Chapter 10
JADE
I tighten my hands on the steering wheel, beeping the horn at the slow driver before me.
Damn it! I’m going to get there even later!
I texted Chiara earlier, asking if it’s okay that I show up a few hours late to work, but she never responded.
I found that strange. She always responds right away.
But I couldn’t come in to work earlier no matter what.
I had the worst headache, the kind you can’t even function through, the kind that has you heaving into the toilet.
Migraines suck. The meds have finally kicked in though, so that’s a relief.
I’d never taken a day off, knowing that if Faro found out, he’d be furious. But I had to take the risk. I’d be no good up there with how badly I felt.
That’s what I’d tell him if he confronted me. That he needs me at my best, and I wouldn’t dare disappoint the master.
Insert eye roll.
Faro is the type of man who enjoys someone bolstering his ever-growing ego. I know exactly what to say to him. Not that it works all the time, but I’ve gotten lucky and tempered his anger a time or two.
Finally arriving, I find four black SUVs parked beside one another.
That’s odd.
The place is normally packed at this late hour. There’s always a bouncer stationed at the side entrance, but I don’t see one now.
Oh crap, maybe Faro found out about me being late and shut the place down so he could kill me.
Okay, I’m probably being a tad dramatic.
He wouldn’t stop business just to kill me.
He would’ve sent someone to my house by now.
But something is going on. The fact that Chiara never responded to my text worries me even more. I have to make sure she’s okay.
My legs weigh a thousand pounds as I shut the car off, swinging my feet out onto the concrete. With a tightening in my chest and the crashing of the anxiety in my stomach, I trudge toward the entrance.
As I get closer, I don’t hear any music. I hear nothing but male voices in the distance as I open the door. Who the hell are these men? Did they hurt her?
I gasp as the voices get closer, gently closing the door as multiple footsteps march from the back, ready to come face-to-face with me.
I slap a hand over my mouth to stifle the fear crawling up my throat. Tiptoeing away, I hide behind the bar, hoping whoever the hell is here won’t find me. I can’t afford to get caught in whatever is happening. If I’m dead, Robby is truly alone, and that can’t happen.
“Stay here,” a man whose voice I never heard before says. “The boss said we’re gonna be here all night until they show up. We kill every one of them and bring their heads to him.”
“I ain’t chopping someone’s head off.”
“Cool. Then I’ll be chopping yours off because if you don’t fucking do what Faro wants, you’ll die for it, my friend.”
“Fuck. Fine. Yeah,” the guy grumbles weakly.
Shit. Shit.
Whatever’s about to happen is going to be bad.
Where the hell are you, Chiara?
My heart pounds so heavily in my rib cage that a thick sense of nausea churns in the pit of my stomach.
Closing my eyes, I pray that they don’t find me. If they do, they’ll kill me. There’s no question.
I’m a witness, and the Bianchis don’t like witnesses. I may make them a lot of money but they’d get rid of me without hesitation if it meant they were protected.
I stay motionless for what feels like an eternity, losing all sense of time.
My pulse thrashes endlessly every time I hear the men walking right beside me, every time another happens to march out from the back.
I wrap my arms around my trembling knees.
My foot rattles, bumping into something with a low thud.
My eyes bulge as I suck and hold my breath, my lungs burning as I do, but that exhale is paralyzed within.
“Did you hear that?” one asks another.
Hairs on my arms prick across my flesh, my heartbeats thundering in my ears.
“I’m gonna go check it out.”
Thump. Thump.
He comes nearer.
An ache builds behind my eyes.
This is it. I’m going to die.
My poor Robby.
I finally release that breath, tears trailing down my cheeks.
I’m so sorry, baby. Please forgive me. For all of it.
My attention lands on the thing I hit with my foot, a black bag with something that looks like the barrel of a gun sticking out under it.
Crunch.
The man, he’s closer now. Too close.
Just as I’m about to reach down and grab the gun, in a last-ditch effort to die with some damn dignity, a loud bang sounds off, and instantly, chaos erupts.
“They’re here!” someone yells.
Pop.
Pop.
Gunshots ring from all directions, a bullet landing into the wall right in front of me, my eyes popping wide.
