Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
JULIAN
“So, you suspect that because you told Natasha that you had a delivery coming to this warehouse this morning, that whoever’s been stealing your shit will show up.
” Rome is sitting next to me in my Porsche.
We’re alone. No security. I’ve hidden the car in the trees from a vantage point where we can see anyone coming or going from the warehouse, but they can’t see us.
“Her necklace lit up,” I tell him again, and feel nausea roll through me once more, the way it has from the minute I saw that motherfucking green light. “Jesus, Rome. Fuck.”
“Let’s see if your hunch is right. Don’t lose your shit until you know for sure.”
I sigh, hoping with everything in me that I’m wrong. It can’t be her.
It can’t be my angel.
Fuck, I love her. I’m crazy about her. If she’s been playing me this whole time, I won’t just lose my shit. I’ll go crazy. I don’t know what my life looks like without her in it anymore. After such a short time of being married to her, she’s everything.
“Maybe the device I was using had a low battery,” I mutter, grasping for any other explanation.
Rome doesn’t say anything.
He knows that’s not the case. I don’t ever let anything I own have a low fucking battery.
“I sound like an idiot.”
“No, you sound like a man who wants to believe the best of his wife. You’re not an idiot for that. You’re an idiot for a whole host of other reasons.” Rome sighs and drags his hand down his face. “Five minutes.”
I nod silently. I haven’t been this nervous in . . . ever. I’ve never been nervous a day in my life. There’s no place for it in my line of work. I’m sure about every step I take, every decision I make, and I never question myself. If you falter, you die.
But for the first time in my life, my hands want to shake.
Jesus Christ, I never expected to be brought to my knees by a curvy bombshell of a woman with perfect lips and a sassy mouth. She’s finally starting to open up and tell me what she needs and wants. She’s just coming out of a shell that I know was built out of a lifetime of abuse and pain.
At least, that’s what she’s told me.
She touches me without a second thought, and never flinches when I touch her, and it feels like I finally soothed a broken animal.
I’ve completely fallen for Natasha in every way. Her body that I know better than my own, her smart-as-fuck mind, the way she laughs, and even how horrible she is in the kitchen. And don’t even get me started on how her music is like medicine for me.
I could listen to her play for weeks on end and never tire of it.
But for all I know, her father treated her like a motherfucking princess and her experience with Elliott was the first time she’s ever been mistreated. Maybe her father beat the hell out of her as a decoy, to make me believe she’d been hurt.
I don’t have any proof to the contrary, and that’s what’s sending me out of my goddamn mind.
“Shit,” Rome mutters, and my gaze comes up to see the armored SUV roll up in front of the warehouse. “Fucking shit.”
“We don’t have any backup,” I mutter. “But we can attack and kill these fuckers.”
“I’m with you.”
Rome and I both grab extra firepower out of the front of the car, and then we’re silently on the move, coming around the warehouse from behind.
I hear them bust down the door, and I can hear voices. I motion for Rome to stop, and we listen.
“He said nine,” someone growls. “I heard it plain as day. He must have been fucking her for all I know, his voice was so clear.”
They’re all going to die.
And then I have to deal with my wife.
“Well there’s nothing here,” another says, and I nod at Rome.
We move through the door to behind them, still silent. There are four of them.
Two are dead from blades slicing their necks before the other two realize what’s happened.
“Shit!”
They don’t have time to say anything else before we have them on the ground, restrained and gagged, and then I call Jack.
“I need transport,” I tell him. “I have two for the cell.”
It’s been more than twenty-four hours. Actually, it’s well past noon now, so we’ve been working these assholes over for a long time, taking shifts.
I haven’t been home. What little sleep I got was in one of the extra apartments upstairs in my building.
I can’t stomach looking at her right now, let alone being in the same room with her, and as good as I am at keeping a straight face, I’m afraid that I’ll let my rage take over and I’ll put a bullet in her head.
I’m so fucking pissed off.
She knows that I’m working, and that’s all she needs to know. I have men keeping an eye on her. She spent yesterday at the spa and then stayed in last night.
