Princess: Ridgeview Prep Book 2

by Quinn, Londyn

  “You need to hurry. He doesn’t have long.”

  The caller hangs up and Gaia crumbles to the floor.

  My heart can’t take this. It is breaking more and more with every passing second.

  Was this all of my fault?

  Did I put Xander in danger just by wanting to be with him?

  Was this why he kept telling me that we couldn’t be together?

  Did he know that something like this was going to happen?

  “Oh my God! That’s where the event is being held. It's already started!” I yell. “My car is running out front. Let’s go!” Shoving the keys into Phoenix's hand, I stare at him. “He needs us.”

  “We need to get you cleaned up first,” Marco breathes out. “Gaia?”

  Xander’s mother pulls herself up and grabs my hand. “Come with me.”

  In the small powder room off the foyer of their home, Gaia gets alcohol wipes and a travel makeup case out of the cupboard.

  “Are you all right?” I ask as she starts to wash the blood off of the side of my face.

  “I trust my boys to bring Xander home in one piece,” she states, almost robotically. The tears welling up in her eyes tell a different story.

  After Gaia finishes cleaning up my wounds and covering up the evidence with makeup, she wraps her arms around me. “Thank you for loving my son.” Her words catch in the back of her throat.

  Gripping her tightly to me, I whisper, “I always have and always will.”

  “Time to get a move on!” Jase calls through the door.

  Without another word, Gaia and I exit the bathroom and join the rest of the group.

  “Ready?” Mr. Iazetti asks, and I nod. “Let’s fucking go, then.”

  The four of us rush for the Tesla that is purring next to the curb.

  Right as I am about to get into the backseat, Gaia calls over to all of us. “Please bring my baby home!”

  Jase shoves me into the car before turning to his mother. “Don’t worry. We got this.”

  Chapter 24

  Xander

  “Xander.”

  I hear my name, muffled by the throbbing pain assaulting my temple and mumble something unintelligible in response.

  “Xander!”

  Again, the soft hum vibrates against my ear and my eyes flutter, opening a crack and squeezing shut just as fast.

  Too fucking bright.

  I try again, squinting in the bright light.

  Where in the hell are we?

  Dark wood paneling covers the walls, thick area rugs cover the polished hardwood floors. Tall, floor-to-ceiling windows line one side of the expansive space and bookshelves with a lot of ancient-looking bindings cover the opposite wall.

  A fucking library?

  High-vaulted ceiling, ornate chandeliers, paintings that look pretty damn expensive.

  I am completely out of my element right now, and much as I want to tear Rossi apart limb by limb, I’d sure like to know where the hell he dumped me.

  “Who’s there?” I grunt, wincing as I shift in the chair. I try to pull myself up straight but my wrists are tied together. Tight. Zip ties.

  Where the hell is my box cutter when I really need it?

  “It’s Lorenzo,” a meek voice mutters. My spine stiffens. Bastard.

  “You fucking asshole!” I whisper-shout. “Do you realize what you did? How the hell could you get into bed with Moretti? Did you really think he was gonna let you get away with playing both sides?”

  Lorenzo’s voice cracks. “It was bad, I know. But it’s like I told you guys. My hands were tied. He was gonna kill me and my family if I didn’t help him! And I tried to get your father’s help, begged him to get someone to keep an eye on things down at the club to help with security, but he didn’t do shit!”

  “Maybe it’s because he knew you were a goddamn weak link and didn’t want to let Moretti in any closer!”

  “Yeah, well, look at us now,” Lorenzo sputters. “We’re both fucked!”

  “Speak for yourself,” I mutter, trying to pull my wrists apart very unsuccessfully. I’m going to enjoy killing whoever slapped these things on my wrists. “Sonofabitch!” I grumble. “Where the hell are we, anyway? And who brought you here?”

  “I’m not sure where we are, but Gio Rossi brought me here. Something big is going down.” Lorenzo begins to weep again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

  “Forget it,” I say. “It’s over. Now we need to get the hell out of here!”

