Chapter 52
Present
The doorman at Zach’s building greeted me with a nod, but that didn’t stop the panic boiling beneath my skin. I stalked toward the private elevator in the lobby, the one I’d used a dozen times to get to Zach’s penthouse without question. Tonight, though, the elevator panel blinked red, denying me access.
My jaw tightened. I didn’t need to check the tracker in Natalia’s necklace to know she was here. Where else would she be when Maria was her closest friend?
Zach appeared a minute later, stepping out of the public elevator and crossing the lobby toward me. His expression was wary, almost apologetic.
“Trevor,” He started, one hand in his pocket, the other scratching the back of his neck. He exhaled through his nose, meeting my gaze evenly. “I can’t let you up.”
I scoffed, looking away as I rubbed a hand over my jaw. “That’s funny.”
“It’s not my call.”
“It’s your elevator,” I snapped.
“And it’s Natalia’s decision,” He countered, voice low but firm.
I took a step closer, lowering my voice but not my intensity. “I need you to have my back, the way I’ve had yours. Or do I need to remind you of all the times I’ve cleaned up your messes?”
Zach’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t back down. “What did you tell me when I wasn’t good with Maria? Give her time and space. That’s what I’m asking you to do now.”
The public elevator chimed, and the doors slid open again. This time, Maria stepped out, her expression a mix of worry and determination. She slipped an arm around Zach’s arm, leaning into him like she belonged there.
“She’s just upset, Trevor,” She said softly. “Let me talk to her. I’ll explain everything.”
I stared at her, then at Zach, my frustration simmering beneath the surface. “You think you can fix this for me?”
“ Yes ,” Maria pressed. “Natalia trusts me. She just needs to hear it from someone who isn’t you right now.”
A sardonic laugh escaped me, as I glanced away. “ Someone who isn’t me .”
Zach’s hand moved to Maria’s back, a silent vow of loyalty. “She’ll listen to Maria. Give it a day.”
I clenched my jaw, every instinct screaming at me to shove past them and fix things myself.
“Fine,” I bit out, stepping back. “But I’ll be here in the morning.”
Maria nodded again, and Zach gave me an apologetic look. They left, taking the public elevator, and I stood there in the quiet lobby, the weight of this stalemate pressing on me.
I hated relying on anyone else.
But tonight, I had no choice.
I took their advice.
I gave Natalia space.
I didn’t barge in like an asshole.
It turned out to be the biggest mistake of my life.
The night had been unrelenting, a storm of thoughts crashing against the walls of my mind, each more vicious than the last. Sleep wasn’t an option; it hadn’t been for hours. I’d spent the night pacing my SoHo apartment, my sanctuary feeling more like a cage than a home.
I was a minimalist. I enjoyed having a simple space, in comparison to my friends. Though I’d switched out my old condo for a larger apartment when I moved back from Tokyo earlier in the year.
Natalia haunted me – her sweet voice, her soft smile, the way she looked at me with so much love and trust before it all south. Before I fucked everything up again .
Her absence was a constant weight in my chest, and no amount of whiskey or distraction could make it leave.
When the first rays of morning sun stretched across the city, my spirits lifted knowing I was going to return to Zach’s building in a few hours.
I wandered into the silent kitchen, my hand hovering over the coffee maker before I finally pressed the button to start it. As the aroma of fresh coffee filled the air, I leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the blank wall.
My phone buzzed on the counter, the sharp vibration cutting through the quiet. I grabbed it immediately, a stupid part of me thinking it was my love.
An unknown number.
My fingers tightened around the sleek device as I looked at the screen. I swiped the message open.
Unknown: The Family wants Natalia and Gìovanni to marry. They’re meeting at The DeMone to sort out the details.
The words seared into my brain, and I froze, rereading them twice.
Three times, as if they might change.
My grip on the phone turned ironclad, my jaw tightening until it ached.
My first thought was disbelief. This had to be some kind of sick joke. An elaborate ploy to get under my skin. But the longer I stared at the message, the angrier I became.
The idea of her with him made my blood boil.
The thought of his hands on her…
His name tied to hers…
His ring on her finger…
The edges of my vision went dark.
I set the phone down, my breathing heavy with fury. For a moment, I didn’t move, my hands gripping the counter as I tried to think clearly. But I couldn’t. I pushed off the counter, grabbed my keys and jacket, and headed for the door.
I didn’t care if it was a trap or a lie. The thought of her standing next to Gìovanni, signing papers that would chain her to him – to the Cosa Nostra – was enough to set me in motion.
Gìovanni DeMone was a dead man.