X-394

by Dee Garcia

  “Mr. Scarsi, there’s no—” I started to say in a panic, but he lifted a finger, halting the words on the tip of my tongue.

  “If you don’t think you can work that out, then I have a proposition for you.”

  Leaning forward onto my knees, I nodded to ensure him I was listening intently, as a great sense of unease surfaced at the thought of what he was about to offer me.

  “Remove ten people off my list, one for every ten-thousand you owe, and I’ll wipe your slate clean. I’ll even go as far as paying for your mother’s medical bills.”

  What in the…

  He couldn't possibly mean what I thought he meant, right?

  “What do you mean, remove ten people?”

  “Use that smart mind of yours, Mr. Royce. I’m sure you can discern what ‘remove’ entails fairly quickly.”

  The world around me stopped spinning for the briefest moment as the extensity of what he’d suggested began to sink in. He wanted me to kill people. He wanted me to fucking kill people and as compensation for taking someone’s life, he would clear my debt. Was he insane? Deranged? I knew Scarsi Iron did a lot of dirty shit beneath the table, but never did I think there was a hit list of sorts.

  Dropping my head into my hands, I breathed through a sickening wave of nausea that attacked me without mercy, and tried to figure out what I was going to do. While I knew there was no way in hell I could agree to permanently staining my hands in blood, a part of me wondered if checking off a few names would be easier than trying to pay off this debt. It seemed impossible and he’d agreed to pay Mama’s medical bills too, which meant I could throw every penny of this final check into the shop, and finally come up for air.

  My mind was racing a mile per minute, begging to be freed of the constant stress and exhaustion I endured on a daily basis. I couldn't, for the life of me, understand why I was even contemplating this, though. I wasn't a killer. Yeah, I knew how to defend myself and I'd take someone's life without question if they threatened mine or someone I loved, but I couldn't do it like this. For someone else. As a hitman, nonetheless.

  You can do it, the dark little voice in my head encouraged.

  Could I…?

  Could I really?

  No.

  Yes.

  No. This was another person’s life we were talking about, not robbing them of their wallets or shaking them up with a few blows to the head. This was death, ten deaths to be exact, that I would have to carry with me forever. Ten lives I would have taken just to spare myself from a responsibility that was no one's but my own. I got myself into this mess and I needed to get myself out the right way rather than the easy way. Not that I really considered murder to be easy.

  “I-I can't give you an answer right now,” I stammered, dragging my gaze to where he sat. “This is a lot to digest.”

  He regarded me with an impressed smirk on his lips and rubbed his chin. “Very well. Three days then. That's seventy-two hours to make a decision. Nothing more, nothing less. Does that seem fair to you?” he asked.

  “Yes, but I have a question.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “What happens if I don't agree to either option?”

  “Then I expect the full amount, interest included, on my desk within thirty days. And before you say you can't, take a moment to realize, Xander, that I have been very lenient and patient with you. I've given you seventy-five thousand dollars in the span of a year and haven't hounded you once for an installment. That's not usually how I handle business, but as I said, I like you.”

  “I appreciate that, really, I do, but I have one more question.” I couldn't hide the trepidation in my voice. “What happens if I can't get that in thirty days?”

  Vincent straightened his tie and sighed. “Then you'll be somewhere on the very list I've requested your assistance with, and quite frankly, it would be a shame to have to do so.”

  “Why me?” I asked incredulously, shooting up to my feet. “Why do you want my help?”

  “Because I see something in you that burns within me as well. A kindred spirit, if you will.” He sounded amused. “You love your mother in the same ferocious way I do my family, and it’s apparent you'd do anything for her, as I would do for them. But you see, Mr. Royce, as much as I like you, I can't just clear your debt without compensation for the money I’d never see returned. Removing these lying, ungrateful bastards from the queue would be equal compensation, though, and once the last mark has been accounted for, you'd be free to go on your way.”

  Silence ensued once more as I began pacing the front of his desk. This was definitely not how I imagined our meeting would play out.

