CHAPTER 14 - RED
CHAPTER
Red
ICUT THE CALL on my mobile. I made sure to withhold my number when I dialed. I honored the word I gave to Emiliano Galvatore, but he’s not getting my personal mobile number. If he wants to reach me from now on, he can do so via the usual channels at the Scorpio Lounge.
Not that I’ll be there for a while.
Especially tonight.
Walking back into the property’s sitting room, I find Oscar and Cal waiting expectantly. “As promised, I let Galvatore know that we have Arianna and Matteo is still alive.”
“And he confirmed what I said?”
I nod. “Yes. Maria did not go there, so Matteo was bluffing about her being taken.”
Oscar shakes his head. “What’s Galvatore going to do now?”
I stare at my freshly poured whiskey. “I didn’t ask.
I don’t give a flying fuck what he does about questioning Matteo, but if he’s got any sense, he’ll ask whatever he needs quickly because his window to do so is small.
I won’t waste time finishing what I’ve started. Matteo Galvatore will die. And soon.”
“Everything is good at the Scorpio.” Cal speaks next, his hard eyes alert. “I rang in, and Liam said there’s been no sign of unrest.”
I nod once again. “I doubted Matteo or Luca had the nous to have retaliation scheduled in the event their ‘plan' got disturbed. It was obvious they didn’t expect our arrival, but it’s only a matter of time before something occurs, so they must both die before they get chance.”
“Matteo didn’t look too good when we left him,” Oscar chuckles, his attempt at humor irritating me. I have no humor at the best of times, and none at all right now.
My hand moves to my whiskey glass. I’ve dreamed of nothing else but the moment I got Arianna back, but her unexpected show of raw hatred towards me tonight has cut me to the quick.
I raise my eyes back to my brother and Cal.
I have said nothing about Arianna’s behavior and nor will I. I don’t know how to handle it myself.
“How long will you give Galvatore to speak to his son?”
Swallowing a large mouthful of whiskey, I enjoy the burn in my throat. I need the pain. “Not long, but he won’t remain at 15 Tenor Mansions after tonight. We need to locate Luca Bristoni as well. He’s probably with Matteo.”
“I wish one of us had stayed on to keep watch there.”
I grimace. Not as much as I wish that. Too preoccupied to think of anything but getting Arianna away from the vicinity was a major oversight on my part.
I can’t blame Oscar or Cal for that. They were as wired as I was, plus it was me calling the orders.
Matteo would have made his exit as soon as he’d regained consciousness.
The fucker has gone to ground – no doubt somewhere Luca scouted or Emiliano Galvatore arranged.
I rub my hand across my stiffening jaw, so tense I could break.
Cal mirrors my movement and rubs his hand across his stubbly chin. “While you were upstairs, I put the feelers out. There’s nothing on them as yet.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, desperate to keep my combined temper and fear in check. My brother and Cal are saying all the expected things, however, it’s painfully obvious they are avoiding the one subject I need to know about. Even if I don’t want to...
Not a single word about what they saw in that property has been mentioned. All references to Arianna have been avoided like the plague, and that alone makes the truth appear more likely to be the opposite of what I want.
The deep lacerations on her wrists and ankles and her unwashed, tangled hair show ill-treatment.
But her reaction to me touching her wrist and the fact that she was naked under the blanket when she was carried from the house highlights that my worst fears are likely and more happened to her than being held captive.
Fury sparks along every nerve ending. All I want to do is wrap her in my arms and hold her, ensuring she’s safe, yet I’ve already failed her once.
The fissure across my heart splits further.
“So...” Oscar stands up. “Shall I call one of the second tier over to guard here? We should get back to the Scorpio to make plans for Matteo and...”
I bang my whiskey glass down on the table, cutting Oscar’s words off mid-flow. “I’m going nowhere! That woman upstairs is my wife!”
My eyes glow with rage as I stare at both men. “Will you quit skirting around the issue and tell me the score? How was Arianna found?” The loaded silence that follows is deafening, and the length of time it lasts increases my dread. “Well?”
Oscar fiddles with his hands, cracks his knuckles, then sits back down heavily in the seat.
“It’s not good, bruv,” he says quietly. “Luca Bristoni must have got wind of the alarm being triggered just before we located the correct room because the window was open. He’d obviously left sharpish, as his jacket was on the floor. ..”
I close my eyes and swallow. So, Luca Bristoni had been in the room? “Continue...”
Oscar clears his throat. “As you saw by her wounds, she was cuffed to the bed. By the looks of it, for the whole time... There were fresh bedsheets, but soiled ones on the floor. Lots of them...”
“Just get to the fucking point!” I growl, not wishing to dwell on what “soiled” means. Piss or Luca Bristoni’s semen?
“Arianna was... erm... naked... and the way her ankles were cuffed... well... her legs remained open... There was...”
I stare at my whiskey glass, my rage and devastation suffocating me, but I need to know. I need to know it all... “There was what?” My eyes swivel to Oscar, but he looks away.
“Erm... there... there were both old and fresh bruises on the inside of her thighs... I don’t know for sure whether that means... but... I... Oh, shit, bruv, I’m sorry...”
“If we’d been a few seconds earlier, we’d have caught the bastard.” Cal’s voice is as desperately raw as Oscar’s. “Really sorry, mate.”
That my brother and Cal saw my beautiful Arianna naked, vulnerable and so obviously violated, is the least of what bothers me. What bothers me is that those cunts succeeded in their plan. Bristoni has fucked my wife.
My hands form tight fists. I knew it was likely, but hoped by some stretch of the imagination that I’d be wrong... Now I know I’m not...
No wonder Arianna hates me. I’ve failed her in the worst way possible.
“Fuck!” I jump to my feet, the pain from the bullet only pulled from the flesh of my thigh an hour before, not registering. “I should have been there sooner. I should have fucking been there!”
I see the reflection of my brother and Cal in the large gold-framed overmantel mirror split into a thousand facets as my fist smashes the antique glass.