The Punishment: The Downing Family Book 3

by Wild, Cassie

  Standing just outside the elevator, I tightened my hand on the phone. Daria.

  Anger cut into me as I thought of the consternation I’d seen on the face of the new guy, Roger. He must have thought I was still home when he let the guys in. When he saw that I wasn’t, he freaked out. I clamped down on the rage that tried to break free. “Once the police get here, send them up,” I said.

  “Yes, sir. If you’ll come back down to the lobby—”

  “I’m not coming down to the lobby,” I said shortly. “I’ve got a friend staying with me. She could be in trouble.”

  I cut him off mid-sentence by disconnecting the call.

  As I hurried down the hall, I opened my app for the security system. My condo was wired to the gills, with both sound and audio, although I could take the system offline with just a couple of numbers.

  The video surveillance feed came into focus after a few seconds that felt like minutes.

  My mouth went dry as I saw what was going on inside my place.

  Shoving the phone into my pocket, I crept to the door and paused there, resting my ear against the sturdy oak. I should have known it was pointless. Since my father owned the place, I’d felt free to make some modifications to the condo once I moved in—including installing soundproofing throughout the interior and buying a very solid door.

  Although I could just faintly make out the low murmur of voices, I couldn’t understand what was being said or who was talking.

  Once more, I pulled my phone out and checked the video feeds, switching from the main camera that covered the living room to the smaller one that allowed a view of the front door and foyer. The area was hidden from the main living area by a small wall.

  I didn’t see anybody pop up on that particular feed.

  Switching back to the main camera, I stared at it hard. Four men, including Marcos. One held her pinned in place in front of him, and although I couldn’t see his face entirely, I knew the man facing Daria was Marcos.

  And he held a gun in his hand.

  I couldn’t wait for the cops.

  The condo was outfitted with all the newest technology, including a lock that could be opened with either a key or an app on my smartphone. I didn’t want to risk the jingling of the keys, so I opened the app.

  When I saw that the lock had already been opened, I wanted to punch something or someone.

  Daria must have opened the door and disengaged the system. Otherwise, the security people on staff here at the office would have been notified, and they would have reached out to me. A simple break-in would have triggered the system, and I knew it was top of the line.

  Still, with the door already unlocked, that was one less obstacle between me and the woman I loved.

  Now to get inside and take care of the other four.

  I eased the door open, grateful the maintenance team here stayed on top of things like oiling squeaky hinges. There was just the faintest whisper of sound as I slipped inside, eyeing the dangling chain that had been broken away from the frame. I was relieved to know that Daria hadn’t let someone in so willingly.

  Pressing my back to the small wall dividing the entry from the rest of the condo, I heard Daria talking, and I ground my teeth, forcing myself not to move.

  “Really?” She tried to sugarcoat the scorn in her voice with a snarky, shaky laugh. “How are you going to make it look like the INS grabbed me if you shoot me here in Brooks’ apartment? How is that going to fly?”

  “Boss.”

  I didn’t recognize the voice and knew it had to belong to one of Marcos’ boys.

  “Marcos, you know we can’t do her here. There are cameras all over the fuckin’ lobby. If we do her here, there’s a chance we could get caught.”

  That voice, also unfamiliar, was far too close. It had to be the thug standing nearest the door.

  “We wouldn’t want that now, would we…boss?” Daria said. I wanted to bang my head against something, wanted to yell for her to be quiet.

  In the next second, I heard a sound that pretty much destroyed my control. He’d just slapped her. She made a soft, pained cry while my vision went red.

  I eased closer to the end of the wall, grabbing a small statue that my mother had bought for the table in the little foyer.

  “You’ll be begging to die once I’m done with you, Daria.”

  I’m going to kill you, I thought dispassionately.

  “Domingo, I want you to contact some of our people here in the city. Figure out what you can do to get any security tapes in the building disposed of—quietly.”

  The voice that had been so close to the door spoke again. “Yes, boss.”

  I smirked at the impossibility of that task. They couldn’t dispose of the feed here in my home. It was stored in the cloud, accessible only by me and the men who’d helped me set up the security system—and they were in my father’s employ.

  “You’re cleverer than I gave you credit for, aren’t you, Daria? But you’re not going to push me into acting out of anger.”

  I slipped out from behind the wall. I wasn’t as quiet as I’d hoped to be and some rustle of my clothing or the scuff of my shoe on the hardwood floors alerted one of the men.

  Fortunately, it wasn’t the man standing closest to me, and I took him out with one blow to the back of the head with the heavy piece of metal in my grip.

  As he started to sag, I caught him, bringing his body up as a shield between me and the other thugs.

  Marcos turned at the commotion, and I saw the surprise register in his eyes.

  My focus never left two men: the one with the gun and the one who held Daria. Silently, I slid my hand down until I felt the solid weight of the gun my hostage had hidden under his coat.

  It was a Glock 17. I had one identical to it.

  In one lightning fast move, I dropped that fucker to the floor, raised his weapon and pointed it directly at Marcos’ head. “You want to have your man let her go now, Marcos.”

  “Do I?” He stared at me coldly.

