two tries to zip the bag.

I look at myself in the mirror. I look awful. Pale. Puffy-eyed. Hair a mess. It’s exactly the chaotic, desperate look of a woman who’s willing to put her own life in danger for someone she loves.

I put one hand over my stomach. “I’ll keep you safe,” I whisper.

The main elevator is definitely not an option. There are guards there, and even if they didn’t physically stop me, one look at my face would send someone running to Dominic. I need another way out.

The service elevator is my only option. There’s a staff corridor behind the pantry on the second floor that leads to it, and the elevator goes all the way down to the back entrance. There’s also a code. One I don’t have.

I do have a decent memory and a dangerous level of stubbornness, though. I leave my room quietly. The hallway is empty, but I feel watched anyway. Maybe there are cameras. Maybe there aren’t. Maybe I’ll get caught before I even make it to the stairs.

I don’t.

The second floor is dark except for the pool lights glowing faintly through the glass doors. For one stupid second, I think about Chiara finding me there the night I couldn’t sleep. How she told me Dominic was in love with me. How I wanted to believe her.

I push the thought away.

In the pantry, I find the staff door and slip through it. The hallway behind it is narrow and plain compared to the rest of the penthouse, which is almost comforting. Just white walls, gray floor, and a keypad beside the service elevator.

I stare at the numbers. Chiara had tapped them in while talking about imported tile. It was four digits. I try the first combination I remember. Red light. My heart jumps into my throat.

“Shit,” I whisper.

I try again.

Red light.

My hands are sweating now. If the keypad locks after too many wrong tries, I’m done. Worse, an alarm might go off, and then Dominic will find out.

I close my eyes and picture Chiara’s hand. She was holding a smoothie. She had to use her pinky for the last number because her hands were full. I try again.

Green.

The elevator opens.

I almost cry from relief. The ride down takes forever. Every second feels like a chance for someone to stop me. I expect the elevator to freeze. I expect Dominic’s voice over a speaker. I expect Rafe to be standing on the service level with that look on his face, like I’ve disappointed him.

The doors open. No one is there. That gives me pause. Someone should be here, guarding the hallway. This is all a little too easy. The service entrance shouldn’t be empty.

I stand there, listening. Nothing.

I should turn around. I know I should turn around. Instead, I push through the back door and step into the alley.

Cold air hits my face hard enough to make me gasp. The alley smells like rain, trash, and the kind of bad decision you can’t take back. A security light buzzes overhead. At the far end, a dark car waits near the curb.

It’s not one of Dominic’s. I don’t know how I can tell from here, but the whole thing feels wrong.

My suspicion is confirmed when my phone buzzes.

Get in.

I look back at the service door.

This is it. This is the moment where I can still fix it. I can go upstairs, call Dominic, hand him the phone, and let him be furious. He might yell. I might yell. He would lock down the city. He would do whatever violent, terrifying thing he thinks needs to be done.

Maybe he would find my father. Maybe he would fail again.

The car’s back door opens. No one gets out. I hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.

I can still see the blood on the pavement. I can see the outlines of the bodies. My father was taken violently, and this may be my only chance to reach him.

Deep down, I know this may be the worst mistake of my life.

I walk to the car anyway.


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