Stepbrother's Lust: A Forbidden Mafia Romance

Reagan’s POV

I closed the door behind me and stood in the hallway for a moment, my mind still on my father’s words.

Stay away from them.

I almost laughed again. Who were they? And why had the mere mention of them been enough to make my father look like he’d seen a ghost?

I started walking, my hands slipping into my pockets as I made my way through the quiet hallway. His reaction kept replaying in my head. The way his face had paled, the way he’d avoided my eyes, even that tiny twitch of his finger against the desk. My father was many things, but nervous wasn’t one of them.

Father didn’t scare easily. He was usually the reason other men did. I’d seen him silence entire rooms without raising his voice, and I’d never once seen him lose control.

Tonight, I’d seen something different.

Fear.

Tonight, he’d shouted at me to sit my ass down.

I scoffed quietly.

Something was seriously wrong.

And then there was the conversation I’d overheard outside his study.

Don’t move anything yet.

I’ll handle it.

I hadn’t asked who he’d been speaking to, and I wasn’t going back to ask. Whatever it was, I’d find out eventually. If my father wanted to keep his secrets, he could. I’d find them myself.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen then hit accept.

"He’s been found."

I stopped walking.

For a moment, I said nothing.

"Where?"

The man gave me the location and waited.

I looked toward the entrance of the estate.

"I’ll be there."

I ended the call before he could say anything else.

Finally.

I’d been waiting for this.

I headed outside and got into my car. I didn’t waste time starting the engine, pulling away from the estate almost immediately. The roads were quieter than usual, but my mind was anything but.

The man they’d found was supposed to be one of the people feeding information to the group we’d encountered tonight. At least, that’s what we believed.

I wasn’t stupid enough to treat it as fact just because someone had given us a name. Still, if the man knew anything, I wanted to hear it from him myself.

Maybe he’d tell us who his boss was. Maybe he’d tell us where the information was going. Or maybe he’d sit there and lie until someone gave him a reason not to. Either way, I’d find out soon enough.

The meeting point was an isolated industrial stretch on the edge of the city. When I arrived, several vehicles were already parked around the area. I stepped out of my car and immediately noticed the men waiting for me.

The man who’d made the call approached first.

"Sir."

I gave him a brief nod.

"Where is he?"

He turned and pointed toward the far side of the lot.

A man was kneeling on the ground with his hands restrained behind his back. A burlap sack covered his head, hiding his face completely. Even from where I stood, I could see him shifting restlessly.

I walked closer.

"This is him," the man said.

I stopped a few feet away and studied the captive.

He looked ordinary enough. That was usually how these people looked. Nothing about him suggested that he’d been moving information between organizations or helping someone get close enough to threaten my family.

He was just a man on his knees with a sack over his head.

I glanced at the men around him.

"Pick him up."

Two men immediately stepped forward. They grabbed the captive by the arms and hauled him to his feet.

He started struggling.

"Wait—"

One of them tightened his grip.

The captive stumbled as they dragged him toward the waiting vehicle.

"Get off me!"

Nobody answered him.

They opened the back door and tossed him inside. His body hit the seat hard enough to make him grunt.

I watched without saying anything.

Then I turned toward the man who had arranged the pickup.

"Good work."

He nodded.

"Don’t forget to transfer my remaining deposit."

I shook my head lightly.

"Right."

I raised two fingers and beckoned toward my right-hand man, who was standing nearby. He immediately walked over.

"Settle him."

He nodded, reached into the case he was carrying, and counted out the remaining cash before handing it over.

The man accepted it, checking the amount before slipping it away.

I turned toward my car.

I had barely taken two steps when his voice stopped me.

"I didn’t take you for the kind of man who makes personal pickups."

I paused.

Looking back at him, I gave him a small smile.

"I just wanted to check my goods up close and personal."

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

I didn’t wait for a response. I turned and walked back to my car.

