Chapter 32 Incoming
Chapter thirty-two
Incoming
Marco
What a fucking night. It took every ounce of self-control not to choke Arty to death right there in the hallway of La Rosa. The only saving grace out of the fucked-up situation is that I had the foresight to have Avery tail her.
Does it border on the side of stalker? Maybe.
Except in my line of work, you don’t ignore the niggle of doubt.
It can be the difference between life and death.
Tonight, acting on my intuitive impulses meant I got to my girl before that piece of shit could enact the devious plan he had in motion.
Now, I have what I need stored away safely with other incriminating evidence I’ve collected.
I can’t be hasty. I need to be sure that when I take him down, he can’t legally talk or pay his way out of the consequences. Soon, I remind myself.
When I got home, I got word from my men staked out at Arabella’s apartment that Chiara and Arabella were on the move.
I cursed, thinking I had another situation on my hands, but it turned out they were headed to Bella Donna.
Chiara is supposed to call me if she needs to go anywhere, but my men said Arabella’s driver picked them up.
A quick check in with the boys in the group chat confirmed my assumption that Arabella would be meeting up with Luca, who’s still in town for a little longer.
I directed my men to ensure they get back home safely.
I hired the club’s in-house muscle and installed the top-of-the-line security system myself, so if anything goes wrong, we’re prepared.
Being a Friday, Seb confirmed the club was gearing up for a big crowd, and that Bella Donna was already buzzing with the executive-level after-work crowd.
I told him I’d freshen up and head back down, but he could tell the last thing I wanted to do tonight was socialize, so he told me to just chill at home.
My best friend generally handles the customer relations.
With his good looks and easygoing charm, he is far better at it than me.
We’ve always been a package deal; I’m just the moodier, more guarded one, and tonight, my mood is currently registered black.
With all my admin done, I strip and head into the shower, desperate for the soothing rush of hot water to help uncoil my muscles taut with tension and pent-up rage with nowhere to go.
Since New Year’s Eve, most showers have ended in pleasure, filled with visions of Sophia bent over my decks, her sweet taste on my tongue.
Tonight, flashbacks of the fear swimming in her eyes with her body pinned under Arty’s looming frame fill me with nothing but blinding white-hot anger and the taste of copper in my mouth.
I get out of the shower and wrap a towel around my waist before sitting on the edge of my bed, head bowed, forcing myself to take in some cleansing breaths to talk myself out of the violent thoughts that plague me.
A message notification provides the circuit breaker I need.
Avery:
Incoming.
One word and my world spins on its axis again. My breathing quickens, and my pulse thunders like the hooves of a thousand galloping horses.