by Kelsie Rae
She smiles nervously then takes a slow step back and lets me scoot out of my chair. Rounding the table, I rest my hip against the black felt top and tower over Burlone while feeling every single eye in the room watching my every move. If I was anyone else, I might crumble from the pressure, but I bask in it.
“Do you know what we do to traitors, Burlone?”
“I’m not a fucking traitor, Kingston,” he spits.
No, you’re not, I think to myself. A cocky smirk finds its place on my face. Even though I haven’t gotten away with this yet, I need to appear like I have.
“Well, let’s see what our fellow associates have to say then, shall we?” I look around the table. “Gentlemen? If you think this man deserves to die a slow and painful death, raise your hand. If you don’t, then I’ll let him go, you’ll pay for your women, and we’ll play the tournament as if this never happened.”
I keep my face straight and indifferent when, in reality, my heart is pounding against my chest like a jackhammer. The hand has officially been laid out for all to see, and now, I have to find out if they bought it. If I’ve won. Slowly, one after another, hands are raised into the air.
All except one.
“There a problem, Mr. Russo?”
The man in question has the eyes of a snake and the history of one too. My father always hated him, and so have I. I’d give anything to see him and his entire organization burn.
Mr. Russo clears his throat and looks pointedly at me as if I’m the one about to be wiped from the earth instead of Burlone.
“I’ve seen your evidence,” he begins. “I’ve seen the official FBI letterhead with his picture on it. But I know Burlone, and I’m having a hard time believing what you’ve shown me. I think you’ll need to give me a bit more proof before I can condemn someone I once considered a friend to a traitorous death.”
Fuck.
My mind scrambles for a Hail Mary that might help us pull this off, but I can’t figure out what to do. Dex goes to open his mouth to interject when a feminine voice to my right distracts me.
“Burlone?”
All heads swivel in the same direction where a girl with soft blonde hair stands in a tight dress that leaves little to the imagination. Her shoulders are back, and her fiery eyes are set on Burlone. I don’t know their history, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out the likelihood that he screwed up her life the same way he screwed up Ace’s. He doesn’t bother to answer her, not deeming her worthy, but she persists anyway. “Do you know what the FBI does to traitors?”
The room is deathly silent, and I don’t move a muscle other than chancing a glimpse at Dex. What the hell is going on? I’m given a mirage of a smile before it disappears into thin air, and he looks back at the girl.
She continues with a glare at her captor. “We toss them back to their own kind, letting them fend for themselves.”
Burlone shifts in his seat before gritting out, “What the fuck are you talking about, bitch? Shut your filthy mouth before I make you.”
“Shhh,” she tsks as if she were talking to a toddler. “I’m an undercover agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and we had a deal. As soon as you found a buyer for me and the transaction went through, we’d storm the castle, throw your friends in jail, and you’d be off the hook. However, there was one condition I had. Do you remember what it was?”
Burlone opens his mouth to answer, but Dex slams the butt of his handgun into the back of his head, making his neck snap forward and his chin drop to his chest. In a daze, he shakes his head, so the girl answers for him.
“You guaranteed my protection. You told me I wouldn’t be touched. But I was…countless times. And now, your associates know the truth. You’re a fucking traitor, and I hope they make you pay for it slowly and in the most painful way possible.”
Burlone sputters, “I-if you were an FBI agent, why would you out yourself in a room full of mafia bosses?”
She shrugs. “I’m dead, anyway. Might as well take one asshole who’s a liar down with me for what he did. Mr. Russo, you said you wanted proof. Now, you have it. He’s a traitor who was plotting against all of you with my team to save his own skin. If I weren’t guaranteed to be dead by the end of this conversation, I’d give you physical evidence as a nice little cherry on top. But for now, you’ll have to take my word for it.”
An onslaught of questions attacks me at once as I stare at the girl in front of me. Who is she? What the hell just happened? Did Jack know? Is this a ruse? A trap? It can’t be.
