Taking Over the Dark (High Stakes Syndicate #2)

Chapter 9

NINE

MARCELLO

Not a fucking word.

Nothing.

We’re hitting hour fifty-nine since we’ve last seen Nash and Ellie.

My Ragazza Dolce.

She feeds my soul, and this soul of mine is to the point of starvation.

? * Sitting at my desk in the warehouse, staring into the operating room, I start scrolling on my computer, looking for some of the footage of Ellie when she was still in her apartment. I land on the night I finally made her come on my tongue.

I slide my ass down in my chair, spreading my legs, and leaning back, scrolling to the time I know so well. My belt comes undone, then my button and zipper quickly follow on my favorite maroon suit pants. Leaving them up for now, I like to wait and see how long I can last before palming my cock.

No one is here with me in the warehouse, which probably isn’t the best idea, but Vin had to run and grab a couple of things for our meeting with the port director in a couple of hours, so I have the volume up as loud as it can go. I lay my head back on the chair, basking in Ellie’s gentle snores through the computer’s speakers.

Fuck I miss her.

I need to know she’s out there and still breathing. We searched for hours where her tracker went black with no luck, yesterday. Either they knew she had the tracker in her arm and covered it, making sure it would lose signal, or… I can’t think of all the other countless things they could’ve done that would’ve caused harm to my Ragazza Dolce.

It’s like my cock is trained when it comes to Ellie sleeping. Rock hard and ready to go when it hears her quiet little snores, knowing she is defenseless; what makes it more of a turn-on… I know her sopping cunt loves it. I finally palm my length, rubbing through my pants, when the door to my office flies open.

That same hand that was rubbing my cock shoots to my chest holster, grabs my gun, flips the safety off, and aims at whoever is dumb enough to be in here without me knowing.

“Honestly, a bullet to the head might solve today’s problems… Actually, no, I wanna see what that thing does.” It’s fucking Zamir, and he’s pointing to my hard cock and ogling it like he doesn’t have one hanging between his legs too.

Rolling my eyes, I question him, “Why are you not at practice?”

He shrugs. “Coach kicked me out.”

“What did you do, Zamir?” As those words leave my lips, I hear my voice chime through the video. I was whispering, saying the depraved shit I usually do when I’m with Ellie.

Zamir drops his voice a few octaves, asking, “More entertaining question is—what are you watching, Big Man?”

I know he’s trying to change the subject and get me to forget about him getting kicked out, and I’ll drop it for now… but I will find out.

With a wicked smile pulling at my lips, I tell him, “The footage from the last time I was in her apartment.”

“Have you found any answers or anything since watching the video?” he asks while walking around to stand behind me.

“I’m not going to find answers here, Zamir… what I’m looking for is pleasure and the thought of my Ragazza Dolce.”

“Coach kicked me out because I was a dickhead to the backup quarterback. He wasn’t making any effort to get passes to me, and his cadence is nowhere near as funny as Nash’s,” he huffs like a pissed-off teenager.

“So you took the anger out on the other teammates because your boyfriend is missing in action?”

“We’re not even dating yet! That’s what makes all of this even worse… I caught these feelings for a goddamn rookie that doesn’t even want anything serious!” I had no clue Nash didn’t want anything serious. That would have never crossed my mind with how the two of them act together, and then add Ellie into the mix…

I’m getting more pissed off by the minute. I grit out, “He better not hurt Ellie in the long run. I’ve been nice enough to let the two of you stick around. Fuck knows I don’t have to be this nice.”

Then he says, “It’s different with Ellie.” And that could mean so many things.

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”

His next question is immediate. “You know why I got kicked out… now it’s your turn to talk. When will you tell Ellie about all of this, Marcello?” He’s waving his hand around the computer, talking about the light stalking I was doing before getting her to stay with me. “I wanna watch when she beats the fuck out of you for doing this shit to her for so long.”

“I wish she already knew… but what if she’s not even mad?” Needing my woman back in my bed and arms, the pang of pain from missing Ellie hits me hard and fast. “I’ll tell her once we get her back and settled in.” I stand and start to fill him in on the plan. “Now get ready and strapped up. We’ve got a meeting with the port director in an hour.”

I’m ready to take this anger out on someone, and that someone is going to be the cheating, spineless port director.

Zamir whispers at my back, “It seems like they would have more security for a man that runs the goddamn airport?”

? * He’s currently at my back while I’m behind Vin’s. My left hand rests on his shoulder, letting him know we’re good back here… well, I am. Zamir’s about to have his shit knocked loose if he doesn’t shut the fuck up. How this man survived being an enforcer for so long, I’ll never know.

Throwing my hand up to silence him, I whisper back a warning, “Now is not the time to be bumpin’ your gums, Zamir.” As I say that, Vin’s hand points forward, telling us we’re clear to move and head into the building.

The whole building is concrete. Conveyor belts fill the room, standing just below the height of the ceiling. Random walls are placed throughout the warehouse to separate the office crews from the government officials from various agencies that sort the packages. Noah stays back at our warehouse to work from his computer station in order to hack into the cameras here and guide us to the director’s office. If we needed the extra man power, he’d be here no questions asked—he may be mean and huge, but he’s a thousand times more helpful to us from behind the computer. We always have our earpieces in so we can keep in contact with him even when our hands aren’t accessible.

