Chapter 57 Kingston
Kingston
Voices echo through the house and down to my office as I finish typing an email. It’s going to be sent to a few choice cartels who will be participating in Burlone’s tournament with me, and if things go according to plan, it’ll help solidify my strategy.
“Wait here,” D murmurs from the hallway before popping his head around the doorframe in my office.
“Hey. You have a visitor.” His voice is cryptic, piquing my curiosity as I look up.
“Who?”
“Dex.” My eyes open wide, showing him my absolute surprise as he continues, “I think you need to hear what he has to say. He also gave me this.”
Stepping forward, D hands me a folded piece of paper.
What the hell?
“Where did you get this?” I ask in disbelief. Regina’s swirling cursive is written across the front, and the sight puts all my senses on high alert.
“I told you; Dex gave it to me. He reached out and asked if we could meet.”
“And you went?”
He has the decency to look sheepish. “Yeah, I went. I didn’t want to stress you out or anything, and I know it was selfish of me to risk my life just to see my long lost brother but––”
“You just couldn’t help yourself,” I finish for him.
“Yeah. And it’s a good thing too.” Dropping his chin, he motions to the letter. “Read it. Then you can decide what you want to do with Burlone’s right-hand man.”
“Is that how we’re classifying him? Or should we address the fact that he’s your brother?”
With a sigh, he nods. “And my brother.”
Satisfied, I unfold the cream piece of paper and start reading. My breath gets caught in my throat as I scan the message a dozen times, confusion knotting my stomach.
Hey King,
It’s me. First– I’m so sorry I snuck out.
I screwed up, and that’s on me. But I want you to know I’m okay.
Please don’t shoot Dex! He’s been watching over me.
He’s been taking care of me. He’s been really good to me, King.
He’s not like the other men. I know you’d kill me if I were in front of you right now, but I really care about him, and I’m begging you to give him a chance.
He wants to get BOTH of us out of this situation and has information from Burlone that the tournament is a trap.
I’m sure you’ve already been able to guess that would be the case, but Dex can confirm it.
You can’t go. I don’t care if I’m sold or…
whatever the plans are for me. Burlone is going to kill you if you show up, and I can’t let that happen.
Especially because if I had listened to you, I wouldn’t be in this position in the first place.
Just be careful, okay? And listen to Dex. He’s the only shot we have.
Love you,
Regina
Looking up at my best friend with my heart in my throat, I ask, “Did you read this?”
“Yeah.”
“And do you believe it?”
“It’s her handwriting, King. And let’s be honest, no one could make that girl do something she didn’t want to do. Plus, remember the picture from Burlone’s email? Her expression didn’t make sense. But now—”
“Now that she’s admitted she’s fallen for her captor?
” I shake my head. Count on Regina to screw up so monumentally that I don’t even know what to do with the situation.
However, the image of her from Burlone’s email comes to mind, and I try to analyze it from a different perspective.
My fists tighten at my sides, crumpling the paper into a ball as I realize that my sister did indeed write the letter, and she did indeed fall for him as well.
Shit.
Apparently, I need to Google Stockholm Syndrome. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Reading my expression, Diece grimaces. “Yeah. It makes sense why she wouldn’t look terrified, ya know?”
“Do you think Dex cares about her, as well? Or is he just after her virginity? Or is this just a trap, and you’re playing right into his hands?”
“Give me a little more credit, King,” Diece seethes. “It makes sense why Dex would approach us to save her. Why he’d risk his own life––along with Burlone’s retribution if he ever found out––to keep her safe.”
Tapping my finger against my chin, I look at my right-hand man. “Do you trust him?”
“I don’t know,” D responds gruffly. “He seems genuine, but maybe my judgment is clouded because I’ve wanted him to be a Romano since I was twelve and saw him drive off with his mom.
Maybe it’s just wishful thinking on my part that he’s changed.
Regardless, I think you need to hear him out and decide for yourself. ”
With a wave, I motion for him to invite Dex inside.
Seconds later, a man who looks eerily similar to my best friend steps into my office with his hands tucked into his slacks and his shoulders hunched.
“Take a seat,” I offer, dropping my gaze to the chair adjacent to my desk.
“Thanks.”
“What do you know about me?”
“Enough.”
“Enough to know that I’m pretty fucking good at being able to tell if someone is telling the truth or not?”
He holds my stare. “Yeah. I may have heard that.”
“Then let’s cut the shit, shall we? Did you fuck my sister?”
With a slight flinch at my derogatory term, he murmurs, “Yes.”
Truth.
So, apparently, that rules out the I-want-her-virginity theory.
“Do you care about her the same way she cares about you?”
“Yes.” He’s more confident this time. A hint of pride laces his tone as he admits it.
Truth.
“Am I walking into a trap?”
“Yes.” This time, I see him almost deflate with guilt right before my eyes. And I know the situation is killing him. He doesn’t want me dead, but only because he knows it would gut my sister.
Truth.
“Are you willing to betray the Allegretti family by giving us confidential information that, if linked back to you, will guarantee the skin being flayed from your body by Burlone? And that if we find out the information you give us is faulty, then we’ll do it ourselves?”
He swallows but doesn’t break my gaze, which only emphasizes his resolve. “Yes.”
Truth.
“And what do you want in return?” I almost want to laugh when I realize how similar this conversation is to a hand of poker.
We’re both watching the cards unfold in front of us in little pieces of honesty and trust. And are now about to place our bets on each other, praying it’ll pay out in the end.
“I want your sister to be safe.”
My suspicion spikes, sensing a lie, or half of one anyway.
“Tell me the whole truth, Dex. I told you to cut the shit, remember?”
Bristling, he drops his head back in defeat and stares up at the ceiling.
“You want the whole truth, Kingston? Fine. I want her to be safe. But I also want to keep her for myself because she already owns me. I didn’t ask for it because I’m not stupid enough to think it’s a possibility.
I’m a fucking Allegretti who’ll be dead by the end of the week as soon as my men find out that I’m the traitor who screwed up Burlone’s plans by squealing to the enemy.
” Dragging his hands from the top of his head and down his face, he brings his gaze back to mine.
“So, yeah. If I can ask for one thing, then I want her safe. That’s it. ”
“And you’re not going to ask for your own protection?” I push curiously.
“I’m not na?ve enough to think I’d get it, Kingston. I’ve been in the game long enough to know you never really trust someone who’s always been your enemy, even when they show up at your front door to help you.”
“No. You’re showing up at my front door to help my sister.
You don’t give a shit about me because of what your dad did to you as a kid.
Or didn’t do, in his case. However, you haven’t always been an enemy to the Romano family.
You’re a victim of an old man’s wrong decision, and I think we can both come to an agreement––if you’re willing to prove your loyalty. ”
The man in front of me goes deathly calm, the anxiety from moments before vanishing into thin air as he comprehends what I’m offering.
Little does he know, I’m not doing it for him.
I’m doing it for his brother and for my baby sister.
I’m righting the wrongs that should’ve never happened in the first place.
I just pray I’m not going all-in on the wrong hand.
“And how do I prove my loyalty?”
Scratching the five o’clock shadow on my jaw, I tell him, “We’ll be in touch.”