Chapter Forty-Seven
MONIQUE
––––––––
Monique flinched as the crack of a gunshot echoed through the stairwell from the direction Raz had gone. Her heart raced, but she forced herself to stay calm, gripping her weapon tightly.
Leo glanced over at her. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Raz is safe.”
Monique nodded, trying to take comfort in Leo’s confidence. But she couldn’t stop herself from worrying. She had a knot in her stomach, and her intuition was telling her something was wrong.
“Who do you think the kid is that’s crying?” Monique asked, her voice low.
Leo shrugged, eyes scanning the stairwell. “The Cattaneo family is huge. It could be anyone’s kid. Or, hell, maybe it’s the child of one of the old don’s enemies. With that man, you never know. He’d use anyone to get what he wants.”
Monique swallowed hard, that thought making her sick to the stomach. The old don had already proven how far he’d go to get his title back. Nothing was sacred to that man. But fatherhood should be, right?
He wouldn’t hurt his own son, right? She thought about asking Leo that but was afraid to hear the answer. The faint creak of a door below them echoed up the stairwell, followed by the shuffle of footsteps. Leo stiffened, turning to Monique with a serious look.
“There’s movement down there. Possibly the old don’s men. Stay here. I’ll go check it out,” he told her.
“I’ll go with you.”
“Yeah, and then Raz would kill me. Stay here. I’ll just have a look and come right back. I won’t engage. I just need to be able to alert our team if they have some shooters heading their way.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but Leo was already moving, heading down the stairs. Her eyes followed him as he made his way around the corner. She leaned over the railing, watching his back disappear as he stepped into the hallway of the floor below.
Her mind raced. Should she stay? Raz had told her to stay with Leo, to trust him to protect her. But she wasn’t one to just stand by, waiting and hoping for the best. Not when every second could make the difference between life and death for the people she cared for.
Monique's gaze shifted to the door Raz had gone through. The memory of his parting words flickered in her mind, his promise to return. Why wasn’t he back yet? Had something gone wrong? Had the old don found a way to outsmart them?
Another gunshot ripped through the air, coming from Raz’s direction. Her heart leapt, panic surging. She was torn. Raz may need her. Leo could be in trouble. She couldn’t just stay there, useless. She had to help.
Forget it! She was going to check on her man and then check on Leo. They could get mad at her later once everyone was safe. She was about to move when the unmistakable sound of footsteps reached her ears.
Damn it! She faced the stairs. Monique raised her gun, muscles tensing as she prepared for whoever was coming. It wasn’t Leo. He’d entered the hallway. But why hasn’t he returned yet?
The footsteps grew louder, hurried. Her finger hovered over the trigger, ready to fire. But then she saw who it was as the person rounded the corner. Barefoot and wide-eyed, Isla came running up the stairs, her face pale, her breath ragged, her dress torn.
“Don’t shoot,” Isla breathed heavily.
Monique exhaled slowly, lowering her gun. “What the hell, Isla?” Monique muttered, more from frustration than relief.
Isla reached the landing, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Monique could already tell something was wrong. The woman looked panicked, her eyes darting back toward the stairwell like someone was right behind her.
Monique stepped closer to Isla, her eyes narrowing in concern as she took in the woman's state. Isla’s perfectly styled hair was now in wild disarray. Her dress was torn, there was a panicked look in her eyes, and she was trembling slightly.
“What happened?” Monique asked.
“They found... us,” Isla gasped, fighting to catch her breath. She paused to gulp down more air. “The don’s men. They found us... and they took my dad.”
Monique’s eyes widened.
“They’re dragging him down the hall,” Isla cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. “One of them tried to.. he tried to...” Her voice cracked, and she couldn’t finish the sentence.
Monique didn’t need her to. The sight of Isla’s ripped dress, the way she was desperately clutching it to her chest to keep her breasts from showing, said everything. Monique’s stomach twisted with disgust and fury.
The old don’s men weren’t just disloyal to Raz, they weren’t just killers. They were the type of men who preyed on women. The worst of the worst. For that alone, they deserved death.
“I didn’t have a gun,” Isla continued, her voice shaking with rage. “I lost it while trying to fight them off. I need Leo or Raz. I need them to help me get my dad back. The don’s men, they... they killed my father’s guards,” she sobbed, her entire body shaking. “I can’t let them kill my dad too. He’s all I have let.”
