Chapter 35
Sitting through a meal with my wife and girl and son was a whole new kind of hell. Nikita showed Ellie so much disrespect it made my blood boil. Something she will pay for, but hurting the woman has to be done differently. I can’t physically touch her, and she knows it. Maybe cutting off her latest boy toys will be a lesson she listens to.
When Kai called to say Oblivion was on fire, I made a quick exit to rush to the scene.
I snap out of my thoughts. “Anyone inside?” I glare up at one of my most lucrative clubs, still ablaze while firefighters tackle it and police swarm the outskirts.
Kai lifts his shoulder. “Couple of dancers and clients in the private rooms. Security got them out.” He sighs heavily. “They didn’t come back out yet.”
I nod solemnly.
“You get hold of Rocco?”
He shakes his head, ducking it low as irritation floods my veins at where my little brother probably is, all while I’m left to deal with this shit. “He’s safe.” Kai tacks on, causing guilt to lance through me. Shit, I never even considered that he might not be, but I know my little brother can look after himself.
“You got security footage?” Kai’s jaw tightens, and whatever he’s about to say will just piss me off more.
“From first glance, it’s all been wiped.”
I throw my head back on a sardonic laugh. Of course it fucking has. Someone is screwing with us. Taking a deep breath, I tug my phone from my jacket pocket and press call.
“You’re speaking to Owen. Rafael Marino, I see your club is up in flames.” My spine straightens at the notion he already knows the predicament I’m in. His chuckle is husky. Then I hear him moving around and a door shutting while my mind whirls about getting the full lowdown on who Owen Stevens and his company STORM Enterprise are.
“You need my help.” I can sense his smile through the damn phone, and it causes my blood to curdle and my body tense with irritation.
“I need some answers.”
“Then you came to the right man.”
I don’t know what fucking time it is when I finally arrive home, but it’s daylight. Too late for bed, yet too early to start the day.
Instead, I stride upstairs, shocked when my old bedroom door opens and Nikita leans against the doorframe. Her barely covered tits heave over the top of a red lace playsuit, and I clench my teeth so goddamn hard it’s a wonder they don’t shatter.
I don’t have time for this shit.
What I want is a shower to wash away the smell of smoke from my body and to slide into bed with my little doll, but it’s clear she has other plans for me. Plans I don’t intend on reciprocating.
In three strides, I have her backing into the bedroom, and the way in which her face encompasses a sultry smile tells me she doesn’t realize the danger she’s in or she doesn’t care. Each outcome was deadly for her.
My tattooed hand snaps out, gripping her throat until her eyes bulge. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re still doing in my house, Nikita. But you’re not fucking welcome.”
She licks her lips, the red lipstick, perfected makeup, and styled hair an indicator she’s been awake a while, no doubt stalking the halls waiting for me.
“I-I—” I cut her off with my grip and a shake of my head.
“If you ever fucking disrespect my girl like that again, I’ll cut you so fucking bad no man would look twice at you.” That grabs her attention, judging by the whimper that clogs beneath my touch. She always was so fucking vain and desperate to be a socialite.
“Nod your head. Tell me you understand.”
Her head tilts slightly, but it’s enough for me to know I have her understanding.
Releasing her throat, I step back, delighting in the way her hand rushes to her neck as she sucks in sharp, desperate breaths of air.
I spin on my heel, done with her and this conversation, ready for the day to be over, even though it’s only just begun.
“I’ll sign over custody of Oliver.” My body freezes on her words. This is something I’ve wanted so many times—her out of his life once and for all, but she’s used him as a weapon. She loves the fact she’s married and has a son with a Mafia heir, the notoriety to it meaning too much to her to give him up. “But I want one thing from you first.”
Finally, I turn to face her, and her face breaks out into a sly smile.
Like I didn’t just have my hand wrapped around her neck, threatening her demise.
I crack my neck from side to side, my temper wearing thin. “Name it,” I grit out. Determined to do anything it takes to give my son the security and love he deserves, even if it means giving in to the bitch.
She drops onto the bed and parts her legs while her pupils blaze with triumph, and as the words “Here’s what I want” slip from her lips, I can’t help but feel like I’m doing a deal with the devil himself.