29. Dante
29
DANTE
Wednesday, September 18, 9:00 PM
Fucking Victoria was a mistake. That’s what I want to keep telling myself.
I tried to keep up the mantra. And I did—until I jacked myself off to thoughts of her later that same night, the memory of her tight pussy filling my mind.
It was a bad idea.
Give that girl an inch, she’ll take a mile.
Victoria is young, reckless, and insane for marrying me, but that’s what I wanted. I wanted to protect her. I made the moves to save her from Liam when I should’ve just left on the next flight to Italy.
It’s too late to regret that shit now.
I only told her the truth. The ways I wish to ruin that girl are sinister and fucked up. And nothing else in my life is as interesting as my depraved fantasies. I can’t focus on anything long enough to do what I have to.
Which is a huge problem.
Especially since I'm with a bunch of Angelo's men, dealing with the little shithead Angelo believes may have raped his daughter.
I can’t interrogate Ryan properly to get at the truth. Not when my every thought is centered on Victoria.
There's nothing about this so-called mission that appeals to me. However, I know I need to save face and buy some time, so here I am.
And these morons are getting in my way, keeping me from accomplishing anything with any kind of finesse.
“He’s got two seconds to admit to it,” the dumbass next to me mutters. “Or I’m shooting him in the head.”
That’s not a bad idea.
It’d help me out at least.
If the sheriff’s son is murdered, it’ll mean a full-scale investigation to discover who did it. If the sheriff is any good, the investigation will quickly lead his department to Angelo and the Lombardi boss will be locked up and out of my way in no time.
However, if I allow Ryan to die, it’ll only tip my hand and show Angelo that I’m trying to get his ass caught. He knows I’m not some wet-eared rookie. And I know he has ways to ensure he gets his revenge before he ever sees a judge.
“A dead body isn’t what your boss asked for,” I say flatly, staring at the scared little shit who’s about to piss his pants.
The sheriff’s son is pushing twenty, with boy-next-door vibes. He’s borderline average in the looks department and probably can’t pull the kind of girl he thinks he’s entitled to because of his father’s position. I wouldn’t put it past him to have actually attacked the Lombardi chick.
Angelo’s guys currently have him cowering in a chair in a back room of the bar where we found him. There’s no way in hell there aren’t cameras all over this place. Idiots .
“This kid raped his baby girl,” he snaps back, glowering at me. “You good with that, newbie?”
Newbie?
This asshole has obviously heard about me. I wouldn’t be surprised if Angelo had a talk with all his men to watch out for me. However, he should’ve told them to keep their fucking mouths closed or at least be respectful around me.
“I suggest you follow orders. Try processing the consequences before you send a whole fleet of cops up your boss’s ass.”
He continues to glare at me, as if he can make me back down. He can’t. “Boss said to kill him.”
Well, then…
I wave a hand magnanimously. After all, who the hell am I to disagree with Angelo’s orders? He gave me different ones, but if Angelo wants to test his power over local law enforcement, I say let him. I’d fucking love it if this stupid, petty shit got him out of my life.
The asshole at my side steps forward, a black Glock appearing in his hand. Trigger happy, much? I’m ready to let this asshole make shit worse for his boss and enjoy the show when my cell phone begins to vibrate in my back pocket.
Normally I wouldn’t pay any attention to it, but I don’t really want to be involved in murdering Ryan Mathers, cowardly kid-next-door.
Plucking the phone from my jeans, I read Victoria’s name on the screen and fight the urge to answer it.
We’re not dating.
I’m her husband, yes. I fucked her and liked it, of course. But I’m not at her beck and call. This clingy shit is not how things will continue moving forward.
Sending her to voicemail, I refocus just in time to hear Asshole hollering at the sheriff’s son to come clean like a man. He’s wasting valuable time talking when he could be finishing the job so we can all move on.
I’m not sure why I needed to be here. Angelo sent more than enough men to do this job, especially considering I thought we were only supposed to shatter the slimeball’s knee. Hell, he knew this was the kid’s usual drinking spot. I’m convinced Angelo just sent me along to make sure I was in the thick of things while his no-brains goon squad did the wet work.
In a room that’s guaranteed to have security cameras, since the whole bar is wired for surveillance.
There’s not even a silencer on the Glock that Asshole is waving around. This is about to get messy as fuck.
Shit .
Stepping back, I rethink my options and the rooms we passed in the hall. Anyone who’s ever gotten away with murder should know not to send six men after one unarmed kid. This is the sort of job that should be a one-and-done.
And why would Angelo risk making things personal with the cops?
To get you prison time so you’re out of the way.
Which leaves Liam—who cares—and Victoria to handle the debt.
I need to get these security recordings. My face is plastered all over them and, if these morons really are about to murder the sheriff’s son, we’re going down.
