8. Alek #3
His knife finds her throat with ease and he slices her neck open before she can even begin to scream.
Her gun falls to the floor and her hands reach up to her throat as she sinks to the ground.
Blood pours from her gaping wound, and it’s mere seconds before her eyes go glassy and she’s no longer breathing.
Carmine steps over to me after flipping his blade closed and shoving it back into his belt line.
“You alright?” he asks me.
I huff and sit up, undoing my shirt and reaching into the bulletproof layer I’m wearing, pulling the bullets out of the fabric and tossing them to the floor.
“Just peachy,” I reply.
He grabs my hand and helps me up off the floor.
“I’ll make sure no one else comes in here, they probably heard her gun shots, but I think I can convince them it was outside,” Carmine explains.
I nod and stand up straight. “Got it. I’ll get this cleaned up.”
Carmine leaves the room and I pull my phone out. I make my breath heavy, panting softly for air, and it’s not hard to do, I’m slightly out of breath for real.
“Sir,” I say quickly as Stephan Bianchi answers the phone. “We have a problem.”
“What’s going on, Trevor?” he asks me. “You’re making a risk calling me, anyone could be listening.”
“I know. I wouldn’t be calling you if it was nothing,” I insist. “The grab didn’t go well. Carmine got away…Petra and Raff…” I swallow hard, trying to act as though I care at least a little bit.
“What happened?” Stephan asks, his own voice laced with far more care than my own, but he still sounds almost bored.
“We lost them, Sir,” I tell him.
It’s quiet for a moment. “Understood. What is Carmine doing?” he asks.
“He threatened me, but let me go. He’s back out in the gala, acting as if nothing happened,” I sneer. “Bastard.
“Of course he is, and that’s what I need you to do too until you get back here,” Stephan orders me. “Go back out there and represent my name at the event. I’ll send a couple men to clean up the mess.”
“Got it, Sir,” I say, and after another second I hang up the phone and adjust my suit. I button my suit jacket to cover the holes in my shirt, and brush my fingers along the top of my long hair, settling several strands that are out of place.
I glance at the blood pooling on the floor around both Raff and Petra’s bodies.
I feel absolutely nothing at their deaths. Well, not nothing. Relief perhaps.
Not happiness though. I know their death means nothing to Stephan in the long run. Their deaths in no way make up for the deaths he’s caused.
Not even remotely.
Now that my job is over, I sip at a bourbon neat at the bar and pretend to have no idea where Petra went. No one really asks where Raff is, but Raymond is especially interested in Petra. He seems disappointed that he can’t find her. Poor bastard doesn’t know he never will.
I glance at Tommaso from across the room, and his gaze his dark. I wonder if Carmine has told him what happened yet. I’m not sure, but I know that something is going on in his head. Perhaps he’s thinking about the last time we were together…
I try not to think about it myself, but all I can conjure up when I see his stocky build is the feeling of my own body pressed against it. Sandwiching him between myself and that brick wall…
I swallow thickly and look away from him. It’s wrong for me to be thinking about him like this, after all the guilt…all the pain… I should be focusing on the tasks at hand. Getting back at the Bianchi family, not getting tangled up with Tommaso Dresvanni in bed.
Still, I remember how hard my heart was beating in my chest as we kissed. How hot my body was. How I felt freer than I have in years…
“Well, hello there, handsome,” a man about a foot taller than me says as he steps over and leans against the bar.
I recognize him as Lucas Calver. It’s surprising that they’re here, the Calvers, after their situation with the Fiorettis and Carmine.
How they were practically beat down and left to dust.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” I tell him casually. “I wouldn’t think you would want to show your face.”
He chuckles and leans in closer. “To see you? Well, I’d do just about anything.”
I eye him. “Are you flirting with me?” I ask him point blank. “Because, I’ll tell you right now. Not fucking interested.”
He scoffs and taps on the bar to get a refill of whatever was in his glass. “Please. I know your reputation,” he whispers.
“What’s that?” I say and tilt my head to the side.
“You’ll do anything with a hole,” he says simply.
I raise my brow. “What does that say about you then?” I ask him.
His face flushes. “Alright… I’m not here just for that,” he admits.
I roll my eyes and look away from him. Tommaso is looking at us, and his expression is even darker. Hungrier. Like he wants to be the one standing so close to me.
I step even closer to Lucas as I’m looking at Tommaso. Jealousy. It’s ridiculous. Yet, I find that I want him to feel even more of it. I like the possessive look on his face.
“What is it you want?” I ask Lucas. “If not to fuck me?” Our noses are almost touching.
Lucas’ eyes flicker with disgust and he leans away from me. “I was just pretending, trying to get under your skin. I’m not a fucking fag,” he mumbles and straightens his jacket.
I shrug and take a sip of my drink. “What then?”
“We want to make a deal,” he tells me. “With Stephan.”
I hum slowly. “A deal?”
“You Bianchis want the Dresvannis gone—we do too,” he says. “We may not have as many men, but we got a new deal of arms recently. We can help when the war gets going.”
I eye Lucas slowly. “I’ll talk to him about it,” I whisper. “But…your reputation isn’t exactly one of a winner right now, Calver.”
“You think I don’t know that? Fuck those Dresvannis. We’ll do anything you want to get back at them. Just tell Stephan. If he doesn’t want our help, we’ll back off.”
I suck on my teeth lightly and then nod my head. “Alright,” I say slowly. “Like I said, I’ll talk to him about it. Just don’t get your hopes up.”
When I look away from Lucas to where Tommaso was standing before, he’s gone.