by Kelsie Rae
Chapter Fifteen
Kingston
Voices echo through the house and down to my office as I finish typing an email. It’s going to be sent to a few choice cartels who will be participating in Burlone’s tournament with me, and if things go according to plan, it’ll help solidify my strategy.
“Wait here,” D murmurs from the hallway before popping his head around the doorframe in my office.
“Hey. You have a visitor.” His voice is cryptic, piquing my curiosity as I look up.
“Who?”
“Dex.” My eyes open wide, showing him my absolute surprise as he continues, “I think you need to hear what he has to say. He also gave me this.”
Stepping forward, D hands me a folded piece of paper.
What the hell?
“Where did you get this?” I ask in disbelief. Regina’s swirling cursive is written across the front, and the sight puts all my senses on high alert.
“I told you; Dex gave it to me. He reached out and asked if we could meet.”
“And you went?”
He has the decency to look sheepish. “Yeah, I went. I didn’t want to stress you out or anything, and I know it was selfish of me to risk my life just to see my long lost brother but––”
“You just couldn’t help yourself,” I finish for him.
“Yeah. And it’s a good thing too.” Dropping his chin, he motions to the letter. “Read it. Then you can decide what you want to do with Burlone’s right-hand man.”
“Is that how we’re classifying him? Or should we address the fact that he’s your brother?”
With a sigh, he nods. “And my brother.”
Satisfied, I unfold the cream piece of paper and start reading. My breath gets caught in my throat as I scan the message a dozen times, confusion knotting my stomach.
Hey King, It’s me. First– I’m so sorry I snuck out. I screwed up, and that’s on me. But I want you to know I’m okay. Please don’t shoot Dex! He’s been watching over me. He’s been taking care of me. He’s been really good to me, King. He’s not like the other men. I know you’d kill me if I were in front of you right now, but I really care about him, and I’m begging you to give him a chance. He wants to get BOTH of us out of this situation and has information from Burlone that the tournament is a trap. I’m sure you’ve already been able to guess that would be the case, but Dex can confirm it. You can’t go. I don’t care if I’m sold or…whatever the plans are for me. Burlone is going to kill you if you show up, and I can’t let that happen. Especially because if I had listened to you, I wouldn’t be in this position in the first place. Just be careful, okay? And listen to Dex. He’s the only shot we have.
Love you,
Regina
Looking up at my best friend with my heart in my throat, I ask, “Did you read this?”
“Yeah.”
“And do you believe it?”
“It’s her handwriting, King. And let’s be honest, no one could make that girl do something she didn’t want to do. Plus, remember the picture from Burlone’s email? Her expression didn’t make sense. But now—”
“Now that she’s admitted she’s fallen for her captor?” I shake my head. Count on Regina to screw up so monumentally that I don’t even know what to do with the situation. However, the image of her from Burlone’s email comes to mind, and I try to analyze it from a different perspective. My fists tighten at my sides, crumpling the paper into a ball as I realize that my sister did indeed write the letter, and she did indeed fall for him as well.
Shit.
Apparently, I need to Google Stockholm Syndrome. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Reading my expression, Diece grimaces. “Yeah. It makes sense why she wouldn’t look terrified, ya know?”
“Do you think Dex cares about her, as well? Or is he just after her virginity? Or is this just a trap, and you’re playing right into his hands?”
“Give me a little more credit, King,” Diece seethes. “It makes sense why Dex would approach us to save her. Why he’d risk his own life––along with Burlone’s retribution if he ever found out––to keep her safe.”
Tapping my finger against my chin, I look at my right-hand man. “Do you trust him?”
“I don’t know,” D responds gruffly. “He seems genuine, but maybe my judgment is clouded because I’ve wanted him to be a Romano since I was twelve and saw him drive off with his mom. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking on my part that he’s changed. Regardless, I think you need to hear him out and decide for yourself.”
With a wave, I motion for him to invite Dex inside.
Seconds later, a man who looks eerily similar to my best friend steps into my office with his hands tucked into his slacks and his shoulders hunched.
“Take a seat,” I offer, dropping my gaze to the chair adjacent to my desk.
“Thanks.”
“What do you know about me?”
“Enough.”
“Enough to know that I’m pretty fucking good at being able to tell if someone is telling the truth or not?”
He holds my stare. “Yeah. I may have heard that.”
“Then let’s cut the shit, shall we? Did you fuck my sister?”
With a slight flinch at my derogatory term, he murmurs, “Yes.”
Truth.
So, apparently, that rules out the I-want-her-virginity theory.
“Do you care about her the same way she cares about you?”
“Yes.” He’s more confident this time. A hint of pride laces his tone as he admits it.
Truth.
“Am I walking into a trap?”
“Yes.” This time, I see him almost deflate with guilt right before my eyes. And I know the situation is killing him. He doesn’t want me dead, but only because he knows it would gut my sister.
Truth.
“Are you willing to betray the Allegretti family by giving us confidential information that, if linked back to you, will guarantee the skin being flayed from your body by Burlone? And that if we find out the information you give us is faulty, then we’ll do it ourselves?”
