23. Basilio
Basilio
I knew something was wrong the moment we left the skating rink to get to my bike. I had parked it a few parking spots away from her Jeep when I arrived.
Wynter stiffened, her eyes frantically darting around and she almost dropped her duffle bag.
“What is it?” I demanded, shuffling her to my left so I could easily retrieve my gun with my right hand.
“My car is still here,” she said, looking shaken. “Davina was supposed to take it.”
She rushed to her Jeep and I took her hand into mine, squeezing it in comfort. All the while, I kept alert to ensure nobody blindsided us. There was only one car here, and it was Wynter’s Jeep.
This side was too secluded, and it left you vulnerable if something was to happen. But the exit out of the rink was on this side. Once by her Jeep, Wynter gasped. I followed her gaze to see a sports bra on the ground, on the driver’s side.
“Somebody must have dropped it,” I told her but Wynter shook her head.
“It wasn’t here when I pulled up.” She went to open the door but I stopped her.
“Let me.” I put her behind me and then I opened the door to find a bag on the driver’s seat, wide open and in plain sight. Wynter came around me and grabbed it.
“Oh my God,” she whimpered. “That’s Davina’s bag.” Her face turned my way, and I could see her eyes shimmering with tears she tried to hold back. “Someone took her, Bas.”
I reached for my phone to dial up my connections, while Wynter dug her own out. “I have to call my uncle.”
While she was calling her uncle, I dialed up Angelo and had him hack into surveillance around here.
Her uncle must have answered on the first ring because words poured out of Wynter’s mouth.
“Uncle, Davina is gone. Someone must have taken her. Oh my God. This is bad. Right? This is so bad.”
I couldn’t hear what her uncle said but he must have told her to calm down because Wynter took a deep breath in and then exhaled. “Davina was supposed to take my Jeep. But it’s still here. And her purse is here. That was an hour ago!”
Silence followed, and then Wynter answered. “Northwell Health Ice Center.”
Another stretch of silence. “But-”
“Okay,” she sighed. “I have a friend here with me. So I won’t be alone.” I shook my head at her ‘friend’ label for me. She had to have read my thoughts because she gave me an apologetic look. “Don’t send anyone to fetch me. I’m fine.”
My phone dinged and it was Angelo’s response. He was on it. If Davina means so much to Wynter, then she mattered to me too. I never wanted to see Wynter upset. “No, no,” she protested, shaking her head like her uncle could see her. “I won’t leave my friend’s side. I promise.”
Damn straight, she wouldn’t. Maybe they robbed the wrong person and now their lives are in danger. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
“I’m safe,” she assured him. “My friend won’t leave my side.”
This time I heard a muffled question through her headset. “What friend?”
Wynter blushed crimson and my dick instantly responded. Fucked up, I know. “Ummm, you don’t know him. From college.” Another apologetic look. “You guys go look for Davina. I-I think…”
More muffled questions and silence. Then Wynter continued, “Ummm, no. I don’t think so. Nothing other than what you already know.”
One thing was for certain. Wynter wasn’t a very good liar. I tuned out the rest of their conversation and walked away to send my own message out. I wouldn’t tolerate any direct or indirect threat to Wynter.
I wondered if Liam Brennan knew his woman was in trouble.
From my spot, I watched Wynter nod while on the phone with her uncle and all the while typing a message to Angelo to check the surveillance around the ice rink.
She wore a long white off-the shoulder t-shirt and black leggings.
She seemed to wear those a lot, like it was her signature wardrobe.
Then ending her call, she wiped her nose with the back of her trembling hand. That right there told me how scared she was. It was such a childish gesture. Seeing her upset and tears shine in her eyes was like a stab to my heart. I didn’t fucking like it.
This kind of thing didn’t get my heart racing. I’ve seen much scarier shit in my world and for a fraction of a second, my conscience pointed out how much worse my world would be for her.
Yet, I refused to even consider giving her up. I needed her in my darkness, to keep me sane. To keep me from becoming a monster. Every monster had a weakness and she was mine.
And like a selfish bastard, I shoved any possibility of life without her out of my mind and pulled her into a hug.
“I messaged my guy and he’s checking the surveillance,” I murmured into her hair. “We won’t let anything happen to your friend.”
She sniffed into my chest, and fuck, if that didn’t make my own chest ache. “I should have let Jules kill him,” she mumbled into my chest.
A choked laugh escaped me. “She wanted to kill him?”
She nodded. “Cut his dick off, burn down his house, kill him. She’s a bit unhinged.”
“I’d say.” I rubbed her back, feeling her tense muscles slowly relax. “What will your uncle do?”
She tensed slightly. “He’ll call the police,” she murmured. “He has some people he knows.” Her eyes darted away from me. “I’m worried they won’t do anything until twenty-four hours have gone by. Aren’t those the rules?”
I shook my head. “Not necessarily.” She chewed on her bottom lip nervously. “If his connections in the police can’t help, I have my own connections already working it.”
Wynter’s face lit up hopefully. “Really?”
I nodded. “Don’t worry about anything.”
She swallowed, her emotions glittering in her eyes. “Thank you so much, Bas,” she breathed out. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“No need for thanks,” I told her. “Let’s get to my place.”
Her eyes flickered to my bike. “We’re riding that?”