And I don’t have what Victoria needs to skip town yet.
Angelo clearly has schemes within schemes, and at least one of them is meant to get him control of my wife. I haven’t forgotten his comment about her looks or how she’d catch a good price.
His price.
She’d be his personal whore and he’d be free to use her however he wanted. Over my dead body.
I open the door to the small office we’re crammed in and a blast of 80s music fills the room. One of the Lombardi goon squad turns to me and points accusingly. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Getting rid of the security footage,” I reply. “Want me to leave it for the cops?”
He stares at me for a second, taking longer than most mobsters would to answer such an obvious question, but he waves a dismissive hand at me and turns back to Ryan. I need to get the hell out of here and get rid of the evidence before they squeeze the first shot off.
My cell phone goes off again as I search for the security office, but I ignore the buzz. I only have a minute or two to find what I need. It won’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what the fuck is going on if someone wanders too far down the hallway or gets curious about the men who commandeered a storage room. And that’s before they start shooting without a silencer.
Opening another door, I spot a bunch of computer screens above a desk. Finally. I quickly stride toward the command center. It’s not the good old days anymore, when all you had to do was snatch a VHS tape and take off. No, it’s the digital age and now you have to deal with bullshit like locating the folder or directory where the files are stored. Then you get to figure out which files are the ones you need to delete.
Thankfully, I find the computer unlocked as I grab the mouse and start clicking around, searching for the current live files. My phone goes off for the third time.
She’s already getting needy.
I knew fucking her would set off a chain reaction. That she’d start to get clingy and demanding of my time. She’s so damn young.
Irritation creeps through my veins, mixing with the adrenaline that’s already present as I continue to search for the right files. I want to delete them and be on my way. I have a limited amount of time before Angelo’s goons do something stupid and the whole place floods with 911 calls and screams.
My eyes bulge with relief when I find what I’m looking for about a minute later. I drag the files to the trash can, hit delete on the recycling bin, and shut down the camera system right as I hear a shot from down the hall. It’s quickly followed by a second one, but I don’t hear any screams.
The music must be too loud, thank fuck.
Finishing up with the security system, I think of how I can make my exit. Going through one of the windows is my best chance of getting out without being seen. Angelo isn’t going to get rid of me that quickly—if that was even the plan. I’m not an easy one to take down.
He’s going to have to try a lot harder than that to get rid of Mors for good. I can’t wait until Victoria and I are done with his shit.
Finding a window, I pry it open and shove at the screen. The building is just one story, so I step out and round the building. My fucking phone vibrates again after I jump the gate and land on the sidewalk.
Pulling the device free, I see Victoria’s name again and click the green button to answer.
“What the hell do you want, princess?” I growl, expecting some whiny little response, but all I hear is a broken sob.
“It’s Liam,” she whimpers, her voice barely audible. “He’s trying to break the door down.”
The fuck?!
“Where are you?” I demand, sprinting toward the parking lot of the auto repair shop next to the bar. “Grab something, princess, anything. If he breaks through the door?—”
“I pulled my dresser out and blocked it.” Her voice quavers and my stomach drops. She needed me and I ignored her.
“Good girl, baby,” I praise, throwing open a random car door and leaning inside to hot-wire it. “Stay on the phone, okay? Did you call security?”
“The lines are busy,” she replies. “I don’t know what’s happening, Dante. I’m on the second floor. I don’t think I can jump out?—”
“No, you’ll hurt yourself and won’t be able to run. Stay where you are. What did you grab?”
“I didn’t grab anything. I don’t—I don’t know what to grab.”
“Towel rack.”
“It’s bolted to the wall.”
“Toilet seat.”
“How do I get it off? I’m—I’m s-s-sorry, Dante. I?—”
“Don’t apologize to me, okay?” I order, finding the wires I need under the steering wheel to begin starting the car. “You’re doing great. I’m coming.”
“H-h-how far are you?”
Far.
I’m about twenty minutes from campus and I’m not even sure I’ll be able to get into her building—I did get fired for inappropriate conduct, after all. Liam has every reason to be near her and I can’t do shit.
“Is Ellie there?”
“N-no. I’m a-alone.” Her sob about breaks my fucking heart.
“Can you call her? Can she find someone to scare him off?”
“I-I-I thi-think so.”
“Do that, and call me right back, okay?” The car comes to life and I throw it into gear. “Promise me, princess. You have to call me back.”
“I-I will. I promise.”
“Hurry up now. You’ve got this. Call Ellie, then call me.”
“O-okay.”
She hangs up and I glance down at the chime of my messaging app.
ANGELO: My men said you got rid of the camera files. Good man.
ANGELO: You passed the test.
Fuck Lombardi and his games. I stomp on the gas pedal and drive like a maniac toward Thronewood. Toward my wife.