Chapter 9. Mia. 

Dylan's POV. 

The private jet landed smoothly on the tarmac in Florence, Italy, the hum of its engines fading into the quiet night. This mission was critical—an opportunity to secure a deal that would expand our influence into Europe. A dangerous cartel had been encroaching on our territory, and tonight’s meeting was to remind them why crossing me was a mistake.

Usually, I do this alone and not risk the lives of my clan members so recklessly, but they insisted, and I need them to be there in case shit goes sideways.

“Ah, Italy,” Liam said, stepping out onto the runway with a dramatic stretch. “The land of wine, romance, and fucking crime. Think we’ll have time for sightseeing?”

“Focus, you dickhead,” I muttered, scanning the surroundings. “This isn’t a vacation. After the mission, you can stick whatever is under your pants into whatever pussy you want.” 

“Harsh," he cries mockingly. “ But just thinking about it is making me a little excited." 

“Keep it in your pants.” I muttered not wanting the conversation to continue, but judging from his flirty and annoying personality, he wouldn't shut up. 

“Come on, Dylan. You’re wound tighter than a spring,” he teased, falling in step beside me. “This is Italy. At least try to enjoy the view.”

I ignored him, my mind already on the task ahead. Our team was small but lethal, handpicked for their skills and loyalty. We moved swiftly, meeting with our local contact in an abandoned villa on the outskirts of the city.

The negotiations were tense but went off easily and a few dead bodies. The cartel’s leaders left with their tails between their legs, the deal solidified in our favor. Another win for us.

—-

It feels like ten o’clock at night, but it's only five P.M. As fucked as it is after dealing with a few human body parts, I'm in the mood for a mean ass burger. 

I've been to Italy a few times and know where to get food fucking burgers that fit my taste. And yes, I know Italy is famous for their pasta and shit, but I would rather not eat tiny long shit that would make me remember the human Intestine. 

My favorite burger joint is right off 3rd Avenue, and not too far from a drive from where my hotel is and where we were staying for the night. Parking is a bitch in Naples, so I’m forced to park a few blocks away and walk there. Lima was ranting on and on about how he wants to bless the clubs with his presence and take some whores for the night. On and on about shit like that. 

I was about to snap at him when a flash of movement caught my eye. Across the street, a woman emerged from a sleek black car, her presence commanding. She had sharp green eyes, elegant blue curls that bounced with every step, and an aura that screamed trouble. She looked familiar, but it wasn’t until Liam stiffened beside me that it clicked.

“Dylan,” he said, his voice low. “That’s Mimi Ray.”

My jaw clenched. Mimi Ray, the second in command to Mia Valisteen. Mia—the woman who had escaped me four years ago, humiliating me in the process. I’d scoured the underworld for her since then, but she’d disappeared without a trace.

It was only three months ago I found out she was alive, she had built her own empire from scratch and now was one of the top five most feared and respected Mafia bosses in the world. “What’s she doing here?” I asked, my voice low and cold.

“How the fuck should I know?" Liam smirked, his eyes gleaming with interest. “Probably up to no good. Shall we find out?”

I eyed him, “Don't you want to, and I quote, “Bless some clubs with your presence?” I said, raising both my hands, my index, and middle finger up and down mockingly, a mocking smirk playing in the corner of my lips. 

“You wanna find out or not?” He asked, glaring at me before walking ahead of me.

I chuckled, following behind. 

Mimi didn’t notice us as she entered a dimly lit café, her movements precise and purposeful. I motioned for Liam to stay back as I crossed the street, slipping inside.

The café was quiet, the air thick with the scent of espresso and secrets. Mimi sat at a corner table, her laptop open, fingers flying across the keyboard. She was focused, her lips pressed into a thin line.

I leaned against the counter, watching her. Liam joined me a moment later, his grin widening. “She’s good,” he murmured. “But not good enough to escape your radar forever.”

“She’s not the target, yet.” I said, though my mind was already racing. If Mimi was here, Mia couldn’t be far behind.

Mimi suddenly looked up, her green eyes narrowing as they landed on us. For a split second, surprise flickered across her face before it was replaced by a mask of indifference.

—

The private jet touched down in New York as the golden glow of dawn stretched across the horizon. I stared out the window, watching the city come alive. Its chaos felt like home—a sharp contrast to the quiet elegance of Italy. But the mission had left a bitter taste in my mouth.

“Welcome back to the madhouse,” Liam said, stretching his legs as we descended the jet’s stairs. He gave me a sideways glance, his grin a mix of mischief and curiosity but didn't say anything. 

We climbed into a convoy of sleek black SUVs waiting on the tarmac, the air inside charged with unspoken tension. As the cars navigated through the city’s bustling streets, Liam, sitting beside me, tapped away on his phone.

“Updates?” I asked, breaking the silence.

He looked up, his expression unusually serious. “Our network’s been monitoring any movement from Mia, but we haven't seen anything yet.” 

“She knows where Mia is,” I said firmly. “She’s t

oo loyal to her not to.” I said, my words carrying another message.