Chapter 42
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
The rapid staccato beat of Kathleen’s heart made catching her breath difficult as Dominic dragged her out onto the terrace.
Enzo.
Relief hit first, sharp and dizzying. At least he was alive. Her gaze swept over him quickly, cataloging what mattered. No blood. No visible injuries. But the look on his face, the brief, unmistakable flash of shock, told everyone on the terrace exactly what had happened.
Vitale had gained the upper hand.
Enzo recovered fast, schooling his expression back into something neutral and unreadable, but the damage was already done.
“And here you thought you had the advantage,” Vitale said, his tone rich with satisfaction. “Sorry to burst your bubble.” He smiled coldly. “Actually, I’m not sorry at all.”
Enzo’s attention snapped back to her. “Are you okay?”
Kathleen nodded, then immediately winced as her head throbbed.
“Headache?” he asked quietly, his eyes narrowing as he took her in.
“Yes,” she said. “But I’m not hurt otherwise.” She wanted him to know because he was checking her the same way she had checked him.
Vitale chuckled. “Isn’t that touching?” he drawled.
“Did you know these two are lovers, Bianca?” His gaze flicked deliberately between Enzo and Kathleen.
“Why, Enzo didn’t even ask about you the last time we spoke.
I had to remind him you were here. Looks like you’ve been replaced. ” His smile turned sharp.
Bianca’s eyes narrowed to slits as she stared at Enzo, then at Kathleen. The hatred there was sudden and visceral, a flash of something ugly enough to make the fine hairs on Kathleen’s arms rise.
Before anyone could speak, one of Vitale’s security team leaned in and murmured something in his ear.
Kathleen caught the name.
Mendoza.
And the words in arrivo presto, which she thought meant he’d be arriving soon.
Vitale didn’t react outwardly, but his fingers tightened around his glass, knuckles whitening. A sure tell that this wasn’t welcome news.
She turned her head slightly toward Enzo. There was no subtle way to do this. No clever signal. So, she said it aloud and hoped it mattered. “Who’s Mendoza?” she asked. “He’s arriving soon, and that seems to have upset Vitale.”
Enzo’s eyes widened just a fraction. Then he smiled.
“Raúl Mendoza,” he said calmly, almost pleasantly. “He’s a cartel fixer not known to negotiate.” His gaze slid to Vitale. “He shows up when patience is gone. When the top man wants the problem ended.”
Kathleen felt the chill ripple outward as people absorbed that.
“He’s their top enforcer,” Enzo continued. “The man who delivers consequences.” His smile sharpened. “Alessandro, it’s time to sweat.”
“What?” Rocco exploded, springing to his feet. “You told me the head of the cartel was coming. I only deal with equals. I am the top. I demand to speak to their top man, not some hired muscle.”
“Sit down and shut up,” Vitale roared.
One of his men clamped a hand on Rocco’s shoulder.
Matteo stepped onto the terrace, gun in hand.
Another gun appeared instantly. Then another. And another.
Kathleen’s breath caught. Suddenly, there were guns everywhere, raised, trained, vibrating just enough to tell her how close they all were to losing control.
One wrong move.
One wrong word.
And they were all done for.