  “So, Option C is essentially a no-go unless I have a death wish…”

  “Unfortunately yes, but Option A also comes with an expiration warning. Fifty grand in thirty days, or you'll find yourself on that list as well.”

  “Fuck,” I muttered just as the intercom on his desk beeped.

  “Mr. Scarsi,” said the melodic female voice I recognized as the redhead from up front.

  He slid his throne closer to the console and pressed a button. “Xena, darling, go on.”

  “Marcello and Domenico are here, sir.”

  “Ah, yes,” he chuckled. “Let them know I’ll be right out. Mr. Royce and I were just finishing up. Thank you, sweetheart.”

  Ending the connection, he glanced at me once more and pulled open one of the drawers to retrieve his checkbook. Without another word, he proceeded to fill it out as I stood there, shocked, confused, afraid. Because yes, now I was very much afraid—of him, of my future; if I even had one, that is. Upon adding his signature, he stood to his feet and held the check out to me with that same sinister grin plastered on his face.

  “Last check, last extension, Xander. Are we clear?”

  I came forward on shaky legs and took the check into my possession, uttering a, “Yes, sir.”

  He motioned to the door, and I took the silent gesture as my cue to leave. This conversation was over. There was no room for questioning or debating. He'd stated his terms and now I had a decision to make. A decision that could either ruin my life, or take it. Every step away from his desk felt like I had a cement brick attached to each foot, pulling me down further into the quicksand that threatened to swallow me whole.

  “Mr. Royce.” His voice rattled through me to my core as I curled a hand around the steel handle and glanced over my shoulder. When our eyes met from across the room, he went on to tap one finger against the face of his watch.

  “Time is of the essence. Use it wisely.”

  And with that thought in mind, I made my way out of his office, my stomach churning almost painfully as the last half hour of my life replayed in a blur. Time was indeed of the essence. Three days to be exact, and how I was going come to terms with my fate was beyond me. Whether I took the high road or the road I'd never once considered, I was intent on keeping Mama alive, and if that meant risking my life for it all, then so be it.

  “Oh, fuck, Luca! Harder, please!” I whined, as my brother's best friend drove into me from behind, his arm curled around my shoulders.

  “Did you say harder, Petal?” he gritted out, grabbing a fistful of my hair to yank my head back. “You know I don't fuck around.”

  Warm lips crashed into mine in a punishing kiss as he rammed into me harder than before, the head of his cock piercing me deliciously in all the right spots. Every thrust jolted me higher up the mountain and within seconds, my legs began to tremble.

  Luca slapped my ass and I threw my head back against his shoulder, moaning a “Yes!” as a glorious sting spread over my skin.

  “You like that shit, don't you?” He swatted my ass once more.

  “Fuck yes,” I hissed, reveling in the pleasure-filled pain.

  Chuckling darkly, he snaked a hand in between my legs and brought his fingers to my clit, rubbing slow, deft circles that promised to leave me breathless. “What would your brother have to say if he knew how much y
ou loved my cock, Eden? If he knew how rough you let me fuck this tight little pussy?”

  “It's none of his business,” I panted, feeling myself clench around him.

  “Mmm, you’re right. It’s not. Besides, I don’t think he’d want the image of your cunt swallowing my dick whole or how you shatter into pieces when you come, with my name on your lips, like right now. Are you gonna come for me?”

  I nodded, unable to speak, my orgasm moments away from doing the very same thing he’d voiced; shatter me.

  “Now, Petal. Come now,” he growled, increasing the speed of those long digits attacking my swollen bud. I detonated not a second later, locking in his grasp, my eyes clamping shut around a euphoric burst of stars. Luca followed right behind me, thrusting through the waves of my climax until he slammed me down against him and held me in place, jetting spurt after hot spurt of his release deep inside me with a loud hiss. We collapsed onto the bed, his front against my back, both of us panting and sated after three long rounds sans intermission.