Those words nearly broke Monique. “How far away are they?” she asked.
“Down the hall,” Isla sobbed. “If you give me a gun, I’ll go kill those fuckers myself.”
Monique stared at her for a moment, considering her options. She didn’t trust Isla enough to give her a gun. Plus, with the way the woman was trembling, there was no telling what Isla might do in her current state.
There was a chance Isla could shoot her dad by mistake if her aim was off. But the thought of the old don’s men hurting Frederico, of them possibly killing him, didn’t sit well with Monique.
Raz had already wounded the man because of her. She couldn’t let him die here. She had to do something. Monique owed Frederico that much, regardless of the tension between them.
"Stay here," Monique told Miconi’s daughter. She glanced toward the stairwell door, knowing Leo hadn’t returned yet. Whatever was happening below, Leo would have to handle it on his own for now.
“I’ll go with you...” Isla started.
“No," Monique cut her off. "I’ll take care of it. You stay here and don’t move. I’ll try to stop them. Leo or Raz should be back soon. Let them know where I’ve gone.”
With that, Monique turned and strode forward, her mind already calculating what needed to be done. She didn’t trust Isla, but she couldn’t ignore what was happening. She wouldn’t let the old don’s men take Frederico just because she didn’t like his daughter.
Though she’d rather be helping Raz or Leo, she trusted them to be able to handle their own. Frederico was in no condition to defend himself. He was in more danger than them. Monique took another step forward.
“I should go with you,” Isla whispered.
“It’d be better if you stayed here,” Monique insisted, glancing over her shoulder at the still trembling woman.
Isla shook her head, causing her hair to fall into her face. She tossed her hair out of her face before saying, “I’m going with you. He’s my father. I may not have a gun, but I can help get him to safety. You won’t be able to carry him on your own.”
That was true. Plus, Monique had a feeling Isla didn’t want to be alone right now. That was understandable.
Giving in, Monique told her, “Alright. Stay behind me.”
Isla nodded. Just as Monique was about to turn away, Isla stopped her by grabbing her wrist gently.
“Thank you, Monique,” Isla said, her voice softer now.
“For what?” Monique asked, eyes narrowing in confusion.
Isla released Monique to wipe her eyes, smudging her mascara as she did so. “For helping me, despite how I’ve behaved.”
“Thank me after we rescue Frederico,” Monique replied, brushing off the sentiment.
Now wasn’t the time to get sentimental. Isla nodded again. Monique faced forward, gripping her gun tightly as she led the way down the stairs, ready to confront whatever stood between them and saving Frederico.
“You really are a good person,” Isla’s voice floated from behind her. “I can see why my dad and Orazio like you.”
Monique’s brows furrowed. Now was not the time to be chatty.
“Shh...” Monique whispered, needing silence to focus.
She listened intently for any sounds of approaching footsteps or voices as they carefully made their way down the stairs.
“Why would I be quiet when there’s so much I want to say to you, Ms. Rose?” Isla told her.
Monique froze mid-step, every muscle tensing at the sudden shift in Isla's voice. That cold, low drawl sent a chill down her spine. Something was off. She kept her gaze forward, her fingers tightening around her gun.
“I really didn’t expect you to help me. I guess you think that makes you a good person. But I think it makes you a bit naive,” Isla drawled, her voice now dripping with menace. “Too na?ve to be the wife of a don.”
Shit! Shit! Shit! Why the hell had she believed this bitch after everything Isla had done and said? Monique swallowed, forcing herself to stay calm. She wasn’t going to panic. Not yet.
“What are you talking about, Isla?” Monique asked, managing to keep her voice from trembling. Yet, the tension in her body remained. She didn’t turn around. She didn’t want to make any sudden movements.
Isla’s pause hung in the air for a beat too long before she answered, her voice soft but full of venom. “You know what I’m talking about. Did you really think I’d run to you for help?” Isla sighed. “Since you did try to take care of me when you thought I was in danger, I’ll do you a favor. I’ll make this quick, with minimal pain. I’ll make it look like the old don’s men did it.”
Monique’s heart sank. Isla wasn’t there seeking help. The panic, the fear, her disheveled appearance, it had all been an act. And now, Monique had her back to her enemy, an enemy who wanted her dead. She couldn’t believe she’d let herself get put in this position.
The question was, how was she going to get out of it?