22. Chapter Damian
H ow I fucking hate coming to Vortex.
One of the most exclusive private clubs of Chicago—scratch that—the world. An invite-only exclusive club, where all the top businessmen from around the world come to enjoy the endless amenities or complete multimillion-dollar business transactions. The inside of the club is exactly as expected—fucking tacky. Apparently, the appeal of this place is that they have kept it identical to when it was founded.
The ceiling is full of chandelier lights, and the main room has leather seats with tables scattered all over the place, and a bar at the corner of the room where they only keep top-shelf alcohol. The building has four floors, the top being an immense library that includes all the classics; plus all the books the founding members have written. The third floor is a casino, while the second floor is a full spa and gym, as well as a basketball court and boxing ring. The first floor is the entrance, typically where people hang out at the bar, or sit around the tables to talk. Walking in, I look around until I spot Enzo and Matteo sitting at the back of the room, playing chess.
I always feel so out of place here. It makes my skin crawl. Being a self-made billionaire puts you in that odd spot where people who come from old money don’t want anything to do with you, and the other half is focused on themselves, trying to keep up with their self-made appearances. The only reason I got a membership is because I needed the connections when I was building my empire. It was out of pure necessity. The guys like meeting here once a month, whether it is to just sit down and play chess or talk business. Enzo kind of has to come here more often than not, since he’s on the board. One of the founding members was our great-great-grandfather, so the vice presidency title has been passed down through generations. The only reason I escaped the responsibility is because we’re cousins from my mother’s side. The position is only passed through the sons of the Mancini family, more specifically, the oldest of the bunch. He didn’t have that much of an option because he’s an only child, so this means he’s gonna have to get cracking and make a child before our uncles go after the position. It comes with power and connections anyone would kill to have. I don’t think he cares that much, anyway. He just kind of got stuck with the socialite responsibilities by default.
I walk toward them, taking a seat next to my cousin and leaning back into the comfortable plush leather, crossing my legs.
“Checkmate,” Matteo says with a grin as he moves his bishop, cornering Enzo’s king.
Enzo slaps the table and murmurs, “Bullshit.”
“You’ve always sucked at chess, cugino ,” I taunt, gaining a glare from Enzo as he flips me off.
To be honest, no one can beat Matteo. Even I can admit that, and I’m really good at chess. The man is a fucking genius; too smart for his own good. One of these days he’s going to get himself in some serious shit, because he’s one reckless motherfucker too.
Enzo smirks, his eyes haunting with amusement as he asks, “How’s that cute employee of yours?”
This little fucker.
I glare at him without giving a response. And he just laughs as his eyes flicker with amusement, knowing damn well what he’s doing.
I’m not going to play his games.
“It’s alright, Enzo. At least you can beat me in poker.” Matteo grins .
He points a finger at Matteo. “Yeah, because I don’t let you fucking card count. If I did, you would win and you know it.”
Matteo shrugs as he leans back on the couch with his arms behind his head, closing his eyes and humming.
“Why in such a good mood, Carter?” I ask.
“Well, if you must know, Romano—”
I snap my hand up, interrupting him. “You know what? I actually don’t care. Let’s get this shit on the road. I have places to be.”
More like I can’t get back to work fast enough to see a particular redhead. I haven’t been able to get Aria out of my head since I helped her through her panic attack.
I wonder how often she gets them.
I researched how to help someone through one, and thankfully, the tips worked. Something strange possessed me and before I knew it, I was knees-deep in research. I wonder what triggered it. From what I found, it said that if you ask too many questions too fast, another one can be triggered and I just wasn’t willing to risk her safety like that. Also, it’s really none of my fucking business—even though, deep down, for some unknown reason, I want to very much make it my business.
“I have one of the guys that broke into the gallery in custody,” Matteo says.
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Okay, tell me more. ”
“I have my guys trying to break him, but he’s a tough fucker.” Matteo shakes his head in disbelief.
“Do we know who hired him? Or why he targeted me for that matter?”
Matteo taps his temple with his index finger twice. “We found a foreign bank account under one of his aliases that has two million dollars in it. And it has one single transaction, dated around the time it happened.”
“Damn, Damian, who the hell did you piss off that they were willing to pay two million dollars to break into your gallery?” Enzo asks, laughing.
That’s the thing—I have no fucking idea who would do this. And that’s what irritates me the most. Who the fuck is targeting me? Where do I even start looking? I have the feeling this person is right under my nose, but they are covering their tracks well.
Matteo nods, agreeing with Enzo. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. It doesn’t make sense.” He shakes his head. “How much was the painting they stole worth again?”
“Only thirty grand,” I confirm and murmur, “I wonder why they paid him so much.”
“I don’t think this was a solo job. He’s sharing that money with other people. But I haven’t been able to find anyone else,” Matteo points out.
I close my eyes, massaging my temples, trying not to lose my shit .
Matteo grips my shoulder and squeezes it. “Don’t worry too much about it. We’ll get to the bottom of it,” he says confidently.
I thin my lips, contemplating my actions. I’m so fucking close to saying fuck it, get involved, and punch the answers out of him myself. But this is why I pay people to do things for me. Being thirty-five, I’ve learned a thing or two in business, one of them is to always have people around you, because you can’t do it all.
“How about a game of chess now, Romano?” Matteo asks.
“No fucking way. It bores me to play with you.”
He snorts at my comment. “Only because you always lose.”
I flick his forehead, causing him to hiss. Enzo laughs, so I flick him too.
“What the hell was that for?”
“For asking questions you shouldn’t be asking,” I say dryly.
He places his palm on top of his mouth, trying to hide his smirk as he says, “ Right . I forget Red is a touchy subject.”
Through gritted teeth, I reply, “She has a name, and it’s not Red, idiota.” Idiot .
“Who are we talking about?” Matteo asks curiously.
“You remember when we went to the club with Romano? He wasn’t there to have fun. He was there to follow a certain employee of his,” Enzo taunts, trying to get a rise out of me. “I’m surprised you like them young, cugino . Consider me proud.”
“She’s twenty-five years old, not fucking nineteen. Stop making me look like a fucking creep,” I sneer.
There are worst things than a ten-year age gap between two consenting fucking adults.
Why are you so upset? It’s not like she’s with you.
“Aha, so you do like her,” he retorts smugly.
“Like you even care that I wasn’t there to have fun. You disappeared the second we got there,” I say deflecting, trying to steer the conversation away.
Enzo shrugs. “Well, yeah. I go to clubs to hook up, not to go babysit a grown woman. You do know she can make her own decisions, right?”
I wave my hand dismissively. “You don’t get it.”
And he truly doesn’t. Enzo is nothing but a player, getting high off playing games whether is with women or actual gambling. He has never taken anything seriously once in his life, and I don’t think he ever will.
“I get it. Love makes you a fool,” he jokes.
“ Love? ” I say in an incredulous tone. “Please, Enzo, give me more credit than that.”
Do I think about her all the time? Yes .
Do I want to spend all my waking moments with her? Also, yes .
Does the possibility of her being with someone else drive me to the brink of insanity? Abso-fucking-lutely .
But I am not in love with Aria Petrov.
Or so I keep telling myself.