  A few minutes ticked away before Luca rolled off me and pulled me closer, his fingers digging into my hip. “I just came hard as hell and I already want you again.”

  I smirked and pushed him off me.

  “Rosy Palm will have to handle that one for you. I've gotta go.”

  “The fuck? Where?” He propped up onto one elbow, blue eyes trained on me as I grabbed my panties off the floor and shimmied them up my legs.

  “I have a ten o'clock. Remember?”

  “You're evil as fuck.”

  “Maybe just a little bit,” I snickered, “but you know this one isn't all me. The boys are coming too.”

  “You're the worst one out of all of them.”

  I scoffed, pulling my black jersey knit tank top over my head. “Am not. Alessio is by far the worst and you know it.”

  “He's organized evil. You're just plain fucking sadistic.”

  “Fuck you, Luca.”

  “I just offered. You told me to handle myself,” he said with a snicker, combing the longer sweaty strands of his dark hair away from his face.

  Saluting him with the finger, I grabbed the rest of my belongings and headed to the door. “I'll call you.”

  “You always say that, yet I'm the one who has to call you,” he yelled as I shut the door behind myself, chuckling at the validity of his words.

  Luca was right, though. It'd always been that way, right from the very start. After he made his move two years ago during the breast cancer charity gala in honor of his grandmother, we hooked up a few more times before I made it clear sex was where I drew the line. There were rules that came with that too, of course. No dates, no sleepovers, no clinginess, no expectations. You know, the fuck buddy basics. Fuck buddy basics he’d willingly agreed to. It was all smooth sailing at first, but his actions as of late proved he’d abandoned ship. He couldn't possibly think something more was a good idea, right? I mean, we’d been fucking around behind Alessio’s back for so long that coming clean would be suicide. There’s no way in hell my brother would ever approve any sort of relationship between us, whether we’d been harboring a secret or not… Still, I found myself answering his calls at least once a week because, well, because he was a good fucking lay.

  Five minutes later, I was on the road, speeding toward the compound, better known as my father’s office. Typically, I would've left Luca’s and gone straight to the next unlucky bastard who was minutes away from taking his final breath, but this target—much to my disappointment—wasn't a one-woman show. If there was even the slightest possibility I might be outnumbered, Daddy forbid me to go without backup, and backup meant my brothers. I loved them dearly, really I did, but I preferred to work alone. The mere thought of having to keep tabs on them while trying to do my job suddenly had me in a foul mood, regardless of the repeat orgasms, thanks to my longtime dirty little secret.

  Slowing the GranTurismo to a roll outside the large wrought-iron gates that secured the premises of Scarsi Iron from the world, I waved to the guard stationed inside the security booth and followed the dimly lit road past rows and rows of decades old rusted cargo pods. During the day, there were glimpses of the harbor in between them, but with the city shrouded by the dark of night, the view was invisible. Non-existent. A gaping black hole of nothing.

  My brothers’ cars were all parked one beside the other when I pulled up to the ten-story, stark white building and parked in my usual spot closest to the front doors. Killing the engine, I shot out of the car and swooped into the lobby past security—who didn't bat an eyelash in my direction—as I made my way to the elevator banks, sparing me from having to engage in any undesired conversation. They might’ve been working the graveyard shift, but they knew I wasn’t the chatty Scarsi.

  Ten floors above, the steel doors of the elevator slid open with a ding, to the pristinely kept lobby of S.I. Deep charcoal gray walls and glossy black marbled floors led straight to an over-sized set of frosted glass doors, with different views of the city hung in metal frames along the way, all of them captured forever in black and white. Random slate-colored leather couches were strategically placed along the wall of windows with small glass tables set beside them, creating the illusion of a waiting room. Everything was simple and clean-lined, but nonetheless, elegant in its own way, and it always made a statement to those who did business with Daddy.