What the fuck is going on?
Tentatively, I reach down, slowly sliding the gun from under the bag, and grip it in my shuddering hand. I don’t want another murder on my conscience, but I will shoot if I have to. Bullets fire while I cower deeper into my hiding spot, thankful I have some protection.
The people continue to fight, the groans and loud scuffle slowly easing, the shooting finally diminishing until it ends. But the men, they’re still here.
“Fuck,” someone groans, “I’m hit.”
Oh God. I hope that means they’ll leave soon.
I need to get out of here before they find me.
My heart tosses inside me as some of the men continue talking about getting their friend some help.
“Let’s load up and get the fuck out of here!” one shouts to the other.
Relief washes over me, and without realizing, I let out a small whimper.
Oh no! What have I done?
“Did you hear that?” a man says, but that voice…
It can’t be…
My skin tingles, a sudden coldness hitting the very core of me. The fear, the shock, it all comes to the surface.
I refuse to believe that the man I’ve grown to care for, the one I was forced to let go of, is the one in the midst of all this violence.
I’d seen him at the club in these last months, with a different dancer on his lap each time, taunting me.
He’d show up with the same man he’s normally with, both of them always with Carlito and his crew. Why he hangs out with those men when he’s never been anything like them still makes no sense.
Every time I was forced to dance for Carlito or one of his people, the look on Enzo’s face was one that could kill. I was kinda afraid he would.
Is him having two names related to this? Is he a cop or a rival mobster? So many questions swirl into my mind and I’ll probably never get the answers.
Say something again.
But hushed whispers are all I hear now.
I hold the gun tighter in my palm, swallowing away the dread coursing up from the tight knots in my stomach. Would he harm me?
Before I can even compose my thoughts, there’s a loud crash over the bar, and the next thing I know, someone leaps over it, his black pants and matching sneakers the first thing I see.
My eyes go round, my hand jittering, the weapon almost slipping out of it. “Get away from me!” I scream, before looking up, finding a man wearing a black ski mask.
Clutching the gun in the jerkiness of my grip, I slowly raise it to him, aiming it at his stomach. Whoever this is, he better leave because I will shoot.
Where’s Enzo? If he sees it’s me, I’m sure he’d let me leave. No matter what he thinks I did, I refuse to believe he’d hate me enough to cause me harm.
The man raises his palms out but I keep the gun where it is.
“We’re not going to hurt you. Come on out.”
I suck in a breath.
“Enzo?” I whisper it so low, he probably doesn’t hear me.
“I’ve got my brothers out there,” he continues, his tone even. “Plus a bunch of the men who work for us. We swear we won’t do anything to you.”
Is he serious? I’d never go anywhere with him knowing what I know now. “I don’t care! You need to leave before I blow your fucking brains out.”
I raise the gun a little higher, aiming it at his face this time. If they leave, I can finally get out of here before Faro or Agnelo shows up.
“As much as I love a hot woman with a weapon, especially when that woman is you, you need to stop pointing that thing at me, Joelle.” I can see his mouth move into that well-known smirk beneath his mask.
I should shoot him. I should make him pay for lying to me or more like omitting all the facts about himself. He’s a damn criminal. He’s no cop. “Fuck you, Enzo.”
He continues to smile in that way that would set me on fire. But now, I want to set him on fire instead. How could I be so stupid? Why did I think a normal man would want a woman like me?
He leans his back against the edge of the other side of the bar, staring over at me, and those eyes, I wouldn’t even need to hear his voice to recognize the vivid blaze of bright green.
“You should know by now the main reason I come here is for you. The way you own that pole…” He pauses, practically growling. “Damn, girl. You’re like a snake on that thing.”
Did he really just say that? The back of my nose burns. That’s all I was, just someone to look at?
But he never wanted me to strip. He insisted I didn’t, so why is he talking to me like that? But it’s not even worth asking. It doesn’t matter. We’re over. He’s clearly dangerous, and I don’t need any more danger in my life or in Robby’s.
Any man I bring into our world, if I ever have a life of my own, will be someone who could be a father to my boy. Someone good. Safe. Not whoever this Patrick or Enzo is. He’s a fabrication. Someone I manifested. Someone that doesn’t exist.
