Endless Love

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Endless Love Page 8

by Drake, Tabatha

She does the same, quickly raising her veil. “It’s me,” she says.

  I gasp. “Roxie Roberts?”

  Her head tilts. “Dani,” she corrects.

  “Holy shit.”

  I take a breath. I was kidnapped with a movie star.

  Whoa.

  “How did you get here?” I ask quickly, glancing at the door.

  “That woman brought me in,” she says.

  “Who is she?”

  “The Boss of Snake Eyes.”

  I deflate. “Oh, fuck.”

  “Have you seen Caleb?” she asks. “She was brought here with me, but I haven’t seen her.”

  “No.”

  Dani’s face falls.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” I say. “Dante will come for us. Fox, too.”

  She looks up. “You were with him, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How was he?”

  I smile. “Oh, you know. Tall, dark, and ridiculously handsome. You’re a lucky girl.”

  She laughs, a bit of sadness in her eyes. “Thanks.”

  “He spoke Russian to me,” I add. “It was pretty hot.”

  “I love when he does that.”

  The door opens and we drop our veils.

  Gio’s mother pauses by the sofa and raises her arm, gesturing for us to follow her.

  We rise and walk to the door.

  “They’re coming,” I whisper, low enough for only Dani to hear. “Hang in there.”

  Dani nods. “You, too.”

  Chapter 15

  Archer

  Well, when you can’t get back into the United States legally, there’s always a Russian mobster’s private plane.

  Luka used every connection he had to make sure our departure from Europe was airtight. Our plan to get the girls back cannot be compromised and we need everyone on their game.

  I’ll worry about getting my papers in order after this is all over.

  The seven of us sit around the plane, hovering somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. Our seats are turned to face each other as we pore over everything we know. Admittedly, it’s not much, but it’s enough to start forming a plan.

  Dante leans back in his seat and rubs his tired eyes. “The tunnels are the safest bet,” he says. “We can enter them through a warehouse just off the casino.”

  Lilah grunts from her chair beside me. “Oh, great. The dusty, bootlegger tunnels again. How fun.”

  “It’s better than busting down the front door.”

  “Not nearly as fun,” she says with a shrug. “But I’m still in.”

  “And you’re sure they reach the house?” Fox asks.

  Dante nods. “The estate sits about a mile from the casino on the shoreline. The family used to smuggle booze from the house to the casino back in the 20s. Assuming they haven’t sealed them off, that’s how we get in undetected.”

  Luka squints. “They’d have some sort of alarm, yes?” he asks.

  Boxcar glances up from his laptop. “Already on it,” he says. “According to last year’s financial records, the Zappias purchased a gold package from Brickton Enterprises. Looks like a full upgrade on their estate.”

  “What’s in that?” Fox asks.

  “A whole lot of cheap-ass cameras and a few CX-22Cs marked-up to about twenty-five grand,” he answers with rolling eyes. “Pure theft.”

  I glance at the confused faces around the cabin and smile. Old Sparky at it again.

  “Can you override it?” Lilah asks him.

  Boxcar turns back to his laptop again. “Yes,” he says. “I can.”

  Dante nods. “Then, we’ll make that top priority as soon as we land. What do you need to make that happen, Box?”

  “Oh…” His fingers fly across the keys. “About fifteen more seconds.”

  Dante stands up out of his chair. “Wait, really?”

  Boxcar grins and turns his laptop around to show the rest of us.

  We all lean forward to get a closer look at the full-color video of the Zappia estate’s front lawn.

  “Moral of the story, kids,” he says. “Never use a cloud-based security firm like Brickton Enterprises.”

  Sofia pokes me. “How does he do that?” she whispers.

  I smirk. “That’s Sparky.”

  “Can you see the inside of the house?” Dante asks.

  Boxcar takes control and clicks around, shuffling through angles of the kitchen and the dining room and—

  “There.” Fox points at the screen. “Bedroom 4.”