Mr. Russo straightens his tie then looks to me. “And now, you have my vote. Gut the poor bastard. And she’s right. Make it slow. Make it hurt. Make him pay for being a rat.”
“With pleasure.” I smile, feigning confidence when all I feel is confusion. “Unfortunately, my utility bag is at home, and we don’t know how long we have until the Feds storm the castle, as the undercover agent so eloquently stated, so I think we’ll be going. Dex?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to need you to escort her to my car too.” I tilt my head toward the FBI agent, putting the rest of the room at ease with the promise of her demise, as well. In reality, I’ll be returning her to Jack after he answers a few of my questions because her presence wasn’t part of the plan. However, I’m not going to say I’m ungrateful for the part she played.
If she hadn’t stepped in, Mr. Russo would’ve never been swayed, and the people I care about would’ve never left this room.
“Done.” Raising his hand in the air, Dex slams the gun against Burlone’s head again, harder this time. His body slumps in his chair instantly before Dex reaches into his suit pocket and retrieves a set of zip ties, placing them around Burlone’s slackened wrists and ankles. Then, he turns to the blonde girl and asks, “Do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?”
With tears in her eyes, she whispers, “I’m done fighting. It never did me much good, anyway.”
There’s something about the defeat in her voice that brings a fresh wave of pity. Maybe she can talk with Ace for a few minutes before we return her to Jack. Seems to me that she could use a listening ear for all the shit she’s been through. I can’t even imagine, but I can guarantee Burlone will pay for it with his blood.
Nodding, he tosses an unconscious Burlone over his shoulder then reaches for her handcuffs. As he tugs her toward the exit, the rest of us watch in fascination because none of us expected that turn of events––not even me.
“What about the rest of them?” Mr. Carbonne asks, eyeing the cuffed women with collars around their necks cowering in the corners.
“They’ve all been tagged by the Feds and are being watched. I’ll take care of them. But, just to confirm, if I were to be able to wipe their identities, would you be interested in purchasing?” The words taste bitter as they leave my mouth, but I keep my expression indifferent.
Mr. Russo adjusts himself through his pants. “With pleasure.”
“I understand, Mr. Russo. And the rest of you?”
Jack made it clear that we’d need evidence on tape if he had any hope of arresting them, and I want to make sure we don’t leave any loopholes for them to slip through.
A chorus of yes’s echo throughout the room, and I respond with a wicked smile.
“Good. Gentlemen, it’s been great doing business with you.” Placing my hand on Ace’s lower back and leading her to the exit, I add, “We’ll be in touch soon.”
Once our feet hit the driveway, a swarm of FBI agents disperse from the trees, rushing the house with weapons raised and dark masks covering their faces. Ace nuzzles into my side for protection as a satisfied Jack approaches us.
“Did we get what we needed?”
A recording device is tossed to him by Ace with her hands still linked together.
“Yup. You’ll have to pardon the glitches, though.” She smirks. “Very finicky little piece of equipment. But we got the evidence you needed of all the men agreeing to purchase the women.”
>
“Finicky, huh? Funny…it was working just fine when I taught you how to use it.”
With a shrug, she lifts her hands for me to unlock. “Right? Weird. Hey, King, wanna help a girl out?”
“I dunno. I kind of like you all tied up,” I tease, fetching the key from my jacket pocket. I wasn’t stupid enough to put them into the center pot. If anyone is going to put my girl in cuffs or take them off, it’ll be me.
Shuddering, Jack takes a few steps back toward the house. “Aaand, I think that’s my cue. Thanks for your help. You’ve saved a lot of women from a pretty shitty future.”
“Hey, Jack,” I call out before he disappears with the rest of his men.
“Yeah?”
“You never told me you had an undercover agent in that house.”
Dumbfounded, Jack says, “We don’t.”
