“Hi, Bella.” I walk over to her, crouch down, and she moves closer to kiss me.
If she saw the gun, she’s either not scared of it, or she’s acting like she didn’t see it. I don’t like secrets, and this is not a woman I want to keep secrets from.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” I tell her.
“It’s okay. I guess I should wake up and get ready.”
Fuck… I don’t want her to leave. We’re vague, and I’m at that place again where I need to do something to continue this thing we have or call it quits.
“It’s super early, do you have to leave now?” I ask.
“No.” She runs her finger over my beard.
I have an hour tops. I’ll get my men together, and we can meet at the address Gibbs sent. “How about I make us a great breakfast before I take you home?”
“Home…” she says on the edge of a whisper, like she’s thinking about it.
“You look like you don’t want to go.”
“Would it be bad if I said I didn’t?” she asks with a careful expression. Her thick black lashes cast a shadow over her high exotic cheekbones.
“No.” I don’t have to think about the answer to that.
“When am I going to see you again?”
“Tomorrow. I have a few things to take care of today with work. It’s important stuff, or I’ll get my ass fired.”
She chuckles. “That’s okay. I get to see you tomorrow?”
“Yes. For dinner. We’ll go out to a real restaurant this time. On a date.”
She smiles and I find myself getting lost in her beauty. Not just what I see, what I feel. This woman is the definition of beauty inside and out.
“A date. I like the sound of that.”
“You know what sound I like more?” I can’t resist. One more time. One last time for the day.
“What?” she asks, feigning innocence as she allows the sheet to fall from her breasts.
My gaze drops to her gorgeous body, and I stare wondering how the hell I’m going to leave her today.
“I think you know. Come here,” I call her to my lips, and she comes to me.
I’m playing a dangerous game here. We both are. But fuck, I can’t get enough of her, and while she’s here, she’s mine.
I take her back to bed.
One last time.
* * *
It’s nearly six.
P.M.
I ball my fists at my sides as I enter my office to keep from slamming them both into the wall.
Gibbs is with me. He’s just come in and closed the door. I don’t want him to see me lose it. He has a certain respect for me, and I don’t want to lose my shit in front of him because things are out of control.
All fucking day, we’ve been looking around for Mario, and we got nothing. The address turned up with shit, and who was there wasn’t talking. I sigh and turn to face Gibbs when I get to the desk. He looks at me and inclines his head to the side.
“I don’t want to say this, Donny, but I don’t know if we can trust these guys here. I know it’s shit to point fingers, but fuck, the guy disappeared like someone warned him we were coming,” Gibbs states, and I frown because he’s fucking right.
Warned is exactly what I thought when we got to the house and saw no sign of Mario. Except for a room with a sofa bed and a broken tv where two idiots had been sitting watching the news, the place was cleaned out. Looked like no one else had been there in months. His scent was there though. Mario’s motherfucking scent of whiskey and cheap cologne. I’m like a shark, out for blood and I picked up on his scent like a predator from hell stalking its prey. That’s how I knew he was there. The most I could do was give those two fuckers who denied knowledge of his existence a damn good beating they’re not likely to forget.
They were spies, or part of the shit. There’s definitely still more where they came from.
“No need to be wary of saying stuff, Gibbs. I definitely believe you’re right,” I tell him with a nod.
The thing about spies is, they always reveal themselves eventually, but it’s that in-between stage you have to worry about. The part where shit happens, and you have to try and guess who it is.
“It was a done deal. I saw him myself. He’d just gone to bed, and by the time we rallied, he was gone. The fucking bed wasn’t even there anymore. We should have busted his ass when I first saw him,” Gibbs scuffs.
“No Gibbs you did the right thing by contacting me.” He did. Gibbs might be a tough ex-navy man but he’s not about fighting. He’s in his late fifties and hasn’t needed to get into any kind of fight in years. It was just him and a camera guy who saw Mario. They would have needed backup.
The time we all took to get there too was nothing. It took me an hour and a half so I can’t even blame myself for that last time I indulged in Willow. The fact that Gibbs told me Mario had just gone to sleep is also fucking suspect, and highlights the fact that it must have been someone from our group that gave him the heads up.
“The fucker got away.”
“Fucker had help,” I hiss. I’ll bet the fucking spy stood right next to me and knew we weren’t going to see shit. Going on a mission that would come up with nothing. “Gibbs, we can’t trust anybody here. No one who was already working here. I think we need to keep this amongst Chicago. That means apart from Claudius and the capos, we speak only to each other, Lois, and Saul. That’s it. Nobody else.”
“I agree. What now though?”
What now? Getting a call from Alex and one of the other guys is fine. We chill, and we’re friends. Getting a call from Claudius himself is something else. He doesn’t speak to me unless he has to. Under the old setup, I ran with his brother Lucien. Then Lucien gave up the business to live a normal life, or what could be classed as normal, for his girl and his kids. Claudius took over and rules with an iron fist. I never question it because the man knows what he’s doing. When he has reason to call, it’s not good, and it’s not a good look for me.
“The boss wants him dead,” I answer. That’s what Claudius said.
