Chapter 5
GIO
As soon as she looked at me right before she walked out with that prick, everything in me said to follow her.
Killing Carl wasn’t even on my mind in that moment. It was the fact that she was leaving with him, probably going up to his room.
I know what men like Carl do to women. He’s going to hurt her, and I won’t stay on the sidelines while he does. He won’t get to touch her. I don’t care what her reason was for wanting him to win. It’s irrelevant now.
They went up seconds ago, and I’m inside the other elevator riding up to the fifteenth floor, the penthouse. His is the only room up there.
I plan to take out his bodyguard as quietly as possible, then throw him in the janitor’s closet.
Our friends working security told me there’s one up there.
All the cameras have been shut off until after I’ve taken care of him.
By the time the cleaning staff finds Carl tomorrow morning, I’ll be gone, with no trace that I was even here.
Grumbling, I start to sway once the elevator doors part, pretending I’m drunk. As soon as that jerkoff bodyguard sees me, he turns.
“Hey, m-man,” I slur. “C-can you show me…firteen n-nineteen?”
I wobble, my head lolling. He stands there, back against the wall, and completely ignores me.
Thanks for your help, jerkoff.
I groan, my body swinging toward him, a hand in my pocket, getting ready to take out that syringe I’ve been saving for him.
He starts toward me, clenching his jaw.
As soon as I fall into him, he tries to push me off.
“Hey, asshole,” he clips out. “Get the fuck off—”
The needle punctures his thigh before he even realizes it’s happened.
“Have a nice sleep,” I whisper into his ear as he starts to collapse on me. “Can’t say you’ll be waking up, though.”
Quickly, I grab his arms and drag him all the way to the end of the floor. With one hand, I pop open the closet and shove him inside. It’s roomy in there. He fits just fine.
Taking out my nine, the silencer on, I put a bullet between his eyes. He could ID me. Can’t keep him alive. I’ll have Michael send someone to clean this up.
Reaching into his pocket, I take his keycard for Carl’s room and proceed toward it, slipping the weapon back in the holster at my waist and making sure my jacket covers it.
When I’m right beside the door, I lean in, listening for voices, but not hearing any. Fuck, what if he hurt her already? Or drugged her. I wouldn’t put that past him. I can’t wait to get my damn hands on him.
And then it hits me.
She’ll be a witness too. I’m going to have to kill her. Shit. Why the hell did she have to get involved with him? There’s no way I can end her life. I don’t kill women, especially innocent ones. Or hot ones.
Fucking hate how hot she was. And who can forget the way she was staring at me? Like she wanted to stab my eye out with a fork while wanting my hands all over her body.
I especially enjoyed the feisty glimmer in her gaze. Bet she’d hate me once she finds out what kind of man I truly am.
Maybe I can drug her and leave her here long enough to wake up and run like hell when she finds his dead body.
That’s what I’ll have to do. I’ll even follow her every move once she’s gone, maybe send a threatening letter to make sure she doesn’t talk to the cops. I’ll figure it out once I’m in there. I can’t waste any more time thinking about this.
As silently as possible, I scan the keycard, and a small ding sounds off. With a hand on my nine, I gently push the door and let myself into what appears to be a large, dim, empty room. I close the door behind me, eyes scanning the expansive living room.
Not a sight of Carl or Izzy.
The floorboards creak beneath my feet as I take a step forward, and when I catch the sudden faint banging noise from my left, coming from behind a closed door down the hallway, I tighten my grasp on my weapon.
I listen for it again.
Nothing.
With my pulse beating in my ears, I remove my gun and slowly shuffle toward the hallway. My footsteps thud heavily as I inch closer until I’m before the white door that was left ajar.
Shoving it open a little at a time, I glimpse inside, hearing nothing, seeing nothing. But the room is huge and I can’t see everything yet.
I proceed further, keeping my weapon cocked just in case he’s hiding. That’s what rats do, after all. But as soon as I glance to my right, my eyes expand.
“What the…?”
It takes me a second to process that Carl’s tied up to a chair, a gag in his mouth, his head swung down like he’s dead.
And before I can move toward him, something flies right into my face. I duck before it can hit me.
A knife drops right beside my leather dress shoe, nearly stabbing my big toe, the tip of the blade landing sharply in the floor.
Okay. Now I’m pissed.
“Whoever the fuck you are, you’re damn lucky you didn’t mess up the leather.”
I glance throughout the room, staring at each closed door, not sure who is on the other side of it. Hopefully, Izzy left already and isn’t dead somewhere in the suite.
“You either come out and tell me what you did with the redhead that was up here, or I find you and take your head as a souvenir.”
A laugh echoes.
A woman’s laugh.
“What the…”
No. Fucking. Way.
“No need to worry about me.” Her voice is honey, edged sharper than the knife she just threw at me. “I can handle things pretty well on my own.”
I would recognize that voice anywhere. I heard it enough today. Heard her laugh. Saw those eyes stealing glances.
Red.
How am I even more attracted to her right now?
“Here I was worried about you,” I say smoothly. “But it seems as though I should’ve been more worried about Carl.”
“Carl and I are long-lost friends,” she purrs. “We were just having some adult fun when you rudely interrupted us.”
I hear her from behind one of the doors, but I’m too far away to figure out which one. This room is too fucking big. She’s like a ghost, one you hear but can’t see. I’m getting closer, though.
“How about you go and save yourself the trouble?” she challenges.
My laughter pervades through the space, and I march a single step toward Carl, seated right beside the foot of the bed.
“I don’t think I will. I kinda like trouble.”