Chapter Forty-Eight
MONIQUE
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She should’ve known better than to trust Isla Miconi! She could only blame herself for her current situation. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly, her mind racing, trying to figure out her next move. What to do?
“Did you really think you could waltz into my world and take everything that’s mine?” Isla’s voice rose from behind her, seething with resentment. “Orazio. My father. Everything!” Isla’s words were laced with bitterness and jealousy.
Monique kept her tone calm when she said, “I’m not trying to take anything from you, Isla.”
“Liar! Did you really think I’d let a bitch who looks like you stand in the way of the things I deserve?” Isla snapped.
No, this hoe didn’t. Stay calm, Monique. She couldn’t act off emotion and let that crazy ass woman’s words make her do something reckless. Gripping her gun tightly, Monique stared at the wall in front of her as Isla continued talking behind her.
“You think you’ve made Orazio stronger, but all you’ve done is make him weak. He’s soft because of you. He’s forgotten who he is, where his loyalties lie.”
“Killing me won’t solve anything,” Monique told her.
“Not true. It’ll make me feel better. You almost made me feel like I wasn’t good enough for him. Also, you being out of the picture will set Orazio free,” Isla hissed. “Once you’re gone, he’ll remember who he is. He’ll remember what’s important for his organization. Love isn’t needed for people like us. Only the poor and the fragile desire love. Strong people desire money, power, and respect.”
Monique was barely listening as Isla rambled on and on. Her mind was going through scenarios, searching for one that wouldn’t end with Raz finding her dead body in a stairwell. So far, nothing she came up with seemed feasible.
If she spun around, Isla could possibly fire before she did. If she tried to run, she may get a bullet to the back of the head before she got far. Since Isla seemed to be a talker, the safest thing to do would be to talk the woman down. Or, at least, try to.
“Orazio won’t forgive you if you hurt me,” Monique told Isla.
“I won’t need his forgiveness because he won’t know it was me. I’ll make sure of that. That’s why I lured Leo away. By the way, he’s a weak link also. He’s supposed to stick by his don’s side, not guard his don’s trash.”
Monique gritted her teeth to keep from saying something that would instantly get her shot.
“Weak links cause chains to break. I’d be doing Orazio a favor by getting rid of him.” As if on cue, gunshots rang out in the distance. “Hear that,” Isla drawled. “By now, Leo’s probably already dead.”
Monique’s breath caught in her throat. Tears stung her eyes. She blinked them back. Crying wouldn’t solve anything. Plus, Isla could be lying. It wasn’t like she hadn’t done so before.
“I’m not your enemy, Isla,” Monique announced, trying to sound calm. “This doesn’t have to go down this way.”
“It’s too late for things to go any other way. I don’t want you in my world, Monique Rose. Even if Orazio did choose me, I’d still have to see you because of my dad. I want him to find someone to be with. I support that. But it could never be you. He needs someone to match his status. You would only bring down the value of the Miconi name. What kind of daughter would I be if I let that happen?”
When I get my hands on this bitch...
“None of that is important right now, Isla. We’ve got more important things to deal with. I’m just trying to get through this like everyone else.” Monique kept her voice soft, trying to ease the situation. She couldn’t let her anger show. Not yet.
“There’s nothing more important than my future. I don’t care who dies here today. I just need to secure my future, and I need a marriage to the new don to do that. I need the support of his mothe...” Isla went silent, leaving her sentence unfinished.
Monique had a feeling Isla had been about to reveal who was behind her and Miconi’s desire to have Raz marry into their family.
“No more talking,” Isla yelled.
“Why don’t you talk to me face to face?” Monique rushed to say. “Like a real woman.” Monique’s heart pounded as she began to turn around, her movements slow.
“Don’t you fucking turn around!” Isla screamed, sounding half-crazed.
Monique froze, her heart leaping into her throat. One wrong move and this could end in disaster. She could now see Isla from the corner of her eyes. She could see the gun pointed in her direction.
“I’ve never taken a life before,” Isla confessed. “I know my father has. I know Orazio has. He seems to be so proud of you and the way you’ve been handling things. Even my father was willing to follow your lead. I want that. I want to be the one they’re proud of...”
Monique had already tuned out the rest of Isla’s words. Her last sentence was still on repeat in Monique’s mind. Isla had never killed before, which meant she wasn’t some cold-blooded killer.
She was just crazy. And spoiled and entitled. Most importantly, she probably wasn’t a good shot. If Monique handled this correctly, she might be able to disarm the woman without getting hurt. At this point, that was her only hope.
“Feel honored,” Isla drawled. “That you get to be my first kill.”
Shit! She had to act now. A bang sounded from the door below them just as Monique spun around to face Isla. Distracted by the sound, Isla's gaze moved toward the door. Her gun, following the movement of her body, was now pointing away from Monique.
Monique pulled the trigger, aiming for Isla's leg, not wanting to kill Frederico’s daughter. Click. Click. Out of bullets! No. She’d counted. She couldn’t be out of bullets. Damn it! That may have been her only chance. Her gaze met Isla’s just as Isla realized what Monique had tried to do.