  “You do.” His hand inched upward, and I narrowed my eyes. “One more centimeter and you’ll find yourself with a massive hole through your wrist. Might have trouble jerking off unless you’re a leftie.”

  Two guns cocked and swung my way.

  I didn’t move. “They shoot, I pull this trigger. You’ll die with me.”

  “Then Daria is dead a second later,” Marcos said with a sneer.

  “Won’t bring you back, though, will it?” I asked softly. “And your men will end up with their asses in jail. My security guys will make sure law enforcement and both of our fathers see the security feed.”

  “You think my boys can’t find the security cameras and destroy them?” He smoothed a hand down his sleeve. “Please.”

  “It won’t help to destroy the video cameras when those cameras provide a live feed—one that’s even now being uploaded onto the cloud and stored on several secure servers. Only I can delete the feed, or my men could. And you won’t get my men to help you out.”

  The man next to me shifted uncomfortably. “Boss?”

  “Tell me something,” I said. “Does your dad know all the things you’ve been doing under his nose? Like the girls who are dancing for you? And I mean girls literally. Is he okay with using jailbait in his clubs or did you bother to ask him?”

  I saw a flicker in his eyes, but his voice was smooth when he replied, “My father cares about results. That’s what I give him.”

  “You and Nadia, right?” The weight of the gun was already tiring my arm. Nobody could hold a gun in this position forever without muscle fatigue setting in, and while still in recovery from a gunshot wound it was pure torture. But I didn’t lower the weapon, I just sucked it up. “She is involved in your little sex ring, isn’t she?”

  The corners of his mouth tightened for just a moment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Uh-huh. And when Daria and I talk to the authorities in New York and Miami, there won’t be
any evidence that the two of you were working this together? Think Nadia will stay quiet when there’s a risk she could end up in jail if she doesn’t cooperate?”

  “The bitch will stay quiet,” Marcos snapped. The nerves were still dancing in his eyes.

  “Wonder what your dad will think of you and his mistress fucking around on him.”

  “Uh…Marcos…”

  Marcos turned his eyes to the man standing just a few feet away from me. “Shut the fuck up!”

  “No, please…keep talking,” I said. “Maybe the security will have the police up here by the time you’re done.”

  “You didn’t call the police.”

  “You’re right,” I agreed. “I didn’t. The security team downstairs did. Apparently, the kid you bribed at the front door realized there was a problem when I showed up after he’d let you guys in here. Security called me on the way up.” I smiled coldly. “That was how I knew you were in here. I used the security app on my phone to check the cameras. Smile, Marcos. You’re a fucking star.”

  “I’m outta here, Marcos,” the man closest to me said. “I ain’t fucking with the cops and Basilio.”

  “You’ll fucking stay—”

  His words broke off as the behemoth behind him shoved Daria into his back.

  “You’re fucking with Basilio’s woman?” he said, dismayed. “I’m gone, too, boss. I didn’t sign up for this.”

  Daria, free now, lurched backward. Although Marcos swept back with his hand, trying to catch her, she evaded him.

  “You’re well and truly fucked,” I told him as the two men exited my apartment.

  Behind me, out in the hallway and through the still-open door, I heard a commotion. “Police! Freeze!”

  “Still want to bank on the cops not showing?” I said in a smooth voice. I kept the gun leveled at him, although I knew I was pushing it with cops heading up the hallway. Holding out my free hand, I waited for Daria to circle around Marcos to me. I nudged her behind me, then reached over and put the gun down on the small table.

  Two things happened in that moment.

  Marcos, his face twisted in a panicked grimace, lunged for me.

  And the cops burst into the condo.

  “Police! Freeze!”

  Marcos didn’t seem interested in complying. He shoved a hand inside his jacket.

  Life seemed to slow down to a crawl in those seconds. I could see him pulling out his weapon as he rushed me. The cops were still spilling into the room, but Marcos was only a breath away from me now.

  I reacted on instinct and stepped to the side to avoid his wild grab. At the same time, I struck out with my leg.

  Marcos’ momentum and fury worked against him, and he couldn’t avoid the collision. He tripped over my foot and went crashing down. There was a heavy thud as his head slammed into the table where I’d just placed the gun. Also on the table was a heavy crystal vase of flowers my sister had given me as a housewarming gift. The woman who cleaned for me arranged fresh flowers in it every week, making it a showpiece in the living room.

  As Marcos hit the table and started to go down, the vase wobbled and fell, shattering as it hit the table’s hard surface, drenching the bastard.

  He lay there under a river of water, flowers, their petals raining down on him.

  “Hands up,” the cop nearest me said, while another checked out Marcos, bleeding from shards of broken glass.

  I complied and nodded at Daria to do the same.

  “I live here,” I said calmly. “This man and a couple of his thugs broke in and were threatening to harm my girlfriend.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Daria

  I was still shaking.

  I’d had a few brief moments alone when I ducked into the bathroom before the cops said they needed to get my statement. In those moments, I’d sagged down onto the floor, covering my face with my hands.

  The tears hit hard and fast. In the end, Brooks had to come for me. He helped me up and held me close, stroking my back as he murmured into my ear.