Then who the hell was that girl? Seems I have a few more questions to ask, but they won’t be directed at Jack. We might’ve found a truce for a short period of time, but it isn’t going to be a long-term thing. I don’t mind him taking out the trash for me, but I’m not a rat, and our lives will always be at odds with each other.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
A beat of silence follows before I wave him off. “Yeah, you’re right. Forget I said anything.”
“See you around, Jack,” Ace adds, ending the conversation.
“You too, Ace.”
This time, Jack really does leave. If there wasn’t an undercover agent in that room, then who was the girl who pretended to be one? And what was her motive?
A dainty little cough brings me back while Ace quirks her brow and raises her hands in the air.
“A little help, King?”
Sliding the key into the cuffs, I unlock Ace’s hands first, then her collar before peppering soft, open-mouthed kisses along her skin. A tender smile in place, she looks up at me with a sense of ease even though her hands are still shaky in my grasp.
“You okay?” I murmur. I know she’s strong. But she’s also precious. And tonight, she just came face-to-face with her childhood nightmare for a second time. That’s gotta mess her up…at least for a little while.
Sighing, she admits, “I will be. I think I’m still processing everything, ya know?”
Yeah. So am I, I think to myself.
“Let’s get you home.” I open the passenger door, and she slides in without protest. Once she’s situated, I round the front then get behind the wheel and back the car out of the premises. Turning around in the passenger seat, Ace watches the massive house fade into the distance before asking, “What about your sister, Dex, and Gigi?”
“What?” I ask, hitting the brakes. “Gigi?”
“I told you she was there!” Ace shouts, obviously freaking out that I didn’t instantly reassure her that Gigi’s being taken care of. “The girl in the red dress with the bruised face. We can’t leave her with all those men and all those agents. Please, King. We need to turn around or something.”
She’s losing her mind, so I place my hand on her bare thigh as my mind searches for the girl in question.
“There was only one girl in a red dress,” I murmur.
“Yeah. Gigi.”
On a laugh, I mutter to myself, “No fucking way.”
Turning in her seat, Ace gives me a puzzled expression before reaching over and shoving my shoulder. “What’s so funny? I’m not kidding! We need to go back for her.”
“I should’ve known,” I mumble under my breath before voicing a little louder. “When did you first meet Gigi?”
Pinching her brows together, she thinks about it before answering. “I don’t know. A few months ago? We met at the diner in the middle of the night after I got done counting cards and Dottie said she looked like we could both use a friend, pretty much setting us up on a blind friend date. We hit it off, and I guess it became a tradition.”
“So, you’d never go anywhere else? Do anything else?”
Ace looks confused, and maybe a bit annoyed too, as she tells me, “What else was there to do? Before you, my life revolved around counting cards, eating, and sleeping. That’s about it. Why do you ask? And what’s with that sneaky smile on your face?” She shoves my shoulder again, begging me to put her out of her misery.
“My mom used to call my little sister Gigi when she was a baby. Regina means Queen in Italian, which my dad found fitting, but Mama Romano thought Regina sounded way too grown up, so she gave her that nickname. She used it until the day she died, but Regina was only three or so. I never would’ve thought she’d remember something like that.”
The color drains from her face.
“What are you saying, Kingston?” she whispers.
“I’m saying my sister fooled us all. The alias she gave you was her childhood nickname, and I was too preoccupied to put the pieces together.”
Digging her teeth into her lower lip, Ace clarifies, “So Regina is Gigi? My Gigi?”
Again, I cackle. “Yup. Sneaky little brat.”
Ace joins in before adding, “No wonder she loved seeing me steal money at the Charlette. Seems you two had a rocky few months there.”
“Yeah.” I sober, remembering all the fights and slammed doors. “We did.”
She laces her fingers through mine before bringing the back of my hand up to her lips and placing a gentle kiss against it.
“I’m here for both of you. If you need anything, let me know.”
Leaning across the center console, I meet her in the middle and give her a quick peck on the lips. “I will. Love you, Ace.”