He swallows but doesn’t break my gaze, which only emphasizes his resolve. “Yes.”
Truth.
“And what do you want in return?” I almost want to laugh when I realize how similar this conversation is to a hand of poker. We’re both watching the cards unfold in front of us in little pieces of honesty and trust. And are now about to place our bets on each other, praying it’ll pay out in the end.
“I want your sister to be safe.”
My suspicion spikes, sensing a lie, or half of one anyway.
“Tell me the whole truth, Dex. I told you to cut the shit, remember?”
Bristling, he drops his head back in defeat and stares up at the ceiling. “You want the whole truth, Kingston? Fine. I want her to be safe. But I also want to keep her for myself because she already owns me. I didn’t ask for it because I’m not stupid enough to think it’s a possibility. I’m a fucking Allegretti who’ll be dead by the end of the week as soon as my men find out that I’m the traitor who screwed up Burlone’s plans by squealing to the enemy.” Dragging his hands from the top of his head and down his face, he brings his gaze back to mine. “So, yeah. If I can ask for one thing, then I want her safe. That’s it.”
“And you’re not going to ask for your own protection?” I push curiously.
“I’m not naïve enough to think I’d get it, Kingston. I’ve been in the game long enough to know you never really trust someone who’s always been your enemy, even when they show up at your front door to help you.”
“No. You’re showing up at my front door to help my sister. You don’t give a shit about me because of what your dad did to you as a kid. Or didn’t do, in his case. However, you haven’t always been an enemy to the Romano family. You’re a victim of an old man’s wrong decision, and I think we can both come to an agreement––if you’re willing to prove your loyalty.”
The man in front of me goes deat
hly calm, the anxiety from moments before vanishing into thin air as he comprehends what I’m offering. Little does he know, I’m not doing it for him. I’m doing it for his brother and for my baby sister. I’m righting the wrongs that should’ve never happened in the first place. I just pray I’m not going all-in on the wrong hand.
“And how do I prove my loyalty?”
Scratching the five o’clock shadow on my jaw, I tell him, “We’ll be in touch.”
Chapter Sixteen
Jack
Running my hand through my hair, I tug on the roots before shifting my phone to my other ear.
Gritting my teeth, I spit, “Yeah, I understand. I haven’t found shit on Burlone recently. His entire operation has been silent since the night of the poker tournament at Sin.” Ace’s face flashes through my memory before my boss’s voice pulls me back to the present.
“Three girls were reported missing that night. Three, Connelly. That number doesn’t include all the women from the last fifteen years that we can link to Burlone. Do you want me to get you the headcount?”
“No, sir.” I already know the answer by heart and don’t need a reminder.
“Then, where the hell are they?”
“I stayed at the casino all night. I was on Burlone the entire evening just like you told me to be. He disappeared into the elevator for about thirty minutes after he lost the tournament then showed up on the main floor and spent the night toasting opponents and having his ass kissed. You told me to watch Burlone, and I did. I can’t be in two places at once, sir.” With my hand clenched at my side, I picture Ace’s face a few days later while knowing it was partially my fault for not following her that night and protecting her. I’m just grateful she didn’t end up missing, but I know Burlone’s smarter than that. He’s too smart.
“Did any of his men leave through the front door?”
“Of course they did,” I grit out. “It’s Burlone’s fucking casino. They come and go as they please.”
“Watch your tone, Connelly.”
Releasing a heavy sigh, I offer my apology. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m as frustrated as you are. Like I’ve already told you, one of my guys was outside watching the front, but apparently, he didn’t see anything.”
“Sounds like laziness to me.”
With flaring nostrils, I search for an ounce of patience but seem to be running low. “It wasn’t laziness. His men know how to blend in when they want to. They know how to fly under the radar. Why do you think they’re always slipping through our fingers?”
“Not our fingers, Jack. Your fingers. And if you can’t bring me something soon, I’m pulling you off the case.”
I slam my hand against the wall in my shitty apartment, but it does little to ease my frustration. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“One more curse from your mouth, and there’ll be consequences,” my boss returns.
I sigh and release my clenched fist before sitting on the edge of the mattress in my room. “Look, I’m sorry, sir. Again. We just need a break in this case. Soon.”
“Finally, we agree on something,” my superior murmurs, grating on my nerves. “Every day you come up empty-handed is another day those women aren’t afforded their revenge. It’s another day scum like Burlone are left on the streets and continue the shit they do. I’ve got my superiors breathing down my neck for justice, and I’m sick of telling them that we don’t have shit, Jack. Sick and tired.”
“Me, too,” I add as the ever-present weight of my job digs into my shoulders a little more.
“Then get me those bastards, and get me those innocent girls.”
“Yes, sir.”
I hang up the phone and lie back onto the bed while staring up at the popcorn textured ceiling.
The question is…how?
Chapter Seventeen
Ace
It’s been hours since D drove his brother home then holed himself up in Kingston’s office. The two have been going at it with the door closed, trying to work the final kinks from their plan. Pacing the hall in front of his locked door, I finally slam my hands against it.
“This whole no-women thing is bullshit! Open up, Kingston! Let me help!”