  “No, you don’t understand,” he cries out. “Rossi made me call Phoenix. Gave him an address. Told him if he wanted a shot at Moretti, he needed to show up. I think it’s the address where we are right now. They want your family here, Xander. I don’t know what’s going on, but they threatened to slit my throat if I didn’t make the call to get them here.”

  I grit my teeth. “Are you fucking serious? You baited my whole family into coming down here?”

  “I had no choice!”

  “Lorenzo,” I hiss. “You’d better hope that you’re already dead by the time I break free of these ties because if you’re not, I’m going to fucking ice you myself!”

  My heart thumps with increasing force and I wish to hell I could channel my inner Hulk and break free of these damn plastic ties. I squeeze my eyes shut, kicking around to throw the chair off-balance. If I can just break the chair, then I can run.

  Somewhere.

  Anywhere.

  I shake myself left and right, but the damn thing doesn’t even so much as squeak.

  Yeah, what a joke. This chair is made of some intricately carved ornate and overpriced wood that I could probably hurl at the side of a cement building without breaking. I take a few deep breaths as I steady myself.

  Okay, think!

  Moretti wants my family here.

  Why?

  Is he going to do a mass killing, execution-style?

  “What the hell does Charlotte have to do with this?” I mutter.

  Blaine, Carl. I get it. They’re under Moretti’s sick spell and they smell money. Lots and lots of money. Christ only knows what he’s promised them.

  But why Charlotte?

  I replay the conversation I had with Charles the other day…his concern, his vulnerability, his need to keep his family safe.

  Charles wanted me to keep Charlotte safe, to protect her.

  An icy chill slides down my spine.

  Charles knew about Blaine and Carl. He had to have! That’s why he tagged me in. He knew they were closing in on him and that they posed a risk to his daughter.

  I swallow a gasp. Fuck, where is she now? What the hell did Rossi do with her?

  What if they’re using her as leverage to get to Charles?

  The realization hits me like a brick to the chest.

  “They have Charlotte,” I say. “They’re going to use her to get to Charles,” I mutter. He’s the one missing piece in this whole shit pie, the only one who could be standing in the way of Moretti taking over the real estate in the surrounding area.

  This all has to do with the announcement he’s going to make tonight.

  Those bastards wanted to stop it!

  Jesus, do they even know what happened tonight? That their daughter has been taken? Or worse?

  “Lorenzo,” I hiss. “Where are the Hawthornes? They’re supposed to be hosting some gala tonight. I need to find them! Their daughter’s life depends on it!”

  “I’d think you’d be more concerned about your own life, Iazetti,” Rossi’s low, raspy voice makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up in anticipation of a complete shit storm.

  “Where is Charlotte Hawthorne?” I growl, still struggling in vain against the chair holding me captive.

  “You still haven’t figured out your purpose in this whole thing, have you?” Rossi’s lips curl into a sinister grin. “I’m excited for you to put the pieces together, but I’ve got to tell you, it’s getting a little exhausting, watching the wheels turn and you get nowhere
.”

  “Fuck you!” I shout. “Tell me where she is!”

  He inches closer, his dark eyes like black marbles in his skull.

  The man is soulless. Empty. Evil.

  That’s what his menacing gaze tells me, and it’s everything I need to know.

  Oh yeah, there’s one other thing that makes my skin crawl and my gut twist.

  I am absolutely powerless to do a damn thing to stop whatever these bastards have planned against my family and the Hawthornes.

  “I’d tell you to think about it, but brain power is clearly not one of your strengths.” He circles my chair before turning to look at Lorenzo.

  “You did what we asked,” Rossi says to him. “You made the call. You started the party.”

  “S-so I can go, right?” Lorenzo sputters, still weeping.

  Pussy.

  “Yes,” Rossi says with a bright smile. He pulls out a knife and slices through the zip ties holding Lorenzo’s wrists together and Lorenzo jumps out of the chair, a flicker of guilt in his gaze as it lands on me. He flexes his wrists, looking in all directions like a rat trying to find the right exit from his death trap maze. He backs away toward a set of sliding glass doors with an apologetic expression on his face. “I’m sorry, Xander,” he whispers, fiddling with the doorknob.