The drive back was quiet. I drove ahead while the vehicle carrying the captive followed behind with two of my men inside. I kept my attention on the road, though my thoughts occasionally returned to the man we’d just collected.

I’d seen enough people like him to know that appearances meant very little. If he’d truly been passing information, then he’d spent a long time believing nobody would catch him.

Cocky

My phone rang.

I glanced at the screen before answering.

"What?"

"Boss, the guy won’t shut up."

I frowned slightly.

"What is he saying?"

Before the man could answer, I heard shouting through the phone.

"Leave me alone!"

The captive’s voice.

"My boss will find me! You people won’t get away with this!"

There was a muffled sound in the background.

Then the captive shouted again.

"You don’t know who you’re messing with! He’ll—"

"Shut the fuck up."

Another voice cut through his shouting.

There was a brief struggle, followed by a sharp impact.

The line went quiet for a second.

Then the first man spoke again.

"Quiet now."

I said nothing.

I could hear the engine in the background and the faint movement of the men inside the vehicle. The captive breathed heavily.

I kept driving.

After a few seconds, I ended the call.

I didn’t need to tell them what to do. They knew better than to let the man make enough noise to draw attention to themselves, and judging by the sudden silence, they’d understood the message.

My eyes returned to the road.

His boss.

That was the interesting part.

The man had said it without hesitation.

Not someone will come.

Not they’ll find me.

My boss will find me.

Which meant he believed whoever was above him had enough reach to track him down.

That made him either very confident or very stupid.

Maybe both.

I drove the rest of the way without making another call.

The warehouse was one of the quieter properties under my organization, far enough from the main roads that nobody paid much attention to what went on inside. It wasn’t a place we used often, which made it useful for exactly this kind of situation.

The vehicle carrying the captive arrived shortly after mine.

I watched from a distance as the doors opened. Two men dragged him out.

The burlap sack was still over his head.

The moment his feet touched the ground, he started shouting again.

"Where are you taking me?"

Nobody answered.

"My boss will find me!"

One of the men pulled him forward.

"You people have no idea what you’re doing!"

He stumbled, nearly falling to his knees.

"Let me go!"

One of my men lost patience.

He kicked the back of the man’s leg.

The captive dropped with a grunt.

"Shut up."

The man tried to push himself back up.

"I swear to God, you’re going to regret this."

Another man grabbed him by the arm and hauled him upright.

"Move."

They dragged him toward the warehouse entrance.

I stayed where I was for a moment, watching. There was something almost amusing about how quickly his confidence disappeared and returned again. One moment he was threatening them. The next, he was asking where they were taking him. Then he remembered his boss and found his courage again.

Interesting.

The warehouse doors opened.

They pushed him inside.

The captive stumbled forward and caught himself before falling. The men followed him in.

One of them grabbed the burlap sack and adjusted it slightly before stepping back.

"Don’t make any noise."

The captive breathed heavily.

For a second, he remained quiet.

Then he muttered, "You don’t know what you’re getting yourselves into."

The man standing closest to him looked at the others.

"When the boss comes to see you, I don’t want the first thing he hears to be a squealing spy pig."

The captive’s head turned toward his voice.

"I’m not a—"

"Quiet."

The man pointed toward the floor.

"Stay there."

The men turned and walked away.

Their footsteps echoed through the warehouse as they headed toward the exit. The heavy doors closed behind them.

Silence settled over the room.

The captive remained on his knees, his hands still restrained behind him and the burlap sack covering his head. He shifted slightly.

"Hello?"

No answer.

He tried again.

"Anyone?"

Nothing.

His breathing became heavier.

He pulled against the restraints, but they didn’t give.

"Damn it."

He lowered his head.

For the first time since they’d taken him, there was no one around to impress with his threats. No one to hear him claim his boss would come. No one to reassure him that he’d get out.

The truth about Father could wait a little longer.

I’d just found someone who might have answers of his own.

And this time, I wasn’t going to let anyone tell me to stay away.

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