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Billion Dollar Hearts (Inconguity Series Book 3)

Page 3

by Thandiwe Mpofu


  “That’s the thing, as he was introducing himself, some really large—and so damn intimidating in a nasty way—men came over to where we were standing and one of them took Lawrence, forcefully directing him elsewhere. Just then, a very scary looking intimidating man—who gave me all sorts of bad vibes just by looking at him—came over, with his scary looking henchmen might I add. He came and stopped right in front of Caleb. Literally towering over him.” Sam explains. Her eyes are wide open in remembered disbelief no doubt.

  “Damn Chloe, you should have been there. I have never seen a man cower and shake when faced, head to head with another man before. Granted, the newcomer had this vibe about him, like raw, lethal kind of. . .”

  “Evil.” I offer meekly, already imagining who the man was. It was definitely Caleb’s father, Giovanni.

  “Yeah, exactly! He looked evil, menacing and just downright scary.” Sam rushes to say. “And then they stood there looking at each other but as I was inching closer to listen to what they were saying, one of the goons who was there to guard the larger guy—fucking blocked my way. Like, he actually grabbed my hand and that’s when I felt the ripe danger in the air. Chloe, the whole damn ballroom was filled with tension, people were restless.”

  “What happened to you, did they manhandle you?” I question, getting worried. Now I have managed to do the one thing that I never intended to do. I have dragged my best friend into a situation I have no power over.

  “Oh no, your friend, the hot but really angry one, Max, stepped in smoothly and guided me away. The whole move was done so smoothly, I didn’t see it coming until we were across the ballroom.” Sam informs, her gaze seeming lost. Then she looks at me again.

  “So, Max led you away?” I question just to get the story right.

  “Yeah, and can I just say he is the least friendly person I have ever met in my life. Like he was angry at me and demanded that I stay out of trouble. Me, Chloe. I didn’t know there was even any trouble until you and I were about to leave.” She informs heatedly. Sam doesn’t look impressed by Max. Interesting.

  “So, you found me and then what?” I ask.

  “We were talking in the large kitchen right, and then the guy who was leading us out suddenly stops and then you also stopped. The next thing I know, you completely changed and then you shoved me back into the damn kitchen and you had the audacity to lock the damn door.” Sam looks at me, “Why would you do that Chloe? Don’t you know what kind of trouble you willingly stepped into?” Sam demands.

  “Sam . . .” I start but she doesn’t want to hear what I have to say.

  “There were large scary guys there that attacked you. There were going to kidnap you and for fuck’s sake Chloe, you didn’t even have any defense with you. And you can’t fight for shit!” She gets up, too riled and angry at me to remain seated.

  “They drugged you, in case you were wondering what’s going on with your headache that’s probably pounding right now, and the way you feel slow, yeah it’s because of that drug.” She throws her hands up in the air, sarcasm dripping in her voice. “You weren’t even wearing bloody panties, Chloe.”

  I look up at her, feeling heat flood my cheeks as I remember exactly what happened to the flimsy pair.

  “And no, I don’t even want to know.” She shudders dramatically, shooting me a smirk.

  “So, I knew that something bad was happening so I ran back like a banshee to the gala looking for Gideon but I couldn’t find him but I saw Max, who is really difficult to miss by the way, he was by the big entrance and I ran over to him.”

  “I told him that he needs to come quickly and I saw the indecision that crossed his eyes—as if something else was happening that he didn’t want to leave. But then, he followed me back to the kitchen, along with these other scary looking guys as well. As we ran back to you, I explained what I thought was going on and oh my gosh, Chloe. Max and his friends turned rogue, dangerous and badass in a split second, taking out their guns from parts of their bodies that I hadn’t noticed they were packing; and then charged right out the door. And just in time too, because you were already under, due to the drug they gave you.” Sam explains in a rush.

  Oh my gosh.

  It’s only then that my memory comes back to me. I remember pushing Sam to get back in the kitchen. I remember struggling with some really large men. I remember. . . Fred!

