Chapter 19
Mikey
It's five minutes until midnight, and I am sitting outside of this abandoned-looking warehouse that is on the edge of the river. There are no lights around, no movement at all. I am the only car that I can see.
Where the fuck are these assholes?
I kill the engine and sit there for a second. My hands are still on the wheel, white as bone from my death grip.
I should text Kai and tell him to lock the doors and windows. To set the fucking alarm and stay close to Julia.
Then I picture her right before I left the house, sprawled out on my bed, wearing my Vortex hoodie, curled into the blanket. She looked so peaceful and calm.
The peace she feels with us aches in my chest. She never felt safe a day in her life until now. And that just fuels the rage in my chest.
I step out of the car, and the cold hits me immediately.
I can feel the winter coming on strong in Chicago.
I am honestly surprised the snow hasn’t come yet.
I pull my jacket closer into me as my boots crunch over broken glass and gravel.
I reach the rusted metal door and see two shadows flanking it.
They are broad, armed, and looking unamused.
One of them pats me down, fucking rough. His hands close around my ankle holster.
“Nice try,” he grunts, pocketing my gun.
“I expect that back,” I say to him, and he ignores me, just opening the door for me.
I walk in and let the darkness engulf me. Inside, it smells like mold and rust. The only light is a bare bulb swinging from a chain. It keeps flickering and buzzing constantly; it's like it wants to die, but De Luca won’t let it.
Then there he is. The man of the hour, standing beneath the poor, lonely light. He is perfectly still in his tailored suit and his hands behind his back. He looks like he just got out of a board meeting instead of luring me into an abandoned slaughterhouse.
He looks me up and down with that cold, calculated smile.
“Michael Monroe,” He says, drawing out my name to save every syllable. “You grew up.”
I force myself to keep my shoulders loose and my chin lifted. I refuse to show fear of him. “That’s what happens when you eat food,” I reply with my smart ass remarks.
“Always did have a sassy mouth on you.” He tsks.
I look him straight in the eyes. Now it’s time for business. “You asked. I showed.”
He chuckles softly.
“Oh, you showed,” he murmurs. “Ten years late, but I suppose we can overlook that… given the circumstances.”
I don’t like where this is going. My instincts haven’t screamed this loud since the night Kai found that bastard on top of our mother and beat him to a pulp.
“What do you want from me?” I growl.
De Luca lifts his chin, and two more men step out of the shadows behind me. The hair on the back of my neck rises.
“I want my daughter.”
My heart stops mid-beat.
He steps closer, “You took something from me, Michael. Years ago, you took a life that wasn’t yours to take. And recently…” He tilts his head and looks at me, “You took my Julia.”
“I didn’t take her,” I bite out. “ She was living on her own. And your men were using her, for their own sick pleasure, and then beating the shit out of her.”
He laughs, a soft, dangerous laugh. “My people do nothing without my permission.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You think my men showed up at the bar by chance?”
A pause.
“You think they just took it upon themselves to hurt her and fucked her?”
Another pause.
“No, ragazzo. Everything that happened to Julia was ordered by me.”
My stomach drops.
He steps closer to me, the dim light showing off the sharp lines of his face.
“She was getting… sentimental… rebellious and forgetting her place. She was spending time in the wrong districts, with the wrong friends, and making the wrong choices.”
He leans in slightly, “Girls like her need correction, structure, and discipline.”
I clench my fists so hard that my nails draw blood on my palm.
“And what’s your solution?”
“Well, marriage, of course. She was promised years ago to a powerful family. A lucrative partnership. It was an arranged marriage she had been promised to since birth.”
My vision goes red.
“You can’t just…”
His hand snaps out faster than I can react. He has a fistful of my shirt and yanks me forward until our faces are mere inches apart.
“I can do anything I fucking want,” he whispers. “She is mine.”
The last words detonate inside me, and I swing.
But before I can make contact, someone grabs my arm mid-strike, twisting it behind me. Pain burst up my shoulder, and I am forced to my knees. A punch cracks across my jaw, then another, until the metallic taste of blood floods my mouth.
De Luca watches, bored, while his men beat me.
A boot slams into my ribs, and I feel something crack. I choke on a groan.
Another kick comes… then another.
My vision starts to blur.
“Enough,” De Luca says, at last.
I’m panting, bracing on my palms as blood drips from my mouth onto the dusty concrete.
He crouches down in front of me, watching me like I am a bug he is getting ready to squish.
“You owe me a debt,” he says softly. “For the man your brother killed and for the daughter you are hiding from me, I let you both walk free and play hockey, now it's time to cash in.”
He grips my chin, forcing my head up to look at him. “So here is how you will repay me.”
Every muscle in my body goes rigid.
“You will bring Julia to me. She belongs with her family. With her future husband. And if you don’t…”
He taps my cheek lightly. “... I will collect her myself.”
A colder threat that he didn't have to speak wraps itself around me.
“And Michael?” He rises slowly. “That beating?” He smiles down at me. “That was a mercy.”
The men step back, and the door screeches open behind me.
“Midnight tomorrow,” De Luca adds. “Bring her home.”
As I stagger to my feet, my ribs screaming, blood dripping from my jaw, I realize three things:
De Luca never wanted a debt repaid.
2. He wanted leverage.
3. And he will burn the world down to drag Julia back into his cage.
But that can’t happen if I burn him first.