Resting my head against the solid oak door, I wait for their verdict. The muffled voices go silent for a solid thirty seconds before the thick piece of wood squeaks on its hinges, and an amused smirk appears on D’s face.
“Why, hello, Ace. Fancy seeing you here.”
With a roll of my eyes, I shove him aside and step into the man cave. “So, what’s going on? What’s the new tidbit of information? And how can I help?”
A stressed Kingston crooks his finger at me, and I saunter over before plopping in his lap and kissing him lazily.
“You okay?” I can feel his stress as if it’s my own.
His fingers squeeze softly against my jean-clad thigh. “Yeah. We’ve been working on something. We just need to play our cards right.”
“Speaking of which,” D interrupts. “King, what does she know?”
“Not much,” he admits, appearing contrite. I turn in his lap and stare him down.
“I can help. You just need to fill me in. Plus, if we’re talking about playing cards, then I’m your woman,” I tease in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Leaning forward, King gives me another soft kiss before releasing a sigh against my lips. “We’ve been having discussions with a few of the men who are invited to the tournament. These men are scum, Ace, but they’re also superstitious fuckers who don’t trust anyone. For the past week or so, D and I have been proposing the possibility of Burlone working with the Feds.”
With my jaw on the floor, I screech, “Burlone is working with the Feds?”
No freaking way.
“No.” D’s laughter echoes throughout the room. “We’re just hinting at it.”
Wait. What?
“But why? And how the hell would you get them to believe you over Burlone?” I inquire, my attention switching from Kingston to D, then back to Kingston, begging either of them to fill me in.
“Because Burlone’s been acting batshit crazy lately,” D remarks matter-of-factly.
Kingston laughs dryly then gives me the details I’m craving. “The Feds have been sniffing around Burlone for the past couple of years, but Burlone was pretty good at dodging them until about six months ago. Burlone was getting desperate and decided to set up the Romano family in an attempt to throw the Feds off his scent.”
The tournament at Sin flashes through my mind along with memories of the first time I met King at the Charlette, piecing together my part and how I gave Kingston the date of Burlone’s plotting.
Kingston continues, “The only problem was that we found out about it and screwed up his plan. Instead of letting him frame us for all of the trafficking going on in the area, we picked up the guy he’d paid to drop off the girls on our property before the Feds could flag the operation. The buyer was ready and waiting at the pick-up site, but Burlone’s guy never came. However, the Feds were there to pick up the buyer anyway, which ended up making Burlone look shitty for not giving the buyer a heads-up. Since then, everyone’s been hesitant to work with him. All we’ve been doing is whispering the possibility that Burlone has been working with the Feds and set up the buyer. Unfortunately, we need to find something that will tip them over the edge and convince his colleagues that the rumors are true. If we can give them some kind of solid evidence that Burlone’s a snitch and has been turning in people to the Feds, then Burlone will lose his backing at the tournament.”
My forehead wrinkles in confusion as I process the information before stumbling on his last sentence. “What do you mean, his backing at the tournament?”
D answers my question while leaning against the doorframe of Kingston’s office looking like a stone-cold killer. “He’s planning on raping you and Regina in front of everyone before putting a bullet in Kingston’s skull at the end of the night. Burlone thinks the men coming to the tour
nament are all on his side since he’s worked with them in the past while the Romanos have always stayed far away from trafficking. He thinks they won’t care if he doesn’t honor the protection rules that are set in place for these very circumstances. If we can cast doubt on their relationship and prove Burlone’s a snitch, then they’ll back us instead.”
“And if they do back the Romano family?” My voice is shaky, and I’m sure my eyes are the size of saucers, but I swallow down the fact he just mentioned the possibility of me getting raped in front of a bunch of men before killing Kingston. Nope. We’re going to pretend that little tidbit doesn’t affect me at all.
Kingston’s chest rumbles with his response. “Then we pull the rug out from under the Allegretti family and put Burlone in the ground.”
If it were anyone else, I might flinch at the prospect of burying someone, but with a man as wicked as him, I feel almost giddy at the promise in King’s voice.
“Is that possible?”
“Don’t look too excited, Ace,” Kingston teases with a smile. It’s clear he’s pleased with my response to the glimpse of darkness he just gave me. “Yeah. It’s possible. If it looks like he’s working with the Feds. The rumors aren’t enough to wipe out an entire family, though, and if we take down Burlone, then we need to take down the entire Allegretti family. It helps that his right-hand man can vouch for the lie, saying he’s overheard conversations and shit, but we don’t think it’s quite enough. We need something concrete, which isn’t possible because he’s not a rat.”
“Rock, meet hard place,” D pipes up sarcastically.
Digging my teeth into my lower lip, I turn to King as a thought reveals itself to me.
No, it’s a terrible idea. But maybe…
A burst of adrenaline rushes through me, but I force my mouth to stay closed. Voicing a possible solution to our problem might end with a bullet in my own skull if the wrong person were to find out. But I also know I can’t risk that bullet winding up in Kingston’s skull, either, and if I don’t tell him my idea, then one might. Sensing my unease, he tilts his head and assesses me.