Dangerous Secrets: My Mafia Stepbrother

At this moment, Tony noticed Isabella staring at Ariel, who was cooking, and he said, “The boss arranged this on purpose, finding someone to cook with a taste similar to Lilly’s, so it would be easier for you, dear wife, to accept.”

They were both well aware that Lilly was a great cook.

Isabella also particularly liked Lilly’s cooking. Isabella had never expected that Emanuele would go to such lengths to find a cook whose flavors resembled Lilly’s, just to cater to her tastes.

When the food was served, Isabella took a bite and couldn’t help but squint. Indeed, the flavor was almost the same as Lilly’s.

The familiar taste made Isabella even happier; she wouldn’t have to readjust to a different taste in her meals.

Today, Emanuele had gone to New York, so Isabella didn’t need to wait for him to come back for dinner; she just needed to fill her own stomach.

Meanwhile, in New York, NightVibes.

At this moment, several clerics appeared on the scene and began their conversations.

Emanuele was most familiar with Rocco, and they nodded at each other.

“I heard that Emanuele’s sister has already given birth to a son for Rocco. I even thought of going to give gifts at the time, but Rocco simply said that for the safety of the child, there was no need to come, just send the gifts over,” Clark said with a smile.

Rocco remained expressionless, under the scrutiny of the others, his reaction remained calm.

“I believe my actions were reasonable. If it were your own child, would you want to be surrounded by so many onlookers, possibly including some with ulterior motives? If something were to happen, it would be disastrous.”

“Of course, Rocco, I think you did well,” Isidoro replied. “Children are gifts from heaven, precious and fragile. Not allowing so many people to watch is also a way of protecting the child.”

Rocco nodded at Isidoro.

“And you, Clark? How are things going with your beauty? Planning to get married?”

“Married? That’s far off. Our relationship is just right at the moment, still in the stage of free love. I believe this stage is the freest and happiest. As for marriage and such, it’s still too early.”

This was actually an excuse Clark made for himself; he absolutely couldn’t admit that his relationship with Madilyn was still in the developing stage.

Madilyn had an excessively guarded mindset towards him. Although it seemed like she had obediently compromised with him, based on Clark’s experience as a playboy over the years, he knew that Madilyn didn’t truly like him.

Her affection seemed more like a form of pleasing him.

This made Clark feel uncomfortable.

He had been trying very hard to change Madilyn’s attitude towards him. No matter how much he pleased her, bought her things, gave her gifts, or took her out, Madilyn remained as stiff as a wooden doll.

Her smiles, expressions, and even intimate gestures all seemed predetermined and very stiff.

Clark knew that Madilyn didn’t like him, but he had the patience to make her like him.

However, right now, in front of so many people, how could he let others know that such a playboy like him was unable to win over a woman?

Clark could only lie to save face!

However, as soon as he finished speaking, he noticed Emanuele staring at him the whole time.

That look, as if it saw through everything, knowing what peculiar thoughts he had in mind.

Clark looked at Emanuele, with an innocent expression, his eyes showing a “don’t speak out of turn” look.

Emanuele smiled and didn’t mention the matter.

He brought up his own troubles.

“You should know, I had a batch of weapons stolen and brought to New York, but I have no idea who took them. Since we are currently in New York, I wonder if anyone can provide assistance?”

New York City is vast and not his familiar territory; searching will be a bit of a hassle.

“Emanuele, you could ask Jessie Campos; perhaps she knows,” Isidoro said. “Of course, with my intelligence capabilities, I could also gather information on their whereabouts, but this will take some time. I don’t think you could afford to wait that long.”

He knew that such matters needed to be resolved quickly; at their rate, it was very likely that the weapons would be sold and the perpetrators would escape abroad, making it much harder for Emanuele to find them.

When Emanuele heard the name Jessie Campos, he hesitated.

He couldn’t help but furrow his brow; it seemed like this was the only way.

The night in New York was bright with lights, especially for the bars, lively and full of colorful lights shining inside. Young men and women were shaking their hips on thedance floor.

The strong smell of alcohol permeated the air, and Emanuele sat in a small booth nearby.

Before long, a woman approached.

She was wearing a black dress, paired with black stilettos, and a wide-brimmed black hat on her head.

Her face was heavily made up, with fiery red lips, giving her a look of someone in her thirties, with a hint of coldness in her eyes.Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

This was Jessie Campos, the iron lady who dominated the entire North American underworld.

Although she appeared to be a refined woman, not much different from other urban women on the street, deep down, she was particularly ruthless and brutal.

She engaged in arms trading, human trafficking, drug prostitution, and many other things that even most men wouldn’t dare to touch, but Jessie dared.

“Hello, Mr. Lombardi,” Jessie flashed a smile at Emanuele and extended her hand to him.

“Hello, Mrs. Campos,” Emanuele shook her hand.

Jessie was actually already married, using her husband’s surname. Her husband was an arms dealer. Three years ago, her husband passed away, and Jessie directly took over his business and expanded into many illegal industries, multiplying the scale several times.

And New York was her headquarters.

“I heard your warehouse had a batch of weapons stolen and brought to New York?”

Emanuele nodded.

“This is a difficult matter; I generally don’t help others with these kinds of things,” Jessie lit a cigarette and smoked, looking particularly elegant.

Emanuele understood Jessie; she wouldn’t help others easily unless there was something in it for her.

“I owe you a favor,” Emanuele said to Jessie.

If he had mentioned money or anything like that, he knew Jessie would definitely have scorned it.

She was already the master of New York City, and she didn’t lack that kind of money.