I grinned. “Don’t tell me you’re scared?” I teased, trying to get her mind off things.
“Of course not,” she replied undignified. “I just don’t want to get hurt. I need my legs working perfectly for another ten months or so.” My eyes roamed down her leggings, giving me a perfect view of her curves and shape of her legs.
“Your legs are indeed gorgeous,” I murmured. “I’ll keep them safe, principessa.”
She rolled her eyes. “But is a three-piece-suit the right apparel for a bike ride?” she questioned. “We could take the Jeep,” she suggested.
I shook my head. “Don’t worry about my suit, principessa,” I purred. “Get on the bike. I want to feel those gorgeous legs against mine.”
The truth was that I fucking hated riding my bike in anything but jeans, but I had to leave my car at the warehouse and take the bike in order to get here on time.
Blush colored her cheeks and I had never seen anything so fucking beautiful.
“Fine,” she caved on a sigh.
I swung my leg over the bike seat, then helped her get behind me and handed her a helmet.
She fumbled with it and I helped her put it on, her blonde curls peeking underneath it.
Once I was satisfied it was secured, I put my own gear on and started the bike.
Her hands instantly came around my waist, holding on tight.
It felt good having her body pressed hard against mine.
I took the long way to my city home, and with each street behind us, I felt her body relaxing into me. Her slim fingers slid into the loop of my pants and my heart did this weird boom-thump against my ribs. It only did it around her.
It was at that very moment I realized… That the day she landed in my arms was the day I actually started living. She restarted my heart and I’d never let her go.
* * *
I watched Wynter drift through my living room, her slim fingers trailing the surface of the furniture. Every so often she’d stop and study a picture. I didn’t have many and whatever few I had were there because Emory made them and hung them up.
“Priest looks nothing like you,” she observed, throwing me a glance over her shoulder. “Though he seems slightly… ummm… brutal, like you. But the other one looks like you.”
“Dante. He’s Priest’s brother.”
“Yes, Dante.” She moved to the next one. The only one with Dante, Emory, Priest, and I together. “Does your sister live in New York?”
I knew she was just trying to keep her mind off things, but I tensed nonetheless. She didn’t notice it because her attention was on the photograph. We kept a tight lid on Emory’s location and that she ran Las Vegas, fearing if people knew it was a woman, they’d find Vegas an easy target.
“No, not in New York,” I ended up answering.
If Wynter noticed I avoided answering her, she didn’t lead on. “I guess she kind of looks like you. With her dark hair and dark eyes.”
That was pretty much where our resemblance ended. I looked like our father. She looked like our mother.
“Who do you resemble?” I asked.
She shrugged her slim shoulders, her curls bouncing down her back. “My mom and my grandmother.”
A heavy sigh left her and I stood up, coming behind her.
“Everything will be fine.”
She turned around and pressed her face against my chest. “Everything has gotten out of hand,” she murmured against my heart.
I took her chin and lifted her face to mine. My gaze found hers and I pressed my forehead against hers. I opened my mouth to tell her I’d fix it all, but my phone rang.
I kissed the tip of her nose and went back to the couch where I left my phone.
It was Dante. “Yeah,” I answered.
“You won’t fucking believe this shit,” he hissed and I instantly tensed.
“Speak.”
“Gio put a hit on Liam’s woman.” My eyes instinctively shot to Wynter. If she heard this, she’d be sure to fucking leave. “It was capture or kill. As long as Brennan no longer had her.”
The anger was so strong, I had to choke it down or risk scaring the living daylights out of Wynter. She threw me a hesitant look, probably sensing the fury. It burned my throat, my chest, my fucking lungs.
“How do you know?” I asked, reining in the anger in my voice.
“Priest hacked into Garrett’s computer. Apparently, the guy likes to keep notes on his illegal dealings and had all his plans and instructions from Gio recorded. Fucking moron.”
“Have you sent our men after her?”
“I have, but Liam’s men beat us to it.” Fuck, if he learned Father’s connection to her kidnapping, we’d have a fucking war. “We have to do something,” he growled.
I had to overthrow my father. Or have him killed. Anything before he threw us into fucking chaos. Even more terrifying was that Wynter was with Davina. If I hadn’t made plans, the fucker could have taken Wynter too.
“Otherwise, we’ll all be dead. Brennan has good connections and we don’t need their attention,” Dante continued.
Fuck, didn’t I know it. We didn’t need to fuck with Cassio King and his gang.
The old fuckers were married and settled.
I’d like to keep them focused on their families rather than looking our way.
It was our turn to rule and our reach through the Syndicate covered the entire world.
Wynter’s phone started vibrating and she jumped, then rushed to it, answering on the first ring. I watched her face and saw relief wash over her expression.
“Yes, we’ll have to deal with it,” I acknowledged Dante’s insinuation.
“Come to Chicago,” he grumbled. “Let’s make a plan and execute it.”
“I have Wynter with me.”
“Bring her along,” he reasoned. “He already knows you have a woman and he’s curious. She won’t be safe from him either. Assuming he hasn’t already dug up every piece of information on her.”
He was right. Albeit, Wynter’s background wouldn’t divulge anything to him. Her life was simple compared to ours.
“We’ll come together.” But first I’d marry her. “I’ll call you later.”