  “Oh my God, Sam. What happened to Fred? To John?” I rush out, my heart now hammering in the confines of my chest, threatening to burst out. Where is Gideon?

  She pauses, and this time, she is unable to look at me right on. That can’t be good. . .

  “It was bad, Chloe. Gunfire was exchanged, Fred got hit in the chest.”

  I gasp, my hands automatically shooting up to cover my mouth. NO. No, this can’t be happening. “Fred. . .”

  “No, Chloe, he is alive though. The guy is fucking tough that’s for sure.” Sam rushes to explain.

  “What about John?” I ask. Every nerve ending in my body paused in nervous, twisted anticipation. I’m hoping for the best but I know it’s bad when Sam pauses for a long, stretched out moment.

  “He is alive right?” I demand. I refuse to believe anything else. My mother used to say if you believe and hope for the best then you will get it. I chose to believe now.

  Chapter 4

  Chloe

  I wait with bated breath as I stare at my best friend whose cheeks are now streaming with tears. Her plush lips—which always have some kind of sexy lipstick but this time are void of any color—are trembling slightly.

  Just by looking at her, tears start making their way down my own cheeks, shock and that dreadful feeling of lose and guilt slowly making its way into my bloodstream. I don’t ever cry. I don’t like crying but this is an unconscious reaction to the grief that is suddenly inside me.

  No . . .

  “Oh, Chloe.” Sam’s voice is broken and is barely audible. The look on her face, breaks my heart even further because I know, even if she can’t say, I just know. I can feel the cold chill in the room, the goosebumps that grace my arms and legs.

  She is looking at me with a kind of sad caution that I have never seen my best friend with before.

  “Just fucking tell me already, don’t keep me in this painful state of unrest” I demand.

  This is all my fault. This is all on me. . .

  “He was found in the car bleeding to death from multiple gunshot wounds.” She pauses, her eyes filled with pity as she looks at me and I’m just speechless. No.

  “I was able to quickly remove the bullets but by that point, there wasn’t much I or anyone could do.” Sam explains softly, looking at me like I am about to lose my shit. I feel like I am about to lose it.

  “He’s gone?” I whisper brokenly, thinking of the silent resilience that was John. Always watching my back, always there silently watching and protecting me. I think of Fred and how he is taking this news, because of all the people who could be impacted in a devastating way by this drastic turn of events, it’s him. Since they were partners in crime. And maybe a little more, I’m not so sure.

  “I’m so sorry Chloe.”

  I gasp, sharp pain slicing through my insides in a split second. The raw pain that bursts within me makes me gasp for breath and I just can’t breathe right.

  “Sam . . .” I really don’t have any words. John. . .

  “I know it doesn’t mean much but I’m sorry baby girl.” She soothes, as she gets up from the chair to come and lie with me on the bed.

  Oh my God.

  My body is riddled with physical pain at the moment, but that pales in comparison with the mental and emotional pain that I’m feeling now. I’m not aware of my making any sound but I think I do because now Sam has her arms around me, rocking me back and forth.

  I’m blank. I feel blank. I can’t see anything apart from the mental image of John in my head. He’s there and he is looking at me with apparent disdain on his handsome face. Oh God, and Fred. . .
r />   I did this. I caused this to happen.

  “It’s all my fault.” I brokenly admit as my body rocks as much as possible on the bed.

  I have completely forgotten about the pain in my body, all I see, all I can feel is the banging of that gunshot. I can’t even allow myself to close my eyes because once again, someone that I was beginning to allow close to me is gone. And gone in the name of protecting me.

  Who am I to think that I am more valuable than another human life? What’s so special about me that I can still be breathing when the very threat to my being goes about destroying the people around me, reminding me in a brazenly evil manner—that I am next?

  “No, Chloe. The actions of evil, self-centered criminals, are not your fault.” Sam tries to reason with me.

  “How can you say that? John is gone. How do you expect me to live with that?” I choke out, my voice coming out as a broken whisper.