  Boxcar goes full-screen and we see her. A girl paces back and forth in a bare-bones bedroom wearing black from head to toe. Her face is concealed but we can easily see the chain latched around her ankle, connecting her to the bed.

  “Dani,” Fox says.

  “Are you sure?” Lilah asks. “She’s wearing a hood.”

  “I’m sure.”

  He leans back and nods at Sofia, who quickly gets closer to take a look herself.

  “Damn,” she whispers, her skin turning white.

  Luka shakes his head. “I’d almost forgotten about those.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “What are they?” Lilah asks.

  “They’re ceremonial robes for Zappia brides,” Sofia answers. “I had to wear them for two weeks before my wedding day.”

  Lilah screws up her face. “Why?”

  “Purification.”

  “Okay…” Lilah shifts backward and falls into the seat beside me again. “I’m just not gonna think about what that means.”

  She reaches for my hand, her touch smooth and delicate.

  “Any sign of Caleb?” Fox asks.

  Boxcar continues clicking through the cameras, tapping quickly until he suddenly stops and exhales.

  “Yeah,” he says. “No robes, but…”

  “Is that Marilyn?” Fox asks.

  “That’s Marilyn.”

  Lilah scratches at my hand, drawing my attention away from the monitor. Her eyes silently flick toward the back, hinting at a tryst.

  I gawk at her and shake my head before turning back to the screen.

  “There’s Lucy,” Dante says, pointing. There’s a girl in a room just like Dani’s wearing black robes stretched out in a yoga pose. “Doing her morning routine,” he adds with a smile.

  Lilah jabs me again and I exhale, giving in. I nod reluctantly and Lilah slides out of her seat and makes her way toward the washrooms at the front of the plane.

  “Looks like I have access to door locks, too,” Boxcar says, shaking his head in disgust. “Oh, Brickton. You never change.”

  “Let’s start mapping it out,” Dante says, fully-alert now. “We need to know exactly where we are and where we’re going once we’re on the inside.”

  A phone rings and Luka reaches into his pocket. “Hey, Yuri,” he answers. He pauses, listening hard over the soft rumble of the engines. “Send me the address. I’ll check it out. You—” He gets cut off and he smiles as Sofia moves closer to him. “Yes, brother. I did know about Ma and Markov.”

  Sofia covers her mouth, holding in a laugh as Luka caresses her shoulder.

  “Yes, I’m okay with it and you should be, too. … Yes, I’m serious.”

  I search the cabin for spying eyes but they’re all too locked in on the Lutrova family gossip to notice me rising from my chair. I walk slowly to the front of the plane, peeking back one more time to make sure it’s safe before I slide the washroom door open and step inside.

  I brace myself for the impact of her lips, but Lilah just stands there in the cramped space, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “Do you like Elvis?” she asks.

  I hold in a smile. “What now?”

  “The King,” she repeats. “You a fan?”

  “No opinion one way or the other, I’m afraid.” I squint with suspicion. “Wh—”

  “How about jazz?”

  “You mean like… saxophones and shrieking flutes?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she says.

  “
Not really,” I answer. “I prefer music with more structure.”

  She snorts. “You really are British.”

  “Last I checked.” I lean forward. “What’s this about, love?”

  “What’s what about?”

  “You dragged me into an airplane washroom to talk about Elvis and jazz. I can’t say that’s normal.”

  Lilah hesitates, biting her cheek. “I’m just… making conversation.”

  I study the flush in her cheeks and my jaw drops. “My god.”

  She looks up. “What?”

  “You’re inquiring about my likes and dislikes.”

  Her shoulders bounce. “So?”

  “So… you’re trying to get to know me as a person rather than a chunk of man-meat.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  I smirk. “You like me, Lilah Hart.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “I’m making progress.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  I laugh. “It’s all right. I won’t tell anyone you’ve gone soft.”

  “I have not—” She shuts her mouth and glowers.