The woman’s face contorted in rage. Monique raced toward her, knowing her only chance of survival now was to fight. Isla fired. Monique winced, still moving forward, waiting for the pain to come.
Instead, she heard the echoing ping of the bullet striking the step a few paces behind her. Before Isla could fire again, Monique barreled into her, knocking her to the ground. Her body collided with Isla’s, the impact sending them both crashing onto the hard concrete floor.
Monique’s jammed gun slipped from her grip as they hit the ground. The weapon skittered across the floor and out of reach. But Isla was still clutching her weapon tightly. Panic surged through Monique as she saw Isla struggling to raise the gun, trying to aim at her.
Monique leaned to the side, dodging the barrel of the weapon as it waved dangerously close to her face. Without hesitating, she swung, her fist smashing into Isla’s face with all the force she could muster.
The punch caused Isla’s head to snap to the side with a sharp crack. Isla groaned, but she was still gripping her gun tightly. Desperate, Monique threw another punch, this one aimed directly at Isla’s jaw.
Blood spurted from Isla’s mouth as the blow connected, her body jerking beneath Monique. But Isla wasn’t giving up. With her free hand, Isla clawed at Monique’s arm, her nails digging deep into Monique’s skin as she struggled to bring the gun back around.
Monique hissed in pain but refused to let up. She couldn’t afford to. One wrong move, one moment of hesitation, and Isla would shoot her. Monique ducked her head low, avoiding the barrel of the gun again as Isla twisted beneath her.
She raised her arm, sending another punch into Isla’s face. This time, Isla yelped, her grip faltering on the weapon as the gun slipped from her fingers. The gun clattered to the floor, but Isla wasn’t done.
Fueled by rage and desperation, Isla screamed and reached for Monique’s hair, yanking hard and pulling Monique’s head back. Though her scalp burned from the force, she wasn’t about to let Isla get the upper hand. She couldn’t.
Miconi would just have to be mad at her because it was past time she taught his daughter a lesson. Ignoring the pain, Monique jerked her head hard, freeing her hair from Isla’s grasp, pretty sure she’d left some behind in the woman’s hand.
She brought her fist down hard on Isla’s chest. Isla gasped, the air rushing out of her lungs. Anger fueled Monique as she continued to punch at Isla, striking her face repeatedly. All the rage she’d been holding in caught up with her.
And there was a lot of anger in her. Her anger over the old don trying to use her against Raz. Her anger over her kidnapping plan going south. She’d really wanted to kidnap Raz. Her anger over her expensive-ass dress being torn and Isla ripping out strands of her hair.
All that anger coursed through her as she went to work on Isla, beating the woman until her knuckles began to slide against the woman's face. Monique blinked, snapping out of her anger-induced haze to find blood coating her hands and Isla’s face.
Isla groaned in agony, her body now limp underneath Monique. Panting, Monique pushed herself to her feet, unable to believe she’d beat this woman until blood was everywhere. Isla’s eye was already swollen shut.
Her face was so bruised that Monique barely recognized her. She truly hadn’t meant to do all of that. She swallowed as she stared down at Frederico’s daughter. Raz had beat the father. Monique beat up the daughter.
What the hell was wrong with her and her man? Then again, Monique’s life had been in danger. Isla had left her no choice. A noise sounded at the stairwell door Leo had gone through. Monique scrambled to find Isla’s gun.
She grabbed it, fingers coated with blood, and pointed it at the stairwell door as it opened. Please be Leo. Please be Leo. But the person who stepped forward wasn’t Leo. Monique’s eyes widened.
“Biiitchhh,” Toya drawled. “Did you do that?” she asked, staring at Isla, who was too hurt to move.
Toya! Was she seeing things, or was her friend really there? Tears filled Monique’s eyes as she stared at her bestie. Suddenly, everything she’d been through tonight came crashing down on her.
“Don’t cry,” Toya told her, stepping into the hallway. “I’m sure she deserved it, whoever that hoe is. Look who we rescued from getting jumped in the hallway.”
Resisting the urge to wipe her eyes with her bloody hands, Monique sniffled and leaned to the side as Toya stepped more into the hallway. Meka was with her also, and together, they were helping a battered Leo stay upright. Both of her friends had guns, and Toya’s dress was torn and had blood stains on it.
“Is he okay?” Monique asked.
Meka nodded. “Yeah. He’s fine. His leg is hurt, though.”
“He’d been holding his own out there,” Toya praised, staring at Leo, who seemed to stand a bit taller at her words. “I see why he’s the don’s right-hand man. If it hadn’t been so many on him, he wouldn’t have needed us to shoot a few at all.”
Monique didn’t miss the slight uptick of Leo’s lips. Even as hurt as he was, he was still smiling. Yeah, there was something brewing there. She’d figure that situation out later. There was something else they needed to do first. Monique stared at her friends and Leo.
“I’m glad you all are safe. But it’s time to go find my don. I’m ready for this gala event to be over.”
She’d never wanted a party to end as much as she wanted this one to. It was time for her to find Raz. She was ready to go home with her don.