And I fucking hate myself for missing her.
Because all the evidence points to Natasha being the one feeding information to her father to fuck with my business. Putting my men, my family, in danger. Men are dead because of her. And she is going to pay for that.
“Wake up,” Mateo barks at the first of the two men that we have hanging in the basement of my building. He slaps him across the face, making him moan.
These two have had a shit twenty-four hours.
Their faces are both swollen, barely able to see through eyelids the size of golf balls. We relieved Number One of his left foot, then cauterized it so he didn’t bleed out.
Number Two no longer has fingernails or molars, and just an hour ago, we decided he could live without his hips being in their respective joints.
That had to fucking hurt like a bitch.
And yet, they still don’t want to talk. So, it’s time to get more creative.
“Don’t know,” Number One mutters, and I get closer.
“What did you say?”
“Don’t know anything.”
I nod slowly and pace away from him. Fuck, I’m tired. Bone-, soul-deep tired.
“Except, you’ve been listening to me with my wife.” I turn and see him wince. “Have you listened in while I fucked her? While she screamed my name?”
“No.”
“Yeah, I don’t fucking believe you. I’m going to take your cock for that, but first I want to know who you fucking work for.”
Say Sergei Ivanov.
“Contract.”
“You know who you’re reporting to,” Mateo says. “You know exactly what’s going on. You can try to wait us out, but we won’t kill you for a long fucking time, asshole, and every last minute of your life is going to be in agony. So you might as well just tell us.”
“I wonder if they think we’re stupid?” I turn to Mateo, as if we’re just hanging out with a couple of beers, shooting the shit. “You know? Like, we haven’t been doing this for the majority of our lives. We have practice at this.”
“A lot of practice,” Mateo agrees with a nod. “Did you know that death by a thousand cuts is really a thing? You can keep a man alive for years that way. Sounds pretty shitty to me, but I might be up for the challenge.”
“I don’t have anything else going on right now.” That’s a lie. But these assholes don’t know that. “Maybe we should split them up, then go at them. I bet they’re not so brave if they’re alone.”
“True.” Mateo tilts his head, watching the two men hang and listen to us. “Or?”
“Or.”
I pull my knife from the sheath on my belt and slash it across Number Two’s throat and watch as the life drains out of him.
Number One whimpers.
“There, now it’s just the three of us.” Number Two continues to bleed out, the drip, drip, drip of the thick liquid loud in this empty concrete cell.
“And I’m going to torture you until you tell me everything you fucking know.
You’re not getting out of here alive. That’s a given.
But how long you suffer is completely up to you. ”
“And he’s pissed,” Mateo adds. “So the torture will be . . . extra shitty.”
“Extra shitty,” I agree. “Did you know that I can remove every inch of your skin from your body while you’re conscious? I mean, you’ll eventually die of hypothermia, but that could take a while.”
He whimpers again. Pussy.
“Who do you fucking work for?”
“Ivanov.”
Without another word, I slit his throat and walk away, pulling my phone out of my pocket as I go.
I missed three messages from my wife.
Wife: I missed you last night. I hope you’re safe.
Wife: I’m going to the shop where I bought that bag I told you about. It finally came in!
Wife: Please just let me know that you’re okay.
“Fuck.”
Mateo and I have just reached the parking garage when Jack strides over to me, his face more grim than normal.
“You need to see something, boss.”
“Show me.”
He passes me an iPad, and I narrow my eyes and press play on the video.
Natasha walks into a restaurant and greets her father. He kisses her cheek, and she smiles at him.
She fucking smiles at him.
With my heart thudding in my chest, I watch as they talk for a minute, and then Sergei’s face turns angry. He reaches out and swipes the necklace, snapping it off her throat, and then tosses it on the table.
Because he knows exactly what it is.
“Where is she now?” I ask as I pass the iPad back to Jack.
“On her way to the mansion.”
I nod once and stride to my car.
I have to go take care of my perfect, sweet little traitorous wife.