It’s clear by now that Mario is guilty as fuck, or we’d at least be able to talk to him. The days for talking are over. It’s time for action. Time to eliminate the problem.
A shout steals my thoughts. It’s in the hallway outside the office door. A few more shots echo and cursing, then the door bursts open.
Lois and Saul come in dragging a fat Eastern European man by his arms and the little hair he has left on his head. I’ve seen this guy before. He works the kitchen, washing the dishes. He’s begging for his life. Lois pulls his shotgun on his ass, and the man shuts up. Saul bares his gold teeth, looking a sight.
The man drops to his knees and starts shaking.
“Lei parla inglese?” I ask him if he speaks English because he sounded like he was speaking Dutch when he was shouting, and my Dutch is shit. I figured he must speak some Italian and English if he works here. English would be better for him if he wants to live.
“Yes,” he answers.
“Good,” I say and pull my trademark knives from my pockets. The fucker starts shaking all the more when he sees them. These are Pa’s hunting knives. He gave them to me when I joined the business.
“Please, I can’t help you,” he begs.
“Let me be the judge of that.” I smirk. “Let’s hear it, boys. Why is this fat fuck in my office?”
“His name is Dushkin. You need to take a look at his phone,” Saul replies with a wild smile that even I think looks evil, like he’s been possessed. “You’re gonna love this.”
He hands me a phone. When I look at the screen I almost breathe fire. On it is one of the pictures of Amadeo, Leo and Xiou that Gibbs got for us last week. Those pictures are in the safe in my office.
I growl unleashing my rage. Glaring at Dushkin, I pull out one of my guns and hit him with the back of it. He wails as he falls back to the ground and shields his face.
“You motherfucker!” I seethe. The fucker is a spy, a rat, and he’s cle
arly been snooping and sharing intel.
“He’s been calling Mario as well, last call was early this morning just before we met at the house,” Lois says. “He got a message from a guy called Jacki giving the heads up. Jacki’s on the security team here.”
So this is the answer. Fucking Jacki was with us earlier. He worked with us for hours and I never suspected him. Everything that’s happening though is exactly what we suspected. Fuck. This is such shit.
“I can explain,” Dushkin says quickly.
I laugh without humor. “I’m gonna love to hear this. Go ahead, make my day.”
“I was…” He pauses and looks at me, eyes darting back and forth, sweat beading on his upper lip and in his light blond hair. “He just wanted to keep updated. That’s all, nothing strange.”
“You broke into my office and into my safe!” I point out.
“I didn’t mean any harm by it. I…I…I’m kitchen staff I thought you wouldn’t tell me what was going on if I ask. That was all.”
I’ve had enough of this. This guy here must think I was born yesterday. I send a kick to his groin and he starts crying.
“Motherfucker, you expected me to believe that? Tell me what’s going on right the fuck now!” I bellow.
“I don’t know anything.” He winces.
“Fuck you, dog. You got into my safe. Very skilled for a kitchen worker.” I need to get everything out of that safe. I foolishly thought I’d keep everything business related here instead of my house. “Tell me what is happening. Mario is up to something, and you’re all in on it.”
That’s my fear. I think we just brushed the tip of the shit with our discovery and whatever is happening is still happening. Mario is still at work. I’m also very aware that as much as I thought I hadn’t underestimated him, I did. We all did.
“Please… I don’t know.”
He’s lying. I can tell he is.
“What are you people trying to hide?” It’s obvious they don’t want us to stop their plans.
“I don’t know anything,” he continues to maintain.
Fucker. He’s lying, and he’s obviously not scared enough of me to tell the truth. Maybe he needs a little help. Gibbs stands back, and Lois and Saul make room for me as I lunge for him and hold my knives at his throat. The bastard starts crying harder, weeping.
“I will cut out your viperous tongue if you say that one more time. Tell me now. What. Is. Going. On!” I press the blade of the knife to his throat harder, and the skin breaks.
“Mario… he has more arrangements to get girls to Xiou. Their using the hotel as the base. They have a few more business deals to settle. Billion dollar deals with clients. He was working with a lot of people from before Pablo retired. When Pablo left, it opened the door for easy work. You… weren’t supposed to find out. Mario promised he had it under wraps.”
Listen to him singing like a canary. I knew there was more shit. I just knew it, and now we have confirmation.
“But we did find out.” And now I have more questions. “Now tell me what exactly is Mario doing for Xiou that he can’t do for himself?”
Xiou wouldn’t need a guy like Mario. There has to be more to this story.
“He has access to people who will buy the girls.” His voice shakes when I grit my teeth. I think of Amadeo and Leo. Who else is involved that we know? “And the hotels are perfect to get girls.”
“What else is there?” I demand.
“He sets up the sales with Xiou. When the money comes in he puts it through the business. The hotel has basically become the central point for the exchange.”
I groan inwardly.
That would explain how Claudius’ name came up in evidence. The feds are always trying to find ways to investigate our earnings. This shit would have definitely made their day. Money from selling girls and evidence of selling girls. And the plans are still in motion. If this all blew up Claudius would get the blame. Shit.
“Where is Mario?”
Dushkin goes quiet, and tears continue to run down his puffy cheeks. “Tell me now, or I’ll kill you.”