  Rossi nods at him. “Thank you for your help, Lorenzo. You can be with your family now.” He holds out a hand, clutching a Beretta, and pulls the trigger before looking back at me with a wink. “In death.”

  The silencer on the tip of the gun prevents the loud crack from reverberating between the walls, but Lorenzo’s body makes a loud thump as it crumbles to the carpet in a heap. A large, dark red stain spreads beneath him and Rossi frowns. “Dammit. The cleaners won’t be happy about that.”

  My jaw drops as I stare at Lorenzo’s stricken face the second he realized he wasn’t going anywhere, that when he agreed to work with Moretti, he sold his soul and the souls of everyone he loves to the Devil.

  Stupid ass didn’t realize the Devil always comes back to collect.

  And he doesn’t negotiate on price.

  Chapter 25

  Charlotte

  I could barely breathe the entire way to the library. It took us only minutes with Marco Iazetti driving, but it felt like years.

  In unison, we shoot out of the car as guests dressed to the nines flutter around arriving fashionably late for the event of the year.

  “I need to find my mom,” I call over my shoulder, all three of the Iazetti men hot on my heels.

  Whipping my head back around, I crash right into a guy standing against an ivory pillar talking to a girl who looks to be a few years younger than me, “S-sorry—,” as our eyes lock together, my blood runs cold. “Blaine,” I muttered.

  “Charlotte, about time you joined the festivities,” he chuckled, turning away from the chick and putting his hand on my bare shoulder.

  I don’t even have time to shrug off his advances. Jase instantly tackles Blaine to the ground, wrapping his arm around Blaine’s neck like a ninja spider monkey on cocaine.

  “Where the hell is my brother?” Jase growls while Blaine's face starts to turn a deep shade of purple.

  Choking, Blaine spits out, “Fuck you!”

  “Wrong answer,” Mr. Iazetti bellows, grabbing Blaine by the lapels, yanking him out of Jase’s grasp, and pulling him to his feet.

  Phoenix stands a few steps back, a knife just barely peeking out of his sleeve.

  “You see, kid, you messed with the wrong family. Now, I will ask you this only once, and if I don’t like what comes out of your mouth, my oldest over here is going to slice you up so badly that your mother won’t even be able to identify your body. Do I make myself clear?”

  Blaine’s eyes were the size of the moon as he nods at Mr. Iazetti.

  “Good. Now, where is Xander? Where did they take my son?” His voice is low and level as his knuckles turn white.

  “I don’t know,” Blaine tries to puff his chest out a little.

  Mr. Iazetti pulls Blaine forward a bit, then slams the back of his head hard against the pillar. The crackling sound of his skull colliding with the stone sends chills down my arms as I stand frozen in place. I have no idea what I should be doing except standing by casually so as not to draw attention to the interrogation.

  “I am not in the mood for games, boy. And I sure do not have the fucking time for this.” Marco’s teeth clench, his nose almost touching Blaine’s.

  “Downstairs,” Blaine blubbers. “They have him in the basement somewhere. That’s all I know.”

  Fucking pussy.

  I really hope he just shit himself.

  It would be a small consolation prize for all of the shit that Blaine has put me and Xander through over the last few weeks. And I could really use some kind of silver lining in all of this horror.

  “Take care of this piece of shit,” Marco orders Jase.

  A sinister smile spreads wild on Jase’s face as he hooks his arm around Blaine’s neck again. “Gladly.”

  Phoenix follows Jase as he wrestles Blaine around the corner of the building. I rush after them, watching as they knock Blaine out and flex cuff his wrists and ankles together. As Blaine lay motionless, hidden in thick bushes, a weird sense of satisfaction washes over me.

  That’s what you fucking get, you damn asshole.

  Mr. Iazetti is waiting for us off to the side of the entrance.