  Most of what he said was just nonsense, calming murmurs of Shhh…and it’s okay.

  Once my heartbeat returned to normal, though, he put his lips to my ear and told me we had to coordinate our statements. “Don’t tell them anything other than what happened here. Keep the focus on Marcos and don’t tell them about the families or anything, okay?”

  It was a good thing he’d reminded me, because once I started talking, I likely would have blurted out my entire story, from beginning to end.

  The female cop sat at the table with me taking down my statement, noticing me rubbing my hands up and down my arms, trying to warm myself. She paused my interrogation and asked, “Would you like some coffee? A blanket?”

  Out in the hall, another cop was taking Brooks’ statement. I wanted more than anything for this whole mess to be over.

  “I just want to get through this,” I said. My teeth chattered, though, and the cop put her pen down.

  Without another word, she rose and went into the brightly lit, open living room and found the blanket I’d been using earlier. She came back and draped it around my shoulders.

  “It’s the adrenaline,” she said softly. “It can make you crash pretty hard. Are you sure you don’t want some coffee? It would help.”

  I shot a look around but couldn’t see Brooks, so I finally nodded. “I’ll make it,” I said. “It will give me something to do.”

  “Of course.” She smiled at me, and the two of us went into the kitchen.

  I clutched the blanket around me like a shawl and started in on the coffee. I decided to make a full pot. I had no idea how much time this could take and figured the cops wouldn’t mind a coffee break at some point.

  Once I figured out Brooks’ high-tech coffee maker, I opened all the cupboard doors until I rounded up cups, sugar, and checked for cream in the fridge. I had to settle for a half-gallon of milk, and under the circumstances, I figured no one would complain.

  The simple task calmed me, and as the scent of coffee filled the air, I looked over at the officer and summoned up a smile. “Just doing something with my hands helps a little,” I told her. “We can continue if you want.”

  “We’ll get some coffee first.” She patted my shoulder, joining me at the counter. “I’m glad you’re not so shaky now.”

  With a wan smile, I said, “The shakes will probably come back.”

  “That’s normal.” Her gaze was sympathetic. “It sounds like you had quite a scare.”

  I nodded, the images of Marcos and his threatening crew keeping me on the verge of tears.

  I took one taste of the steaming hot brew and felt instantly better. Not good, but better. The heat hit my belly and spread through my entire body, chasing away the lingering chill. A few more minutes passed before we returned to the table with our cups.

  “I’m good now,” I said, nodding at the cop.

  She picked up her pad and pen again before asking to start at the beginning, to walk her through what had happened from the moment Marcos had broken inside to the cops arriving on the scene.

  I answered as honestly as I could, although when she asked if I knew why Marcos wanted to grab me, I floundered a bit. “He’s been giving me trouble ever since I went to his sister’s wedding.”

  I gave an abbreviated version of the events, struggling to keep everything in order while at the same time keeping the Downings and the Castellanos, save for Marcos, out of it.

  I didn’t spare a whit of concern for Nadia as I told her that somehow, my former instructor and Marcos seemed to have teamed up in an effort to force women into working for them.

  The cop wrote furiously, pausing now and then to ask more questions, which I answered as best as I could.

  “So, after you left New York yesterday, you came down here with your boyfriend, Brooks Downing.” She reached for her coffee cup as she looked up at me.

  I nodded. My cup was more than half empty now, but the lingering warmth was comforting.


  “I didn’t think Marcos would come here,” I said softly. “I was sure he wouldn’t want to drag Brooks into this.”

  “It would appear Brooks pushed his way into it,” she noted. “Why weren’t the cops notified to begin with?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.” It was a lie, but I couldn’t exactly tell her that by the time I realized how much trouble I was in, Brooks was already working to take care of matters on his own.

  After a few more questions, she flipped her notebook shut. “I’ll have the formal statement drawn up within the next day or so. I’ll need you to come to the station and sign off on it.”

  As she rose from her chair, Brooks came in and walked straight over to me. He crouched in front of me, reaching up to brush my hair back. “Are you okay?”

  “Fantastic,” I said with a shaky smile.

  A faint grin crooked the corner of his mouth, although a shadow passed through his eyes.

  “I bet you are.”

  He straightened and spoke briefly to the officer who’d taken my statement. Exhaustion slammed into me. Dropping my chin into my hand, I closed my eyes while all the noise around me faded away.

  A hand touched my shoulder.

  With a startled yelp, I swung out with my fist.

  Brooks caught my wrist. He’d once more knelt beside the chair, and the unexpected touch of his hand had scared the hell out of me.

  “It’s okay,” he said, drawing my clenched fist to his lips. “It’s just me.”

  Dazed, I looked around.

  “Where are the cops?” I asked.

  “They left about fifteen minutes ago.” He watched me with concern in his eyes. “You fell asleep at the table. I was going to see if you wanted to lie down.”

  I shook my head. “No. I don’t want to be alone right now.”

  “You won’t be.” He stood and held out a hand. “Come on. We can at least settle down on the couch. You’ll be more comfortable.”