by Rose Harper
However, much to my surprise, they both move to the side and allow him to enter unscathed. Something tells me they see what I did when we first entered his office. Well after we got the pleasantries out of the way about who he was and what his main assignment has been all these years. When they find out about that, they’re going to go apeshit. Ah, I can’t wait.
“The laptop is down this way. The faster you can get on it, the faster I can laugh my ass off when you’re not able to get into it.”
“We shall see, sweetheart,” Valentino says, a note of playfulness entering his voice.
Breaking off from the others, Valentino follows me. We’re not completely out of earshot when I hear Lucio start barreling questions toward Domino about who this man is who’s apparently come out of the shadows to save the day. He’s peppering off questions left and right, and it’s not until we enter the study and close the door that his words are drowned out.
Lifting an arm, I point toward Mateo’s desk. The same desk that holds the one piece of technology that could help us crack this entire shit can wide open. “There it is.”
Without saying a word, he slowly walks toward the desk. I expect him to sit down and get right to typing, but he surprises me when instead, he picks it up and glances over every visible surface. Furrowing my brows, I continue to stare at him in silence, feeling a little left out of the loop the longer he continues to look at the metallic outer coating.
It isn’t until he leans in really close that I find myself leaning in as well. My heart starts picking up its pace in my chest when I watch on bated breath as he delicately lifts a fingernail, scraping against it. I’m about to ask what the fuck he’s doing until I see—to my utter astonishment—the paint give way under the pressure of his nail.
What the fuck? I can’t stop myself even if I wanted to. My feet carry me closer to him, where I bend down just as he is, staring blankly at the bottom of the laptop.
The same bottom that we’ve looked over millions of times.
But it now has a discreet set of numbers etched under the metallic paint.
“That wasn’t there before,” I say.
My eyes meet his briefly, seeing his trademark smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. The longer I stare at him, openmouthed, the wider it gets until he’s full on smiling, showcasing his pearly whites.
“You wouldn’t know, either,” he replies. “The only people who were meant to get into this computer was Vinny, his boss, and … me.”
“You?”
“Sweet cheeks, you may think you know this family, but you don’t. No one does. The only thing we can do is roll with the punches, and if you can be on the right side of a situation when it comes to them, all the better.”
It’s too much of a coincidence that he was too excited about getting into this laptop. It’s also too much of a coincidence that he’s been hiding out as John Stewart all these years, but the moment Dom and I make our way into his office, he sheds that guise and follows us until I lead him here.
Coincidences are nothing but the devil’s way, and I have a feeling I just allowed the fiend to walk through the front door.
“You better start talking. Now!”
Giving me a chilly smile, he proceeds to place the laptop down on the desk and sit in the recently-vacated seat. “If you want to know about me, ask Gavino. But I highly doubt he’ll tell you a thing. Still, if it makes you feel better, have at it.”
I don’t know whether to punch him, kill him, or do exactly as he said and ask Gavino. Nevertheless, I’m officially stooped. Because if he were here for anything malicious, he wouldn’t outright tell me to go talk to the most menacing brother. But then again, he could be playing a trick, hoping I’d go ask him so he can make off with the laptop. I don’t know why, but there’s something about this laptop that leads me to believe there’s information on it—very sensitive information.
“No,” I say, forming a plan. “I want to see you unlock it. If you say only Vinny, his boss, and you can unlock it—then, by all means, do it.”
“Gladly.”
Opening the lid, I watch as he picks it up, inputting the number sequence into the password protector. A lump rises in my throat as anxiety twists my insides. There will be no denying he is who he says he is if he gets into that computer …
“And there you be,” he says with tinkering laughter.
His eyes light up as he stares over the lip of the laptop at me. He’s euphoric that he could prove me wrong, and after spending so much time trying to break into that son of a bitch. We’ve spent many man hours trying to hack our way into that motherboard, seeing if there is something on there we need to figure out who it is that’s terrorizing this family.
And not the people who are hired to. I’m talking about the person who’s hired all of them to do his bidding. That is the motherfucker I’m wanting. Because just as soon as I find out who it is and take him out, all our worries will be over.
Valentino quickly does a double take when his eyes glance down at the screen. The laughter that was there just moments before quickly dies on his face, horror taking up residence within an instant.
“Oh, shit,” he whispers, flicking his eyes up to mine. To be a man so hardened by life, he looks like a scared child right now. His eyes continue to flick between the screen, presumably reading a few lines, before jerking back up to mine. His expression becomes more disheartening. “They pulled the contract.”
“What?” Stepping up to the desk, I wrap my fingers around the edge so hard my knuckles begin turning white.
“Fuck,” he groans, now staring back down at the screen.
“Goddammit! What is it?!” I yell frantically.
The moment his eyes meet mine, I feel everything fall away. There’s so much fear in his depths it feels like I’m strangling to take a breath. “He’s at your old house, in your old room. Whoever the contractor was, they were smart. They don’t want someone else to kill Mateo—they want to. The only thing they sought was to get him right where they wanted. He’s a fucking sitting duck.”