  This is too much. I can’t even think straight.

  “And Fred? How am I going to face him now knowing that he is laid up in some hospital facility somewhere, fighting for his life? And guess what? It’s also because of me.”

  It’s not Sam’s fault that I’m feeling this way. God knows I am the one who dragged her into all of this mess. I’m the one that has her name on the shit list now. No doubt they know of her close relationship with me. Just by being with me now, her life is in extreme danger.

  “Hey, look at me.” She says quietly but I can’t face her. How can I? “Look at me, Chloe.” Her voice is now stern, I can’t help to do what I’ve been told.

  “Do you really think that they didn’t know the high risks? That they didn’t know the stakes or what they were putting on the line?” She questions.

  “Yeah but this is different.” I counter, ignoring the useless tears that run down my cheeks. They are worth a damn now. Tears can’t bring John back to life.

  “Shh Chloe, relax. It’s all going to be okay.” She says but the doubt in her voice confirms her unspoken thoughts match my knowledge. It’s never going to be okay. Not ever.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was an execution, a prelude of some kind. And I just know. . . I am the big prize.

  I DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH time has passed. My tears have since dried and the gaping hole in my chest has since been widening since the time Sam told me of John’s death.

  The guilt I feel is irreversible and I just can’t let it go no matter what Sam says. Logically, I know there was really nothing I could do but I just can’t stop myself from feeling this heavy dead weight pressing down on my chest. And that weight isn’t letting up anytime soon.

  Not when the one person that will help me make sense of it all isn’t here. He isn’t here to hold me because I know—I can feel it—I want to fall apart.

  I knew things were different. I could feel it in the air since Gideon’s birthday dinner but now, now it’s deeply set in my bone marrow that all of this is different.

  It’s much more dire than imagined. And to think I was only after one bastard initially. . .

  “You are going to be alright Chloe.” Sam says through a yawn.

  I look at my strong and brave friend who has been with me through all of this hellish nightmare and notice the fatigue in her eyes. Her red rimmed eyes. She can barely sit up right as it is. As if she is about to fall over.

  “Have you slept, Sam?” I question, now worried. Again, I’m to blame for being so selfish. Thinking of myself when she is obviously in need of my support. I can just imagine the trauma she has to re-live. All because of me.

  “Sleep? How could I when there was so much chaos. I couldn’t just stand there as if I have nothing to offer. You needed me then and well, here I am.” Sam responds quietly. “And besides, I wanted to be here when you would wake up.”

  “Sam, I know you are mad at. . .”

  “Not now Chloe. I know you are sorry and didn’t mean to drag me into this but I would be damned if some asshole messed with my best friend.” Sam jokes, tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

  “Where are we? And did Max and Gideon get the guys who did this?” I question as anger—hot and violent—starts coursing through my veins.

  “We are at some kind of safe house of Gideon’s, out of the city. It’s pretty posh too.” She says with a barely-there wink, obviously an attempt to cheer me up but, it falls short, neither of us smiling.

  “And to answer your question, unfortunately those fucking assholes ran off. They even had a waiting car idling in the street. Max is fucking furious about that but he swears he will find them. He is especially worried about your man though.”

  “They ran off, dropping you hard to the ground. That’s the reason why your body is one huge ache with scratches and bruises.” Sam answers my internal question. Well, that explains it.

  “Damn.” I grit out.

  It’s then that it hits me that I was almost kidnapped and judging by everyone who got hurt and the loss of life in our camp, it’s obvious to say that those fuckers got it right way more than they hoped for. We have more casualties on our side, even though they ‘failed’ in their attempt to snatch me.

  But, it’s not over. I know that.

  A violent need starts to rise within me. I suddenly have this incessant urge to make them pay. Whoever the fuck they are, I want to make them answer and atone for every drop of blood they merrily shed.

  “Chloe, what are you thinking?” Sam questions. If there is someone other than Gideon who can read me, it’s Sam. She knows when my thoughts turn down a very bleak turn.