It’s usually bustling in here anytime I’ve paid Jack a visit before today. But it’s eerily quiet in here tonight.

Noah’s voice comes through the earpiece. “You’re clear until you get to his door. Two guards are outside his office, but they look like the only people left in the building for some reason.” I can tell Noah’s on edge by the absence of people in this normally bustling environment.

I nod to Zamir, letting him know we’re good to keep moving behind Vin. Right as we start to move toward Jack’s office, I hear Zamir’s silenced gun pop off behind me. I turn to look at him, then to where his sight is directed, and there’s a huge guy, his pistol still clutched in his hand, bleeding out of his headshot wound.

Vin turns around, speaking to Zamir, “Good shot. Way to have Bosses back.” He breathes like he’s thinking before saying his next thought directly to me, “I hope that earned the trust back that he should’ve never lost.”

Completely ignoring Vin’s cut at me, I bark an order through the coms, “Noah, how about a warning the next time?”

“Sorry, Boss. I don’t know where that one came from. There weren’t any alerts on my end of anyone entering the building. They would’ve had to have been hiding somewhere off-camera and hiding in there most of the day.”

“Keep your eyes peeled, Noah. We’re rounding the corner now for the offices.”

“Yes, Boss Daddy.” Vin snickers at that like he always does with Noah’s antics.

I swear to fuck; I’m going to strangle the hacker.

Vin’s hand flies up in a fist, telling us to stop. I haven’t missed how Zamir knows precisely what to do every step of this mission without any run-downs from us. He fits with us seamlessly, but I keep telling myself it’s only because he comes from a family and a life just like this.

A thought continues to bounce around in the back of my head though… Why does he feel the need to be loyal to me? Was he loyal to his family? Or is that why he chose football instead? He could have easily fucked his family over, and that’s why they’re coming for what’s mine now.

Rage building up in me is never good, but especially not when we’re in the middle of trying to figure out where Nash and Ellie are and who’s behind all of this shit. And it’s definitely not going to be good for the port director.

Nash would be devastated if he ever returned to Chicago, but Ellie… it would tear her apart from the inside out, whether she is ready to admit that or not.

Feeling Zamir brush past me in the hallway opening between the two office set-ups, he stands there waiting to get the guards’ attention. Before I can have Vin pull him back behind the wall, Zamir has his free hand up to his mouth, wolf-whistling. Vin rounds the corner, gun drawn, ready to shoot, but two shots ring off from Zamir’s gun first. He didn’t even have his gun up high enough to see down the slide. How he hit those guards with perfect headshots is enough for me to know he can handle himself just fine.

Thank fuck I screwed the silencers on our guns before getting out of the SUV, or Jack’s nosey ass would’ve already been out here asking questions.

“Let’s get in there before anyone else comes out of the woodwork,” Vin says to the both of us, and we follow him to the door of the port director’s office. I am stepping over the two bodies while admiring Zamir’s shots up close. Shaking myself out of my trance, I head straight to the door, kicking it in—putting on this little show happens to be my favorite party trick. I strut in but stop abruptly when I see a tied-up, blindfolded, and gagged port director.

He’s a drooling mess, and I can barely make his words out, but I think he’s saying, “Sir, please.”

I deadpan, “I would love to sit and watch the show because fuck knows this would be entertaining as hell, but I’m a busy man.” His whole body stiffens when he realizes who’s talking to him. “Does your wife tie you up and leave you like this? No, that’s right, it’s not your angel of a wife. It’s one of our wonderful mistresses from Sins, isn’t it, Smith? Actually, now that I think of it… I don’t know any of our Dominatrixes that like to be called ‘sir.’” I add condescendingly, “This isn’t very safe, you know? Anyone could come in here and have their way with you.”

He’s drooling everywhere, but gets out a murmured, “Marcel?—”

“It’s Mr. Barone to you.”

His voice is shaking now. “Mr. Barone… I’m sorry you’re having to see me this way. M-my Dom was on a shopping spree with my credit card, and?—”

I cut him off again. “For being gagged, you sure can get some words out…” We’ll have to fix that. “I’ll be sure to send your wife my favorite divorce lawyer and make sure she gets every penny she deserves out of your spineless ass.” Circling him like a shark that’s found their next meal, I intentionally step around him, loudly, so he’s aware of my proximity.

Zamir’s brows pull together, and I know he’s wondering how I got the cheating information. Smith’s name popped up on some of our Dominatrix’s client lists, and some of the Doms have had their way with him. His wife was never willing to take control, so he sought it out behind her back. I’ll be sure to send her a free year-long membership to Sins to rub some hot sex in his face.

No! What would be better is her dominating another man while making him watch.

Leaning into the pathetic man in front of me, I grit my teeth. “I need you listening and giving us answers, Smith. We don’t have much time and would hate to see these pictures of you tied up like this, making it out to your colleagues.”

* ? Ronald - Falling in Reverse, Tech N9ne, Alex Terrible

* ? mess of me, sexually - Artemas