  The sound of my ankle boots clipping and clopping on the floors was the only sound to be heard as I strolled past the vacant reception desk and slipped undetected between the glass doors that opened up to a long narrow hallway. Trailing its length in silence, I could hear three deep and very familiar voices in hushed conversation coming from the very end, and when I appeared at the threshold, their nearly identical chocolate brown eyes snapped up to hone in on my form.

  “Little sister.” Alessio greeted me first in his booming voice.

  I trailed a red polished finger along the row of cubicles and rounded the corner with a smile. “Brother.”

  “Where were you?” he questioned, crossing his arms much like our father.

  I rolled my eyes. “I don't see how that's any of your business, but I was with a friend.”

  Gio, the youngest of the three, choked back a laugh, earning him a lethal glare in warning as I dropped into the seat beside him.

  “What?” He grinned knowingly.

  “You're lucky I love you.”

  Draping an arm behind my chair, he leaned over to kiss my cheek. “You wouldn't dare.”

  “Just because we’re related doesn't mean I won't gouge your eyes out in your sleep.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, li’l sis.”

  “Can we focus please?” Matteo barked across from me. “I have shit to do.”

  “By shit, you mean finding a warm body to intoxicate and wet your dick with tonight?” I snapped.

  Of all my brothers, Matteo was the most promiscuous. One night stands were all he allowed in his life, and I loathed it. I didn't want him to be that guy; the guy who buttered you up, bought you a few drinks, fucked you crazy, and then left before sunrise without so much as a goodbye.

  His lip curled in a snarl. “Shut up, Eden.”

  “Stop fucking around and I will.”

  “Both of you, enough.” Alessio’s tone was no-nonsense. He threw a manila folder onto the desk between us and stood tall, waiting for our full, undivided attention.

  “What’s this?” Gio asked, reaching for the file.

  “It’s a blueprint of LeRoux’s estate. Black marks are security, red marks are cameras.”

  “How did you get that?” Matteo questioned curiously.

  Alessio smirked, lifting his chin. “I have my ways.”

  I glanced over Gio’s shoulder at the layout of Gaspard LeRoux’s home in his hands. The wealthy Frenchman had arranged a costly trade with my father and never came through with his end of the deal. Daddy had kept him at the bottom of the list for quite some time, in hopes he’d eventually pay his dues
, but Frenchie’s excuses seemed to be a series of perpetual empty promises.

  “He's upped security, huh,” I said, noting all the black x’s strewn out before me.

  Alessio hummed. “Indeed. Richie, Miguel, and Frank paid him a little visit last week. I guess he took the hint.”

  “He's got the money. Why doesn't he just pay up instead of bulking up?” Gio asked.

  “That's the million-dollar question, brother,” Alessio snarled. “Father’s patience has reached its end though, rightfully so, and now Gaspard is going to pay his dues, six feet under.”

  “Okay, so we can go about this two ways,” I said, reclining into my seat. “Either we find a way to execute this from the outside, meaning I can set up on a building in close range and wait him out or we can put down the cavalry just beyond the gates, Gio can disarm the cameras, and I'll handle the rest on the inside.”

  Three sets of eyes darted to me in an instant, pinning me in place.

  “Absolutely not, sister. LeRoux’s property is shielded by thick greenery, which means we have to go in, and there's no way you're going in there alone. That's suicide,” Alessio said, and the boys quickly agreed with silent nods.

  I sighed, frustrated. “You three better keep up then, I swear. I can't babysit you and try to get past his new attack dogs.”

  “You forget we were doing this long before Daddy allowed you to hold a knife. We can hold our own, Eden,” Matteo gritted out.

  “And aside from Alessio, who was the first allowed to go out solo?” I countered, crossing my arms.

  Silence, minus Gio, who couldn't hold back a howl beside me.

  Matteo and I stared each other down across the table but from the corner of my eye I caught Alessio sinking into the chair positioned at the head of the desk, prompting our attention to shift.

  He motioned between us, his brows knit together in an unamused expression, an expression my father often gave us when he was not pleased. “When you two are done bickering, we’ll proceed.”