  “Do any of you know where the basement is?” he asks.

  “I think there is a staircase in the back of the ballroom. I was here for a party a few years ago. I kept seeing security guards going up and down some stairs back there,” I answer.

  “Lead the way,” Phoenix holds his hand out as I grab the skirt of my dress, making a beeline for the staircase.

  Right as we’re about to walk through the entrance, I hear someone call out Phoenix’s name.

  Asher and Chase trot over to us, completely out of breath.

  “What do you guys want?” Phoenix barks at the brothers. The impatience that rolls over all four of our faces is palpable as the two goons huff from their little jaunt across the lawn.

  “Is Xander here?” Chase finally speaks, still out of breath. “We need to talk to him. He told us some shit about Blaine and we want to help take down that asshole.”

  “Look, I think it’s cute you wanna play superhero for Xander, but we don’t have time to get you capes,” Jase snarls at them. “If you want to do something for Xander right now, the two of you shit dicks are going to watch Blaine for us. He’s around the corner. Be as creative as you want but keep him quiet and wait for one of us to come get you. Got it?” Jase shoves a boxcutter and a small roll of silver tape into Asher’s hands.

  They both nod before bolting off into the shadows without another word.

  Our group doesn’t miss a beat. Once the minions are off to help us keep the whistleblower in check, we dart into the bustling party.

  It feels like a complete out-of-body experience, almost like I am watching a mob movie unfold right in front of my eyes. Utter disbelief is a total understatement at this point.

  We weave through the throngs of elegant guests, over to the door that leads down into the basement. Quick glances and little remarks from the partygoers creep our way, but I couldn’t care less. My focus was on only one thing. Xander.

  “Charlotte?” My spine instantly straightens as my mother’s voice floats through the cool night air.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I push back my hair and put on the fakest smile I can muster. Not wanting her to get too close to the group, I dash over to her side.

  “Mom, sorry I am so late,” I huff, gripping her soft hand.

  “Honey, what happened to you?” she asks as her eyes rake over my disheveled appearance, landing on my bare feet. “Where are your shoes?” Her hand sweeps over my hair and she gasps. “Oh my God! You’re bleeding! Charlotte, what happened?”

  “It’s a really long story.” My e
yes dart left and right and I cover the gash on the side of my head with my hair. “But please, Mom. I can’t explain right now.”

  “Seriously, Charlotte, what in the world is going on?” she hisses, following my gaze and peering at the group near the stairs.

  “I need to find Dad,” I mutter, glancing around the place for his broad shoulders.

  “I haven’t seen him for a while. He’s probably just talking shop with a cigar on the terrace like usual,” she answers, putting her hand on my cheek. “Honey, are you bleeding?”

  “Mom, I am seriously fine. I just need to find Dad. If you see him, tell him I need to talk to him.”

  “Charlotte!” she calls after me, but I ignore her. There is no way that I want to try to go down the rabbit hole of explaining this fucked-up situation to her right now.

  Leaving my mother standing in the middle of the room, I scamper back over to the staircase, the group already halfway down the stairs.

  “Wait,” I grab Jase's hand. It feels so wrong, but he is the closest one to me.

  They all halt, whipping their heads around to look at me.

  “They will have guards down there,” I whisper.

  “Looking for me?” My father’s booming voice echoes in the poorly lit staircase.

  I spin on my heels, not able to mutter a damn word as our eyes meet.

  “Glad you have the whole gang here. I was hoping my little announcement would be able to make it all the way to the top of the Iazetti family. Nice to see you, Marco. It’s been too long.” My father’s eyes narrow onto Mr. Iazetti.

  “I wish I could say this was a pleasure, but this is not a social call,” Marco snarls, taking a few steps up toward my father, shoving past his sons and Xander’s peons.

  “Follow me, I think I know what you’re looking for.” Charles Hawthorne is his cool, collected self as he makes his way down in front of us, heading straight for the basement...the place where, according to the phone call, Xander is being held captive.

  What in the fucking world is going on?

  Chapter 26