Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Rush
My chin snaps up as I stare at my brother.
I know what he’s talking about. I saw them once. I thought the chair she’d been sitting in had caused them. Temporary indents in her skin.
But then some of Emma’s comments come back to me. How she wanted tattoos like Killian’s.
I drop down on my haunches but not because I want to be on Gigi’s level, but because I’m not sure I can stand.
Gigi’s eyes meet mine, big and brown and so full of pain, it almost knocks the wind out of me.
And though the evidence has been mounting with every minute that passes, I know the truth before she’s even said a word.
That motherfucker put his hands on sweet little Emma and that was what spurred my beautifully submissive woman into action.
I am going to kill him.
It’s not a question, and I’m not exaggerating. I actually mean that I’m going to watch the life leave his eyes and then, Killian will help me make the body disappear.
I catch my brother’s gaze, and I know we’re thinking the same thing.
I also know that Killian has understood the entire situation long before I did. It’s why he’s been so protective and so insistent that we protect Emma and Gigi at all costs.
Our father was an abusive fuck, and you don’t forget that.
I probably would have seen this whole fucking thing sooner if I hadn’t been so focused on competing with my brothers, of being the man who turned New York into a success.
I’ve been so stupid, focusing on all the wrong things. “It’s all right, love. You can tell us.”
She shakes her head, her watery eyes so full of pain, I fucking ache. “I’m too ashamed.”
I drop my knees onto the floor, and pull her into my arms, holding her tightly. She wraps herself around me, the rapid thrumming of her heart beating against mine.
Killian moves a little closer. “He hit you a lot?”
She nods into my shoulder. My eyes slide closed. “Emma?”
“No. Not before that night…” She draws in a deep breath, her body shuddering.
“Tell us what happened,” Killian softly murmurs. “And remember my promise, Gigi.”
What did my brother promise her? Whatever it was, I hear her shuddering inhale before she finally speaks.
“She was playing in the living room. I had just gone to the kitchen to get her some milk. Vigo was on a call for work…”
She pauses and I hear her swallow. “I heard him start to yell at whoever he was speaking with. His tempers always turned so quick. One minute he’s fine and then…”
“What happened?” I ask, my heartbeat hammering in my chest.
“He kicked one her toys, I think. He was angry. But then she started to cry and he—” She stops again, her fingers curling into my skin, biting through my coat as a jagged moan leaves her lips.
But she can’t stop now. I need to know. I need to know everything so I can make sure he pays.
“What did he do?”
“It was his belt…” she whispers, her voice clogging. “The way she screamed…” And then she breaks down in my arms.
I hold her tighter than I’ve ever held anyone before.
“Gigi,” I murmur into her hair, “I promise you, that he will never get anywhere near either you or Emma again. Never.” I press my cheek to the top of her hair. “Tell me you understand and that you believe me.”
She leans back then, her wide eyes meeting mine. They’re puffy from the crying and red-rimmed. But they are clear enough when she nods. “I understand.”
I stand, pulling her with me.
Gris’s phone rings. He picks it up, listening silently before he hangs up again. “We’re needed in the lobby.”
I look at Killian. By his grim expression, we both know what waits for us downstairs. This is all about to break. “Activate elevator C. Down only.”
Then I start walking Gigi back to her apartment. “Stay with Emma. Lock the door. Take a shower. Put on something comfortable. I’ll be back soon.”
“Do you hate me?” She holds onto me like she’ll drown if she lets go.
How can she think that? “Never.”
“Not for the lies?” Her eyes plead with me.
“No.” I cup her jaw, stroking my hand over her cheek.
“Not for what I let happen?” Her voice trembles and I know, she’s been eating herself up with guilt.
Her eyes look up at mine, the questions filling them, enough to make me pause. I lean down and kiss her lips. “I’m proud of you for being so strong.” And then I softly push her toward her door.
The important part is that she and Emma are safe, tucked in their apartment on the top floor of my secure building.
She goes, stopping in the doorway to watch my retreat down the hall.
The elevator doors slide open and both my brothers step in. I turn back, giving her a small smile, before I go any further. “In your apartment. Lock the door. I want to see it.”
She gives a single nod and then does as I command. I listen until the lock clicks.
And then I turn back to the elevator. The moment I step inside, Gris removes his hand, the doors sliding closed.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Gris spits into the small space. “Have either of you seen Emma’s back? How bad is it?”
“It’s bad,” Killian confirms.
“How long have you known?” I ask, scrubbing my hands over my face.
“I’ve suspected for a few days. I saw the marks a week ago, but the other night you mentioned Vigo’s name and Emma completely shut down.”
How did I fucking miss that? It takes everything in me not to punch the elevator wall.
“Plan?” Killian asks.
I press the button for the lobby. “Vigo’s downstairs?”