15
MATEO
I crack my knuckles and stretch my arms over my head while coming out of the bathroom. Steam from the shower rolls out of the open door in waves as I make my way to the front room. The worn jeans, wifebeater, and shitkickers I’m wearing isn’t something I’m used to, but it beats the hell out of what I was stuck in. The material of the shirt clings to my body like a second skin.
It’s easier to move in than the suit I usually wear, but that doesn’t negate the fact it’s not professional, either. But it will do just fine for the job I’m about to do. In fact, I’d rather soil these clothes with blood than my multi-thousand-dollar suits.
Before Declan made his departure, he said Camille was barreling her way toward this house. So, any moment she’s going to pull up, and she’s going to have the surprise of her life. I’ll be ready for her, unlike that moment we were supposed to meet the contact next to our warehouse. Unlike her, I’ve spent the last several days thinking of nothing but what I’m going to do to her when I get free. Now that I am, let the games fucking begin.
Stepping into the front room, my eyes fall over different pieces of worn furniture. They look well used, with different spots lighter in color than the others. The tables are littered with beer cans, wine glasses, and pills and drugs as far as the eye can see. There are lines of cocaine on the glass of the coffee table with a rolled-up bill laying haphazardly next to it, coated in the offensive white substance.
Everywhere I look, I see nothing but a mess and utter chaos. Two things I cannot stand. In my house, everything has its own place, and if it’s moved from that place, I go ballistic. I can’t stand chaos, because I need order and organization to run the familia business like I do. If Camille treated my home like this, I would have killed her a long time ago. It’s an absolute fucking pigsty.
Disgusted, I continue roaming my eyes over the interior of the room. It seems vaguely familiar, minus the
trash and drugs strewn everywhere. It feels like I’ve been here before, and when I make my way through the rest of the room, down a thin hallway, I somehow know I’m heading straight for an office. Coming to a stop in front of a cracked door, I press it open. Sure enough, there’s a large oak desk sitting in the middle of the room with two small lamps placed on each side for better lighting. There’s paperwork scattered along the surface, and the chair is pushed away from it like someone was in a hurry to get out of here.
Turning my gaze to the right, I see a fireplace nestled in the corner. The brick and mortar are seemingly placed for perfection, with each individual brick placed just so to give it a clean, sterile vibe.
This place looks too familiar. I had to have been here before and just can’t remember.
I’m making my way up the hallway when I hear tires screech in the driveway. A merciless sneer tugs at my lips as I continue my stride, going no faster or slower. I want her to feel the ire rolling off me—feel it all the way down to her bones that I’m not the man I used to be, and she’s about to find out the hard way.
Declan said to remind everyone in New York what it means to mess with someone like me. Well, they’re going to wish no one ever did, because when this is over, even the devil is going to be scared of his fucking shadow.
And my familia? They’re going to be sorry for not getting me out of this. Instead, allowing someone who’s only an acquaintance to get the job done. The only reason I know Declan is through Vinny because they both deal with each other over the boundaries between our families. He doesn’t step into our turf, and we don’t step into his.
Yet, if he hadn’t this time, I’d still be trying to get loose from those fucking ropes.
Just thinking about the inaction my familia as taken, and not only that—but the fact this contract over my head was placed there by someone in my familia—burns my insides with hate.
To me, familia means everything. I live, breathe, and kill for anyone lucky enough to be close to me. Yet, I was taken and left here to rot—apparently, someone in my familia is responsible.
Well, they’ll all see. I’m not the loving bastard I was before I left. Now, they’ll be lucky if they catch a fissure of the soul I have that hasn’t died. The only person who won’t be tainted is Carina. And that’s because she’s my ride or die bitch. The woman I didn’t see coming but can’t even fathom to live without.
My wife.
The woman who will one day carry my children.
Besides her, the rest of them can fuck themselves. The trust I had in my familia frayed the day I was taken because someone in my inner circle is the one who put that contract out on my head. And if I have to go through all of them to find out who it is, I’ll gladly do it with a smile on my face and my woman by my side.
Upon hearing the front door whine, I leisurely come to the mouth of the hallway. My eyes land on Camille as she stumbles through the opening, cursing the offending piece of wood as she does. Her guard is completely down, not fearing that the beast has been let out of this shackles. Oh, if she only knew.
Leaning against the wall, I cross my arms over my chest. My mind is spinning a thousand miles a minute, wondering what I should do to her first. Because one thing is clear, there will only be one of us stepping away from this, and I’m determined for that to be me.
“Fucking took you long enough,” I bark, causing her to scream and drop the purse by her side.
Within seconds, she turns toward me, hunkered down in a defensive crouch. Her eyes stare daggers at mine, flicking over my body from my head all the way down to my feet, then back again. She’s probably trying to figure out how I got free, but that’s none of her business. The main thing she needs to focus on now is how she’s going to get out of this alive. Because I can assure you, woman or not, she’s going to have a fight on her hands.
“Wha … How are you free?”
“You should be asking why I haven’t killed you yet,” I say, pushing away from the wall. Her eyes flick to the door, then back to me, but I merely shake my head back and forth slowly. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Camille. We both know I couldn’t care less if anyone sees me gutting you like a fucking fish. I give no fucks. You broke me,” I grind out.