  I reach out to her, resting my hands on her shoulders. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, love. I like you, too. A good deal more than I enjoy Elvis… or jazz… or the occasional butt stuff.”

  Anger fills her eyes as she looks through the wall. “That little shit,” she spits.

  I laugh as I glide my hands behind her and pull her against me. “I would love to go on a romantic getaway, Lilah. I’ll go anywhere in the world with you.”

  “You will?”

  I answer with a kiss, tilting her chin up to take her. “Damn right, I will,” I mutter, parting my lips.

  She kisses me back, pushing up onto the tips of her toes.

  “And for the record…” I say, grinning. “My favorite color is red.”

  “Ooo,” she says, playfully moaning. “Tell me more.”

  “I don’t actually like Rocky Road ice cream.”

  She gasps. “Didn’t seem to have an issue with it the other night.”

  “Oh, I’ll lick anything off you, love.”

  I attack her neck with kisses, and she laughs harder.

  A fist slams twice against the door.

  “Lilah.”

  I cringe at Dante’s voice.

  “Whoops,” she says.

  I drop my hands to my sides and turn around, instantly sliding the door open on his stiff face. “It’s not what you think, mate,” I say. “We were talking about jazz.”

  Dante brushes it off. “Come on, we gotta memorize this map,” he says as he walks away toward the back of the plane again.

  Lilah shifts forward, squeezing out of the washroom ahead of me. As she passes, I feel her hand graze my bulge, giving it a firm squeeze before she follows him.

  I chuckle. I suppose I am still a chunk of meat.

  But I am making progress.

  Chapter 16

  Luka

  Antony Zappia hasn’t been seen in weeks.

  No public appearances. No lunch trips to one of Enzo’s many front restaurants. Even his famous casino lies dormant and cold.

  After my father was killed, I worked with Stefan Petrovin to keep an eye on the Zappia family. I wanted to make sure Antony was staying out of contact with Gio and, as far as we knew, he had honored our new truce.

  Until now. The footage of Gio’s putrid smile lounging around the Zappia estate more than confirms these suspicions.

  But where is Antony?

  The only clue is his wife, Beatrix.

  Stefan’s eyes in the city have long tracked her from place-to-place. She leaves the estate twice a week for various errands and grocery shopping and she rarely strays from the habitual paths she takes. Then, a few weeks ago, she added another stop to her errands around the same time Antony disappeared: an old apartment building downtown.

  I read the message from Yuri on my phone, confirming the address before walking inside. The apartment sits on the first floor, the last door after a long line of scratches and carpet stains.

  I knock twice.

  “Come in.”

  The voice is faint but familiar. I push the door open and walk inside, sensing little-to-no movement throughout the whole place. The television is on, playing a cop drama at a timid volume and flashing a dim light throughout the dark space.

  I eye the back of his head from behind the large recliner sitting in the center of the room. He reaches an old hand toward the drinking glass on the table beside him as I take a few steps forward to confirm it’s him.

  “Hello, Antony,” I say.

  He glances up at me and laughs. “I knew it’d be you someday,” he says, his words slurring. “Welcome, Lutrova. How do you like the new digs?”

  I look around the dismal room. “It suits you,” I say.

  He chuckles into his glass before emptying it down his throat. “I suppose it does.”

  Antony sits forward, struggling to gain momentum before hoisting himself out of the chair. I study him as he walks, feeling a pang of sympathy for the old man. Is this what became of the great Antony Zappia? An old, frail shadow of what he once was? The pillar of strength, now a poster boy for weakness.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  Antony wanders to the drink cart in the corner. He grabs a whiskey bottle off the back and twists the cap off. “Gio,” he answers. “Gio happened.”

  “Is that why you’re here?”

  He nods and shuffles back to his chair. “I lost Marty,” he mutters. “Enzo went missing.” He plops down, spilling a bit of whiskey onto his pants. “Then, that crazy son-of-a-bitch showed up.”

  “You didn’t invite him?”

