CHAPTER 89 - RED
CHAPTER
Red
I COULD SHOOT the locks off this door, but even in this desperate state, I can’t risk the cops on my back. Despite my connections, it’s too big of an incident to play down, and nothing can slow my search.
Pounding my fist on the securely closed and deserted Bristoni headquarters, I turn around and stride back to the van, not bothering to stow my gun under the seat.
“The place is definitely empty. There are no lights on anywhere,” Oscar says, starting the van.
No, there wasn’t, which is a fucking rarity. The jewelry factory is Bristoni’s core base and has been since time immemorial. In all my years of knowing those slimy bastards, there hasn’t been one occasion when the place showed no sign of life. “We’ll go to his fucking house instead!”
It’s unlikely Edoardo Bristoni will be so stupid to hold his business partner’s daughter and ex daughter-in-law captive in his own property. That’s unless Galvatore himself is in on this latest stunt. Either way, I’ll torture Arianna’s true location out of him.
“There’s no point in going to Bristoni’s.”
“What?” Twisting around, I glare at Del. “Why the hell would you say that when you know I want my fucking wife back!”
To my horror, I realize I’m close to losing it. Tears of anger, frustration and screaming raw fear like never before swamp me.
“Because of this ...” Del shoves his phone in my face.
Blinking away the threat of what’s lurking in my eyes to expose the new weakness I can’t afford to show, I stare at the screen .
‘Tributes roll in for Edoardo Bristoni, (68), found dead by his wife this morning - 17 November.
Emergency services attending the scene ruled out foul play, attributing the unexpected death to suicide.
This is not altogether surprising to those close to Mr Bristoni. Sources said, “Edoardo has struggled immensely since the death of his eldest son, Roberto, earlier this month.”
Edoardo Briston’s well-established and renowned jewelry business has temporarily closed to allow the family to make sense of this second tragedy...’
“It’s a blag.” Liam reads the article over my shoulder. “Another bullshit ploy to throw us off the scent.”
Del looks as shocked by the news as I am. “The Bristonis wouldn’t shut up shop because of us being on their tail! It must be true, therefore I think we should return to the Scorpio Lounge and regroup.”
I put my head in my hands, my rage making itself known via my trembling fingers. Is it true or not? Is Bristoni dead or is Liam right?
Fuck, I can’t think! For the first time in my life, my pain over Arianna’s disappearance and what might be happening to her renders me incapable.
“Drive to the Scorpio Lounge,” Del instructs Oscar, taking charge because he knows I can’t right now.
Oscar glances at me for confirmation. “Just do it,” I manage to mutter. It’s wasting time, I know it is, but I need to think. In the time it will take to return to base, I must decide what to do, and I’d better be able to function and come up with the goods by then.
But regardless of what I concentrate on, all I see within my mind is Arianna being violated by my enemies, which solidifies the working parts of my brain and slices through my insides with an infected, rusty knife.
The blinder here is that unless this news item is fake, whoever has taken Arianna isn’t the enemy I thought responsible.
And if it’s not them, then who the fuck is it?