“W-Why haven’t you killed me yet?” she asks timidly. Like that will make a difference. There’s not a timid bone in her deceitful little body.
“Because I’m going to play,” I say, lifting my hand and dragging it across the top of the bar located behind the sofa. Getting to the end, my fingers trail over the knife I put there before entering the bathroom. “And I’m going to play until you confess all your dirty little secrets.”
Her eyes widen, a grunt falling from her devious lips. The color drains from her face as she takes a few faltering steps toward me. My brows furrow in confusion, until she drops to the floor with a resounding thud, a knife sticking out of her back. What the fuck? It isn’t until my eyes lift toward the door when I spy movement that all my questions drift away.
Standing there, chest heaving is my warrior girl. My wife.
Her eyes spearing into mine, she drops the other knife in her hand and barrels her way toward me. Am I seeing things? I believe I see fear residing in her gorgeous hazel eyes. The moment she wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me into her body, I allow my defenses to lower. My arms wrap around her, clutching her to me like she’s my lifeline. Her cherry blossom scent surrounds me, easing my heart once more. The need for blood still swirls within me, but her presence is a balm to my soul.
“Baby,” I whisper, pulling her against me tighter.
“I thought I lost you,” she wails, sniffling.
Sniffling? Is she fucking crying right now? Hesitantly, I pull her away from me, seeing precious tears coating her cheeks. Cocking my head to the side, her eyes meet mine—the pain I see there levels me. I’ve never seen this type of emotion playing across her face before, and it unmans me to see it now.
“No, baby … shh, you’ll never lose me,” I coo, wiping the tears from her eyes. “The devil himself couldn’t tear me away from you.”
Thunderous footsteps raining on the porch cause my eyes to leave hers, seeing all my brothers standing on the porch. Gavino’s eyes meet mine, and I see fire as if it’s a living breathing entity inside his irises. Giovanni looks like he’s seen a ghost, but a smile still spreads across his face. Lucio, much like Gavino, looks like he’s about to commit murder.
Dom … “Are you fucking crying?”
“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” he says, taking a shuddering breath.
When my gaze lands on the new person standing just behind them, everything stops. My hackles rise, almost to the point of becoming an impenetrable wall. “Who the fuck is he?”
Stepping past my brothers, disbelief overcomes me when they merely step aside and let him pass. He’s not that tall, but he’s stocky. And very fucking familiar. “The name’s Valentino Bianchi, and it’s good to see you in one piece, boy.”
A cough sounds from beside us as Camille struggles on the floor by our feet. A growl reverberates inside Carina’s chest, before she bends down, tunneling her hands through Camille’s hair. Hoisting her up off the floor, a painful cry leaves Camille’s lips as Carina digs the knife in deeper.
“You honestly think you’re going to get away after what you did?!” Carina yells. “Your stupidity nearly took the man I love away from me!”
My mouth threatens to fall open. My entire world tilts on its axis, and the blood in my veins turns to fire. She didn’t … Did she just say …?
“Repeat that?” I ask, stepping closer.
Her eyes meet mine. She doesn’t even have to repeat anything; I can clearly see it shining through her glassy eyes.
Carina loves me. Me. A man who does not deserve an ounce of her love, and she chooses me. Just knowing that, and knowing what Camille almost made me lose, kicks me in the gut. It causes my anger to rush forth to the surface, and a deadly haze spreads over my vision.
My eyes flick down to Camille’s, seeing hers barely open and pain-filled. “You’re dead.”
Carina tightens her fist in Camille’s hair, her eyes meeting mine as a peaceful smile breaks out across her face. It feels like an eternity since I’ve seen her, and even longer since I’ve felt her body against mine. If I wasn’t certain before, I am now. Carina is the woman God made for me, and the one I’d gladly travel into the fiery pits of hell for all eternity if she’s the one by my side.
“You can’t kill me,” Camille says hurriedly as I make my way toward her.
“Give me one reason,” I say, wrapping my fingers around her dainty throat. Just a little pressure and I can snap her neck like a twig.
“Don’t you want to know about your father?” she asks, scrambling for more time.
What the fuck does she think this is going to prove? I’m already second-guessing every person in my familia because she told me it was someone close to home who hired the hit on me. Does she really think anything she has to say is going to make it better? Allow me the ability to spare her life, when she was doing everything in hers to make me beg? Bullshit.
“You don’t have to tell me anything. I already know. He’s the one who took out a contract on my mother. I was already working on that when you showed your ass,” I thunder, tightening my grip.
The air stills around us. The only thing I can see in my vision is the love of my life holding this bitch who about destroyed everything. The one who made me sit in my own waste for days on end. The woman who tried to pump my head full of images of Carina lying there broken, bloody, and dead from Liam and Jake’s handywork.
I don’t give a fuck what she has to say. This ends now! No more running. No more unnecessary time focusing on matters of unimportance.
I want to live. Free. With my wife.
I want to figure out why my father contracted my mother’s demise. Figure out why I was targeted when I hadn’t even fucking done anything.