The grin that nearly splits her face in two is contagious, and I find myself smiling right back. I never thought I’d say that to anyone. But with her? It just slipped out, and I don’t regret it in the slightest.
“Love you too, King.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jack
“Connelly, get your ass in here,” I hear from down the hall. With another slap on the back from one of the men on my team, I head to my superior’s office.
Poking my head through Agent Reed’s door frame, I ask, “Yes, sir? You wanted to see me?”
“Yeah. Get in here.”
I follow his orders and take a seat across from him. Jonathan Reed is as put together as always in his crisp, white shirt and black slacks. Hell, even his shaved head looks freshly polished. My mouth tilts up in the corner before I smooth my features. The asshole has had it out for me for as long as I can remember, and he’s never been one to congratulate me for my successes––even when it benefits him personally.
Once I’m situated, he continues, “I wanted to congratulate you on the bust.” Bullshit. “We’ve been chasing Carbonne, Russo, Biancci, and Moretti for a long time, and I’m impressed you were able to bring them in.”
I cross my arms over my chest and lean back in my chair. “Thanks. Like you said, it was a long time coming.”
“It was. Do we have enough evidence to make it stick?”
“Yes, sir. We have multiple eyewitnesses, the suspects’ voices on tape admitting their intent in purchasing a girl or having purchased one in the past, and enough DNA on the premises to keep them in jail for the rest of their lives.”
“Good.”
A tense silence follows his comment, and I shift in my seat.
There’s something in the way he’s staring at me that confirms my earlier suspicion. He’s still an ass, and a congratulatory conversation was not on the agenda for our little visit.
I can feel the but coming. My anxiety spikes.
“But,”—there it is—“we’re still missing a very important piece in your case. Wanna tell me who?” With his fingers steepled in front of him, an unamused Agent Reed stares at me pointedly.
Gritting my teeth, I mutter, “Burlone Allegretti.”
“That’s right. Your anonymous tip brought in four of the five. The problem is that there’s still someone out there, and that’s unacceptable.”
“Yes, sir.”
<
br /> “Celebrate tonight, then bring me my final man.” He waves his hand in the air, clearly dismissing me. There’s just one problem.
“And if I can’t find him?” I ask.
Bringing his gaze back to mine, he answers, “Then you still failed, and I can’t close your case. Is finding Burlone going to be a problem?”
Yeah. He’s dead.
I clear my throat. “No, sir.”
“Good.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ace
When I see Dex’s car pull up to the house, I rush toward it and swing the passenger door open before practically tackling Gigi with hugs.
“G! I’ve missed you so much! I can’t believe you’re Kingston’s sister! I had no idea. Neither of us did. Your brother thought it was hilarious, by the way. Are you okay? I couldn’t find you. I’ve been freaking out. I’m so glad you’re here.” The words keep tumbling out of me as I squeeze the crap out of her.
With a soft laugh, Gigi returns my embrace. “I’ll be okay, Ace. And I’m glad my brother doesn’t want to shoot me for putting all of you through the wringer.”
I wave her off. “You’ll be fine. Promise. Come on.” Grabbing her hand, I try to pull her into the house when she stops me.
“I’ll be right there. Do you think you could take Q in for me?”
I tilt my head in confusion before registering the undercover FBI agent in the back. Her skin is pale; her hair a tangled mess hanging around her hunched shoulders. There’s a cut on her lower lip and bruises scattered along her arms. Whatever she’s been through, it’s been hell. She looks lost. And alone. And in much worse shape than Gigi. Glancing back at her, I see the need for a minute alone with Dex written plainly across her face. I’d be a terrible wingwoman if I didn’t give it to her. With a knowing smile and a final squeeze, I turn my attention to the stranger in the back.
“Oh. Hi,” I start. “I’m Ace. And you’re Q?”
The girl stares blankly out the window, not bothering to respond. My heart breaks for her.