“He’ll kill my family if I tell you. I have a wife and a baby. Please, please.”
“Motherfucker, you have a family and get involved with shit like this?”
An alarm rings through the office, almost like an answer to my question. It sounds like the fire alarm, but it’s not.
“That’s the alarm I set up in Mario’s office,” Gibbs says quickly.
“Take care of this piece of shit. I’m not done with him,” I instruct. “Guys, back me up,” I order Lois and Saul, and we take off like we’ve got lightning attached to our feet.
I leap up the stairs and get to Mario’s office just in time to see the fucker stuffing his pockets with something from his desk drawers. His computer flickers on lighting him up with the glare from the screen.
When he sees me, he pulls his gun and starts shooting.
I duck, taking cover behind the cabinet. I put my knives back in the sheath and grab my guns. I manage to shoot two bullets but he evades them and jumps through the window.
I don’t waste time. Adrenaline pumps through my body and sends me after him.
I leap through the window and land on the boarded path of the docks. Mario is ahead of me, running and pushing people out of his path. He waits to get to the end of the dock, where the boats are moored, to start shooting back at me.
I shield behind pillars but keep moving forward, evading bullets and people. Those who can see and hear are already taking cover. This is so bad already because it’s going to attract attention, most notably the cops. They’re just as big here as they are in the States on anything mafia related. No one wants trouble, and this is next level bad. The last thing I want is anybody getting caught in the crossfire.
Mario gets to the end of the dock, and a nightmare plays out before me when he grabs a girl who was trying to get away. My blood turns to ice when he holds a gun to her head. That makes me stop in my tracks and I lower my gun instinctively.
“I’ll do it, you motherfucker. I will kill her!” he barks and glares at me with wide, terrified eyes. He looks scared, but he knows he has the upper hand right now.
“You asshole. You screwed us all. You had it good.”
“You fucker, listen to you all high and mighty. I have it good. My job with you people was just a route to success. I don’t know how you found out what was going on, but you aren’t going to stop me. I had to go through hell to get to where I am today,” Mario shouts and presses the gun to the girl’s head.
I look to her as she starts to cry and begs for her life. Mario responds by laughing.
“Let her go. She’s not part of this. Let her go!” I demand.
“You telling me what to do, asshole. You’ll never be the boss of me,” he shouts back.
In the distance, an engine roars to life. A motorboat speeds toward us, and he glances over his shoulder. When he starts to back away, I realize that must be his getaway.
He pulls the girl with him, and I raise my gun again. I catch sight of Lois with his shotgun on top of the yacht to my left.
He nods to me, and I run forward at the same time he fires a shot and gets Mario in his shoulder. Mario drops the girl and winces as blood pours down his arm.
I shout as the fucking bastard decides to be spiteful and shoots the girl. I’m too far away. Helpless again. Useless. The boat arrives, and he holds his arm, blood dripping from it as he throws himself onboard.
A stone drops in the pit of my stomach when I see Xiou on the back of the boat eyeing me dangerously as the boat takes off. He just stares at me, his jet black hair billowing out in the wind, with a firm expression that’s enough to tell me I just signed my death warrant.
I push that out of my head and focus on the girl bleeding out in front of me. She’s crying and screaming. I rush to her and drop to my knees to check where she’s injured.
Fuck. He got her in her stomach. Shit. There’s blood pouring fro
m the wound.
“Call an ambulance,” I cry. She stops crying and panic takes me when her eyes roll back in her head. “Call for an ambulance!” I shout louder.
The blood on my hands reminds me who I am. I can’t look at it and not remember that day so long ago when I held my mother in my arms and watched the light leave her eyes.
Sirens wail in the distance and more blood comes.
Danger and death. Those are the two constants in my life.
I think of Willow, and I know in my heart now that I can’t see her anymore. Our worlds can’t cross again.
The situation here just became more dangerous than it already was.
It’s too dangerous for her to be with me.
Chapter Eleven
Willow
I gaze back at my reflection in the mirror as Lurlene spins me around and allows me the first look at my face. She’s spent the last half an hour doing my hair and makeup, and I look like a million dollars.
“Oh my God,” I breathe, smiling at my reflection.
She stands behind me, smiling wide with her glossy red lips the same color as mine.
“You better like it, honey. You look fantastic,” she says and straightens up. “Red is definitely your color, and your hair like that will keep that man of yours happy for life.”
I laugh and tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear. It’s down in long graceful waves she teased to perfection. I actually look better than I did on my wedding day, and that’s saying something considering I’m just going to dinner.
It’s not just my physical appearance though. There’s a light in my eyes that twinkles, and I recognize the old me coming back.
“Thank you. I love it. I really do. You’re sure the red doesn’t make me look like a slut?” I tease. I’m joking. Even if it did make me look like that, I’d wear it just for the difference to my usual nude and pink tones.
“Isn’t that the look you’re going for, sugar?” she laughs. “It’s okay to look like a slut if you’ve already snagged your guy and he knows what you’re like in the bedroom. You’re just renewing the visual so you can keep him.”
The Sting of Love: USA Today Bestselling Author Page 10