  The urge is so strong that it’s demanding and immediate release. The knowledge that those ugly henchmen escaped only infuriates me to no end. There is a nagging thought at the back of my head. Who were those guys and who do they work for?

  “Where is Max?” I question Sam but that’s not what I want to know. I want to know where Gideon is. I need him right now. I need him like I need to feel whole again. I feel like going out to cause all the mayhem and havoc that I can manage. I want to scream and I have all these other savage emotions in me that I don’t understand. How can I comprehend them?

  “You mean where is Gideon?” She fires back, with a raised eyebrow to which I just roll my eyes, am I that obvious?

  “I’ve known you for a long time and that little spark of anticipation in your sad, tired, drugged eyes is only for one person.” She says with a knowing, albeit tired, smirk.

  “As for Max, he went downstairs, he asked me to inform him when you were awake because he has something he wants to tell you but you know, we got caught up in all this. . .” She waves a careless hand around, sympathy now adorning her eyes making my heart race.

  “Tell me what?” I breathlessly murmur. Where is Gideon?

  “Tell you where he is.” A deep, low and demanding voice cuts in the conversation.

  I look up and right there by the door stands a tall, handsome male whose body attests to the weapon that it is. I watch as Max’s gaze tracks towards Sam and lingers taking her in like a possessive, starved man. Well then.

  Is it just my drugged senses or did Sam’s breath hitch? What’s that about?

  “And where would that be?” I demand. If there is anyone who has a bond with Gideon and knows his every move, it’s Max.

  “Where is he, Max?” I question again when the silence drags on as if to torture me, to suffocate me somehow when all I want is to be in the arms of the man that makes my soul rest.

  “He was taken in by the FBI last night.” He states—his voice void of any emotion, just clean, cold and straight to the point. I wonder how he feels right now, all of this falling on his shoulders. Like the death of his fellow brother. I know for a fact that they were more than work colleagues. And now, one of them has fallen.

  “Why?” I demand,

  “We don’t know yet.”

  “How bad is it?”

  At my question, Max looks at me with a strong gaze that speaks of its hardness. He remains silent
and Sam doesn’t say a word, which means one thing. It’s pretty God damn bad.

  Chapter 5

  Gideon

  So much fucking chaos everywhere.

  I sit alone in this God-forsaken interrogation room, making sure that I keep my facial expression neutral and impassive, acting like I am not even bothered or frustrated by being here—when internally, I am glaring at the dark window ahead of me. I know they are there watching me, thinking I am going to somehow crack, unfortunately, they are in for a rude awakening.

  I think back to a few hours ago. To a time when I was with the most beautiful woman in the room. The most exquisite being I have ever laid eyes on.

  God, I was so angry at her for the danger she put herself in. How could she have been colluding and conniving with that Lorenzo bastard behind my back? And to think she demanded my honesty. And now all of that is blown to hell.

  I stand up and start pacing. I need out of this place right now. I can’t stay here when I know that she needs me. I have no doubt that something went down and whatever it is, it’s not music to my ears. My instincts are screaming at me so loudly, demanding of me. Clawing at me to let the beast in me out but no, not yet.

  As I pace, I go through the possible scenarios in my head. Making a list of people of interest that I know definitely have something to do with the news from last night or whatever time it was. I have no recollection of time, these assholes think they are some kind of CIA division, making sure to keep me in here, feeling uninformed and out of touch with the pulse of the world, in order to stress me. I guess they are hoping that I will spill my guts out to them or something.

  At the top of my list is that damn syndicate and the man that runs it. The man obviously has a hard-on for me and just maybe for Chloe. Then there is also the issue of the bad blood between Giovanni and his son.

  That asshole, Caleb, is loose in the head but that anger towards his father can be utilized. I just need to know just how to extract what I need. I have only observed him from afar but it’s easy to spot a man who is a few cards short of a full deck. I wonder where the loophole is, because I know it’s there.

 

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