“That’s right,” Gris answers. “Demanding that you give him back his wife before he burns the building to the ground.
“And the cameras are rolling?”
“Yep.” Killian cracks his knuckles.
I press the button for the floor above the lobby. “That’s where you’re getting off Killian.”
“You’re not bringing Killian to the lobby with us?” Gris asks, shifting as he grimaces.
“No. I’m going to take my beating like the little brother I am.” It’s going to take every ounce of my self-control not to beat him to death right here, right now. But I’m going to let him kick the shit out of me.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Gris asks, but I turn to Killian. He knows…
“It means,” I crack my knuckles. “That I’m about to set New York’s underworld on fire and dance on its grave while I watch it burn.” My teeth grit together. “I’m going to rain chaos down on this city, and I won’t stop until Gigi and Emma are completely safe.”
“Rush,” Gris warns.
But Killian gives a cold laugh. “Don’t worry, Gris. He’ll rebuild it. And in our image.”
“I’m not God,” I snort. “But yes. It will be to our advantage by the time I’m done.”
The elevator stops and Killian slips out. “Good luck,” he rumbles before I hit the button to close the door again.
“The best and worst of us,” Gris repeats his line from earlier. I ignore him.
The elevator starts down again, and I take a breath, filling my lungs with calming air. The elevator stops and the doors slide open. The second they crack, I hear the yelling.
The doors open and the sight that greets me is almost impressive.
Vigo is having a first-rate tantrum in my lobby.
Most people have cleared out of the space, only the two men he came with are still standing in the middle of the marble floors.
Several of the security guards stand around the edges, looking leery, and a bit abused.
My receptionists are huddled behind their desk, holding each other.
Vigo spins to me, spitting fury. But I look at the women first. “Leave, ladies. Your day is done.”
They scurry toward the employee door in the back, not needing to be told twice.
I look at Vigo then, my arms crossing over my chest. “This is your chance.”
“My chance to kick your fucking ass and take my woman back,” he roars stepping right up into my face. I don’t flinch.
“Gigi—”
“Her name is fucking Giulia.” He pokes me hard in the ribs. “And she is my wife.”
“Didn’t your wife divorce you?” I know I’m poking his wound. He takes the bait, swinging at my face and hitting my already-broken nose. Blood spurts from my nostrils as pain explodes in my skull. I’m going to need surgery after this.
I stumble back, but catch myself, Gris’s hand coming to my shoulder blades to steady me. “One last time, Vigo. This is your chance to walk away, or you will leave me no choice.”
“There is no choice,” he yells as he runs at me again, hitting me in the gut with his clenched fist.
All I need to think about is him using this kind of force on Gigi or Emma and I hold the line, barely reacting as he hits me again and again.
I am not a man who lets the moment seize me. He aims for my face, and this time I duck it, but I don’t hit back. When this video makes it around to every mob boss in the city, they will know that Vigo signed his own death warrant.
“Hit me,” he roars. “Fight me like a man.”
“Is that what you like? People who fight back?” I sneer through the blood. “Could have fooled me.”
He snarls, coming at me again, but he’s tired, slow, and I easily sidestep him.
His goons rush toward me, like they plan on helping.
“Don’t,” I spit at them, even as Vigo hits the wall, unable to stop his momentum. “Stand down now.”
They both stop.
Vigo is crumpled against the wall. Apparently kicking the shit out of me has worn him out. I grab him by the collar, pulling him up and move him toward the doors. I will not hit him now, my right to kill him will not be sullied with a cheap blow.
He tries to fight my grip, but I wrap my other hand around his throat, partially cutting off his air. Then I lean down, spitting in his ear. “You’ve done it now, Vigo,” I say nice and quiet.
He gurgles as I march him to the door.
Killian is right. He’s a snake. And setting him free now will give him time to recoil, prepare his strike.
But this is a public space, I can’t go killing a man on camera. I’ve got both worlds to consider. The light and the dark.
So, I lift my head, barking at one of the guards, “Open the door.”
The guard’s got a black eye, and his arm dangles at his side like it’s broken, but he does as I command.
As soon as the door is open, I toss Vigo out. He lands in a heap on the sidewalk, then I look at the two men who came with him. “Out. And tell the Sinclair Brothers they’ll be hearing from me.”
The two men scurry to obey.
It’s telling that none of the Sinclairs came with their uncle today. It means I’m liable to have their support.
Then again, I’m going to do my damnedest to kill their uncle.
Gris is waiting for me next to the elevator. “You all right?”
“Fine,” I say, as I pull out my phone to enable the elevator to bring us back upstairs. “Send out a company message that the building is shut down for the rest of the day.”
Am I starting a war? Maybe.
But all of New York will come to heel. This is my game now.