  Antony takes a swig from his bottle. “I told him to stay away,” he says. “He wasn’t welcome anymore, not if we wanted to survive, but he just walked in one day talking about how he was going to bring the family back. He had a plan. He had women. He told me everything he wanted to do but I looked into my son’s eyes and I saw a madman staring back at me. He forced me out and my wife… Beatrix sided with him. Stops in every now and then to fill the fridge and leave.”

  I smirk. “What did you expect to happen, Antony? You brainwashed them. Gio speaks Zappia way better than you ever did.”

  He drops his head and takes another drink.

  “He does have a plan,” I say, stepping forward. “He does have women. But I will do everything in my power to keep your family from coming back.”

  “Good.” He breathes harder. “Burn it down, Lutrova. Burn it all down.”

  He leans back and pours another healthy dose of whiskey into his mouth.

  “The girl,” he says. “Sofia.”

  “What about her?”

  “Is she all right?” he asks, turning up to look at me.

  I nod. “Yes, she is.”

  His lips twitch. “She certainly got what she wanted, didn’t she?”

  “She usually does.”

  Antony laughs, cold and dry, before falling into a dead silence again.

  “Kill him.”

  I furrow my brow. “What?”

  “Gio.” He takes another drink and winces. “Kill him—”

  The bottle slips from his hand to the floor. He slinks backward against the chair and his eyes roll until I can see nothing but white.

  “Antony?”

  I step forward and he convulses.

  “Antony!”

  I grab his shoulders, trying to hold him still but the seizure takes him fast. He spits up onto his shirt, his body jerking with the last inch of life he has before he settles and goes limp in my hands.

  I snatch the bottle off the floor and bring it to my nose, instantly detecting the bitter scent along the open rim.

  Cyanide.

  I shake my head. “Coward,” I say.

  I wipe the bottle for fingerprints and set it back down on the floor.

  Chapter 17

  Lilah

  As far as plans go, Plan B is on the s
impler side.

  Fox, Dante, Archer, and I will enter the tunnels via the warehouse on Montrose Beach, just like my brothers and I did when we came here to plug Marty a few weeks ago. Luka and Sofia will wait at the tunnel’s exit in the Zappia casino for the girls. Boxcar will be in our ears the whole time, watching the security and opening doors when needed.

  And, my personal favorite bit: kill anything that moves.

  Simple.

  The green warehouse comes into view. The four of us stay out of sight, easily tapping into our stealth training. Archer’s is a little clunkier than ours but he’s not exactly Snake Eyes trained. I bite my smirking lip anyway. Guy’s adorable.

  I look down the beach, spotting the dark casino about a half-mile away. Soon, it’ll be as ravaged by the elements as this place has become. That’s for the best, to be honest. I can’t imagine the great people of Chicago will miss the Zappias.

  Fox slides open the side door and holds it for the rest of us. We slink inside, sticking to the shadows as Dante leads us to the basement door. I let my hand hover along the banister as we descend the pitch-black stairs. Dante reaches the bottom first and finds the light switch, illuminating the old storage area with a dusty yellow flicker.

  I step forward, zeroing in on the bookshelf planted in front of the false wall. Archer takes the other side and he helps me shove it out of the way. Dante pushes against the wall and it gives, sliding open to reveal a dark tunnel.

  “Okay, this is just really cool,” Fox says.

  I nod in agreement. “After you.”

  He goes first, turning his thick shoulders to avoid the old, decaying shelves lined with bottles. Dante follows and Archer smiles, giving me a ladies first motion with his arm.

  “Hey — who’s down there?!”

  We all spin around, startled by the shouting voice up the stairs.

  “Shit,” Dante mutters.

  If they find us, we’re done. If they’re paid off by the Zappia family, then they’ll alert Gio that we’re slinking around. They might even see our tattoos, which would make us double-fucked in basically every hole.

  I don’t usually like to kill innocent people just doing their jobs, but we don’t have time for this.

 

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