“If she owns this hotel, that’s exactly who she is.”
“This situation keeps getting weirder by the minute.” Zeke frowns. “Why hasn’t she called us and let us know that she’s safe?”
“What if she doesn’t want to see us?” Xander asks, and the atmosphere in the car changes on a dime.
“Nico said she tried to call me. He thought she left a voicemail, but she didn’t.” We all glance at each other before I turn my eyes back to the road.
“Of course she wants to see us. She loves us,” Zeke mutters. “And I don’t give a fuck who her mom is, we’re taking our girl home with us.”
I bring the Lamborghini to a screeching halt and toss the keys to the valet as we run into the hotel. We don’t know what room she’s in, and there’s no way a halfway decent hotel would hand a woman’s room number to three strange men. This hotel is a shitload better than decent, and the woman in question is the owner’s daughter, so I have no idea how we’re going to find her, but I do know that nothing will stand in our way.
But before we can come up with a plan, we’re approached by a smartly dressed guy with a shaved head and the squarest jaw I’ve ever seen. “Sirs, I believe you’re looking for Ms. Constantine?”
Who the hell is this guy, and can we trust him?
Without waiting for a response, he tells us to come with him and walks away. With no other way to find Lily, we follow him through the lobby to a large private area. Finally, he stops outside an ornate black door and knocks softly before pushing it open without an invitation. Swallowing a ball of dread along with the acute concern that we might get our heads blown off, I follow him inside. We should have brought one of the dozens of weapons that were stashed in the back of the minivan, but it wasn’t exactly feasible to sort through grenades and semi-automatics with the cops hanging around.
“West!” Lily’s voice is like music to my ears. “Xander! Zeke!” She launches herself into my arms, and I bury my face in her hair, squeezing the life out of her.
“Thank fuck, princess. Are you okay?”
Her face is wet with tears. “I’m okay. They took my phone and I tried to call from Nico’s but you must have been in the air and I was going to leave a voicemail but then a call came through and then the cops were on their way and I had to get out of there—” She gasps for air.
Snarling, I brush my fingers over the purple bruise blooming across her cheek. I fucking hate that someone hurt her. She shivers, which makes me feel like an ass. I push a dark curl behind her ear and cup her beautiful face in my hands. “It’s okay. We’re here now.”
“Come here, shorty.” Xander’s voice is little more than a growl as he pulls her from my arms so he can hug her too. The distance gives me the opportunity to scan her body, and I’m relieved that she doesn’t appear to have any major injuries.
Xander finally lets her go, but Zeke stays back and just stares at her.
“Hey.” Her soft voice seems to break whatever spell he was under, and he reaches her in one long stride. Picking her up, he crushes her to his chest.
A throat clears, and we all turn to see an elegantly dressed woman with long dark hair and eyes the exact same color as Lily’s. Her icy glare sends a shiver down my spine.
Lily blushes beet red. “Guys. I’d like you to meet Ludovica Santangelo. My mom.”
Chapter
Seventy-Three
ZEKE
Taking a seat at the huge table that dominates the room, I pull Lily onto my lap and bury my face in her hair. Ludovica eyes me suspiciously, and while I’m mindful that she’s the head of the Mafia and I currently have my hands all over her daughter, I gotta say, I don’t give the smallest sliver of a fuck.
I inhale Lily’s sweet scent and squeeze her until she giggles and squirms. “Zeke. You’re going to crush me.”
I relax my grip just a little and press my mouth to her ear. “You are going to get the spanking of your life when we get home. Mafia princess or not.”
She wraps her arms around my neck and offers me one of her sweet smiles. “I sure hope so.”
My cock jumps at the thought of punishing her and taking care of her after. Maybe I won’t even wait until we get home.
“Mr. Cavanagh, may I have a word with my daughter?” Ludovica says in a clipped tone. Of course she knows who I am. Given the fact I’m dating her daughter, I have no doubt she knows my shoe size and what color underwear I currently have on.