“How about you put that gun down and come out with us,” he says coolly. “I’ll drive you home.”
“I’m good here.” I tip up my chin, narrowing my eyes into a tight glare, hoping the gun gets him to leave me alone. “You can go.”
“Okay, sure, babe, you stay.” He shrugs, pulling back from the bar. “But it’d be a real goddamn shame to see all that beautiful skin burn to a crisp when we torch the place down. Wouldn’t want all that talent to go to waste.”
“Fuck you!” I shout, the anger crashing over me.
He shakes his head mockingly. “Such a pretty mouth saying such dirty things.”
You should hear what I actually want to say to you, asshole.
I almost have hope that he’ll give up on me and go, but instead, his leg snaps out and he kicks the gun right out of my grasp.
A gasp rushes out and I back into the end of the bar wall, my chest heaving with fear. He stares sharply as he lowers himself, gripping my forearm softly. “Stop fighting me, baby.” His voice falters with emotion. “I’m not tryin’ to hurt you.”
My heart seizes with a beat, my eyes watering for a fleeting moment, wanting that connection we had in what feels like forever ago. But no. I can’t fall into our trap. He’s not a safe choice. He’s a violent one.
“Don’t fucking touch me, you asshole!” I bellow, and he groans with a shake of his head before he roughly yanks me up. I kick out my feet, fighting him off, but it’s no use. He’s way stronger than I am. He stands me up, my chest rising harshly.
“Asshole?” There’s humor there, his free palm landing against his chest with feigned shock. “That was me being a gentleman. If I were an asshole…” He fists my hair, tugging my face right up to his. “I’d drag you out by your throat.”
I narrow another glare filled with vile contempt, frozen with the rage sheathing me. His breaths are even, unlike mine, as his jaw pulses through the fabric.
His gaze darts to my lips, and mine goes to his mouth. Is it wrong that the fire still burns for a man I shouldn’t want, not anymore, not after this? But I want him. I want us. I do. And I hate myself for it. What kind of woman am I for desiring a man such as him?
I can tell he feels it, that anger, but that wild attraction too. I can’t turn it off and neither can he.
We continue to stare at one another, battling without words, without weapons. I feel the rousing in my gut, that fear turning into awakened desire.
It’s sick. I’m sick. I want to rip away his mask and kiss him. Tell him how sorry I am for lying, for kissing that man he believed was my boyfriend.
He’s the only one I want, despite knowing what he’s capable of.
But it’s too late now.
We’re too far gone.
“Come on, man. Dante needs help!” someone hollers.
That causes him to rip away his eyes from mine. And I feel it. That loss. It burns.
“Yeah, shit. My bad.” He rubs the back of his neck for a moment, then pulls me away from around the bar.
As we walk away, I hear his hushed words, probably thinking I can’t hear a thing as he talks with a man beside him. But I hear it all.
“Do you realize who we have?” he tells him.
“What are you talking about?”
“She’s the Bianchi brothers’ favorite toy. She makes them a crap ton of dough.”
My hands tighten into fists, my eyes narrowing. How dare he say that about me.
“What do you wanna do with her?”
“I’m gonna keep her,” he says on a laugh. “What better way to fuck with them? We burn their club and take their favorite girl.”
“What!” I utter with a huff.
But they both ignore me, like I’m an invisible ghost.
“Fine,” the man grates. “She stays with you.”
“Hell no!” I yell. “I’m not staying with him!”
If Faro finds out Enzo has me, I’m as good as dead. He’ll think I talked about the members-only club, then he’ll kill my son. I have to be back home in case they check.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Enzo chuckles. “I have a feeling she and I will have lots of fun together.” He roughly pulls me against his side.
I groan, the anger permeating my every cell as I stare ahead.
I’ll figure out a plan. I will get out of this.
I know fighting him right here is no use. He’s going to have me no matter what I do. I’m well versed in knowing when to battle and when to play dead. I’ll play this game until he’s the one lying on the ground with a dagger in his chest, the one I’ll put there.
Then, I’ll find my boy and we’ll run until we can’t run anymore, even if I die trying.