40
Alessio
I shove off the wall in what used to be Liv’s room, still gripping the damn diamond she threw back at me.
My knuckles are white, and I feel the rage pulsing under my skin.
I let her get too damn close, and now this is what I’m left with.
Everything’s exactly where she left it, clothes on the bed, all her random shit still lying around.
She didn’t take a damn thing except her phone and whatever she was wearing.
Hell, she even hurled the ten grand I offered her right back at me like I’m the asshole here.
But none of that compares to the real kick in the dick.
Liv is working as an informant, a fucking rat.
Or maybe it’s deeper than that.
Maybe this is about her mom, and Liv’s out for revenge, and Ezra’s her way in.
She knew I went to Detroit.
So why the fuck else would Franco text Ezra while we were there?
And then, what a coincidence that Ezra happens to show up at my casino and runs into her?
The timing’s too fucking perfect.
Now I get why she was poking around.
My head’s spinning so hard I feel like I might snap any second.
And now all I can think about is whether she played me or if I let her.
“Hey, man,” Kota says from the doorway like he’s afraid to step inside.
He’s been trying to calm Paola down.
She’s pretty rattled after hearing what went down.
Guess Liv did a real good job worming her way into everyone’s hearts.
I don’t even bother hiding my irritation.
“What?” I snap.
“This might be nothing,” Kota starts, scratching the back of his neck, “but Raf called.” Raf, my longtime bookie, keeps tabs on all the fights at Satana’s .
“Someone tried to bump your opponent last night. Wanted to fight you themselves. Any clue who that’d be?”
I grind my teeth so hard that it makes my jaw ache.
“Ezra,” I spit.
“Bastard put half a million on himself, thinking he’d win. But he couldn’t make it in time, so Louie fought instead. Ezra lost every damn cent on that bet and took it out on Raf. Threatened him that if he didn’t refund him, there’d be hell to pay,” Kota tells me.
“There’s no fucking refunds on bets. Besides, that prick doesn’t stand a chance against me,” I grit out.
Kota nods.
“Yeah, well, Raf kicked him out and banned him from coming back.”
“Good.” My blood’s already boiling and hearing this shit doesn’t help.
I tighten my grip on the diamond, the edges digging into my palm.
Liv’s gone, Ezra’s pulling bullshit, and I’ve got a million fucking questions and no answers.
I yank my phone from my pocket and shoot Seb a text.
Me: Pull everything you can on Ezra.
Background, connections, the works.
He calls me before I lock the screen, so I pick up, skipping hello.
“What do you got?”
Seb’s breathing hard, and that alone sets me on edge.
He starts rattling off details about the last message between Franco and Ezra.
Apparently, Franco told Ezra I was at his shitty little sex dungeon in Detroit.
But instead of backing Franco up, Ezra fucking killed him.
Seb tracked Ezra’s phone and pinpointed the towers he used.
All tech shit that mostly goes over my head, but if Seb says it’s solid, I believe him .
Then he drops a damn bomb on me: Franco and Ezra are brothers.
Tito’s illegitimate sons, which is why they’ve got different last names.
Ever since I bought out their father’s failing casino, those pricks have been gunning to take me down.
“Anything else?” I grind out, already bracing for the worst.
Seb pauses, and I can practically hear him trying to figure out how to say what’s coming next.
“Yeah,” he finally says.
“Last night, Morte Penitentiary called Ezra’s burner. All the calls are recorded, and I managed to hack into their system and listen to them.” He takes a breath, then spits it out.
“Tito put out a hit on Olivia.”
A flash of rage slams into me so hard I damn near see red.
My hand tightens around the diamond Liv threw at me, and I barely notice it cutting into my skin.
She might’ve betrayed me, but that doesn’t give anyone else the right to lay a fucking finger on her.
If they want her dead, they’ll have to go through me first.
And that’s a death wish for whoever fucking tries.
I should’ve never thrown her out of my house.
But I let my damn weakness get in the way.
Instead of demanding the truth, I kicked her to the curb.
I’m a fucking coward.
I should have stood in front of her, forced her to look me in the eyes, and made her tell me everything.
But I didn’t .
Before I can even end the call with Seb, Liv’s number lights up my screen.
I hang up on him without a word to see what’s come in.
One look at the message, and my stomach twists.
It’s a photo of Liv tied to a chair, head slumped to the side, bruised and bloody.
Then her phone is calling mine.
For one stupid second, I hope it’s her, calling to say she’s okay, that it’s some fucked-up joke.
But it’s Ezra’s smug voice on the other end.
“Don Alessio,” he drawls, dripping sarcasm.
I snap my fingers at Kota like a madman, and somehow, he manages to understand my half-assed hand signals and starts tapping on his phone.
“Always a pleasure dealing with scum like you. Thought you’d appreciate a heads-up. If you want your little whore alive, I want five million in cash, delivered to the location I just dropped to your phone in one hour, alone, or the rat bitch dies.”
He hangs up before I can open my mouth to unload on him.
I’m left there, phone pressed to my ear, and my chest so tight it feels like it might cave in.
“Seb’s tracking her number now,” Kota tells me.
I storm out of Liv’s room, well, what used to be her room, and head for the safe in my office.
I yank the door open and stuff stacks of cash into a duffel bag.
Kota doesn’t need me to say a damn thing.
He’s right there beside me, locked and loaded.
“You’re not going alone,” he says.
I scowl.
“Didn’t fucking plan to.”
He huffs, a ghost of a grin on his lips.
“Good.”
We arm up and pile into my bulletproof Navigator, in case shit goes sideways.
I punch in the address Ezra sent me.
It’s some abandoned warehouse on the other side of town.
My phone pings with another message, and the second I see it’s a video, my blood goes ice-fucking-cold.
I tap the screen, and there’s Liv, tied to a chair.
I can’t see much of the background, but I see enough to know it’s the Grotto .
Her cheek is swollen, her lip is split, and the ropes around her wrists are so tight they’ve rubbed the skin raw.
Her eyes are closed, but I can see her chest rise and fall.
She’s still breathing.
Liv flinches when some asshole off-screen grabs her jaw, forcing her head up.
I can’t see his face, but I know it’s Ezra.
He’s saying something, but I can’t hear a damn word, my ragged heartbeat drowns it all out.
I don’t give a shit anyway; he’s a dead man walking.
My vision goes dark around the edges, fury twisting in my gut.
A feral growl tears from my throat that barely sounds human.
Kota’s watching me, seeing I’m about to lose it.
“Call for backup,” I bite out.
He’s on his phone in a second.
I yank the wheel hard, and the Navigator screeches as we tear out of the lot like the hounds of hell are on our heels.
Because if Ezra wants a war, he’s about to fucking get one.