Chapter 26 Teo
twenty-six
Teo
“Shhh.” I held my finger to my lips as my men and I rounded the corners in the run-down warehouse. “Bring Gianni to me alive. Everybody else is disposable. Kill ’em all, no witnesses.”
“And what about the girl? You let her slip away.” Alex reminded me.
“Nah, I let her lead me to my wife. If she isn’t dead already bring her to me alive as well.”
Over the past few hours, my movements had been guided by pure instinct and rage.
There wasn’t a single thing I wasn’t willing to do to get my wife back, including using any means necessary to extract the truth from the daughter of an ally.
Gianni would be pissed, because there were rules.
Each family handled their own, but I couldn’t, and wouldn’t rely on him to take care of his daughter.
Besides, she had information that I needed and had violated in a major way. I took great pleasure in breaking her.
I knew she would fold.
They always did when the tip of my knife met their flesh or the cold steel of my blade struck against their tightly clenched muscles.
There was nothing friendly about the way I got my information.
It was always brutal, and never a rush. Pain was the motivator, but not the way to salvation.
Only death would suffice. But even death, in this moment, was too easy, and not conducive to my needs.
But suffering? That made people honest. And Isabella Vitale wasn’t any different.
I remembered the moment she made the decision. The second the pain was so unbearable that giving up Orlando and that bitch ass nigga Corey was the only way out.
She was fading.
Her breath was ragged, coming in short, quick bursts. Blood pooled beneath her feet from multiple wounds. Still, her chin tilted stubbornly. But I was determined to break that.
I grabbed her left hand, slamming it flat against the rusted steel beam beside her. “This the hand you used to poison my guests?” I held my palm open. “Alex… My machete.”
Alex handed over the blade with the same menacing smirk that matched my own.
Her eyes went wide. “Teo—”
“The one that signed off on my wife’s kidnapping?” I raised the machete.
“Wait! Wait, wait, wait!” She screamed, thrashing against me. “I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you everything—please!”
I paused, the blade hovering dangerously close to her skin.
Her eyes flickered with desperation. “Old warehouse. Off Rogers.” She barely whispered, the blood clinging to her flesh trickling down from her open wounds. “I—I can take you there.”
“I knew you’d come around.” I nodded, grazing the edge over her skin just enough to draw out a cry.
Then, I wiped the blade clean on her pink-stained blouse and gestured for her to lead the way.
Reluctantly, she led the way, her steps unsteady.
Though she hesitated in her movements, Isabella knew what was up.
Cooperating was the only option.
It’s how I found myself easing through the dimly lit corridors of the old warehouse.
The thick air was laced with rust and decay.
I had one gun drawn, and my other hand silently directing my men where to move.
Orlando knew we were here, so I understood the heat coming our way.
Looking at the end of the hallway, I weighed my options.
To the left, a narrow staircase led downward, possibly toward the storage room or basement where Ayanna might be held.
To the right was another long hallway leading to a set of large double doors.
A few seconds later, I heard heavy footsteps, chatter, and frantic whispers coming from the left of me.
My instincts screamed move quickly, but caution kept me rooted in place.
Taking cover, I looked at my men, gesturing for them to cover my back.
“On my signal,” I whispered, adrenaline coursing through my veins. The footsteps grew louder, and I steadied my breath. “Now.”
The sound of gunfire erupted from the right hallway, followed by shouts and the heavy crash of bodies hitting the floor. My men were handling business while my focus was getting to wherever she was. Something about the staircase called to me. It’s where instinct told me she’d be.
If I was Orlando, it’s where I’d put my prisoner, somewhere they couldn’t be heard… or seen.
Moving quickly and carefully, I walked down the steps into the damp basement. It was darker than the rest of the warehouse but not pitch black. You could still see, just not as clearly.
Then I heard it — someone running and stumbling over the crates haphazardly scattered across the floor. My heart told me it was her, but my gun was drawn just in case it wasn’t. When the door flew open, and her battered face came into my sight, I lowered my weapon.
“Teo...” she breathed the minute she laid eyes on me, her body crashing into me with a sense of relief. Her embrace was tight and even a little desperate as she clung to me like she was afraid I’d disappear.
“Amore,” I whispered back, my voice cracking with the same desperation. “You’re okay.” I kissed her temple and stroked the back of her disheveled hair, holding her just as tightly.
“I think... I think I killed her.” Her voice trembled, and I felt her shudder against me. “She was...”
“Shhh...” I gripped her tightly, my free hand massaging at her scalp. “I got you,” I whispered, then kissed her swollen lips. “I got you.”
She was spooked and possibly even a little broken, but she was safe now that she was with me and in my arms. Anyone coming through that door would have to kill me to get to her. And I wasn’t dying today.
We stood there for what seemed like an eternity. Her... breathing heavily, sobbing, and releasing whatever tension she had been holding onto. While I slowly fumed and plotted how Orlando would suffer. I was relieved that she was here and that I could hold her but her cries... they were breaking me.
“We need to move,” I said gently, knowing the danger wasn’t over yet. “You okay to move?”
She nodded, wiping her eyes, when the doors I’d just came through burst open.
My first instinct was to aim my weapon at the intruder, my finger hovering over the trigger ready to take out whoever rounded the corner.
“Boss. Whoa. It’s me,” one of my men said quickly, both hands up as he stepped into view. He then lowered his own weapon and scanned the floor for any signs of danger.
I couldn’t help but notice the way Ayanna flinched slightly at his entrance, then tucked herself deeper into my embrace at the sound of his voice.
Without taking my hands from her, I said, “What’s the status of Orlando?”
“No sign. We searched the entire warehouse except for this section.”
My head shook, contemplating my next move. “Aight', I’ll sweep down here. It’ll be quick. You secure this area. Not a person in or out.”
His chin dipped slightly before doing as I instructed.
Taking a step back, I took a good look at her and swiped the bruising on her face. “Who did this to you?”
I had to know which one would suffer the most.
“It happened during the ambush,” she whispered. “I didn’t see who it was, everything was just a blur. But Isabella, Corey, and Orlando are the ones who had me taken. They were working together.”
My jaw clenched.
“Corey stole… then used the bracelet you gave me for my eighteenth birthday to track my location.
He had been working with them the entire time.
They were his family," she scoffed. "And Isabella made sure the bracelet got to me on our wedding day.” Her voice cracked. “It’s why she was so smug. I was so stupid.”
“Nah. This is on me.”
Isabella had been a loose end that I should have tied a while ago, but I respected her father too much to deal with her properly.
I’d always known her end game was power and not me — per se.
While I knew Isabella could love me. She didn’t.
That’s not what any of this was about. This was about power and how much she could gain in order to give orders in certain places.
She wanted to be the HBIC. And when she knew she couldn’t get that from her father.
She thought she could achieve that status through me.
But I’d never given her the opportunity to be anything but a warm and wet mouth to me.
But Corey’s bitch-ass being involved and related to Orlando was a problem I hadn’t anticipated. But a complication I welcomed rectifying.
I’d always known I didn’t like Corey. And it had nothing to do with the fact that Yanna spent a year in a relationship with him. The entire situation had me regretting not offing that nigga the minute he stepped to her.
“This is not on you. All of this... is on me. But we’re gonna handle it.” I kissed her temple. “You good to follow me?” I asked knowing that letting her out my sight wasn’t an option. For either of us.
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, glancing toward the room she’d run from.
I could see the hesitation in her eyes, but also something else.
“Isabella’s dead,” she murmured quietly. “And Corey... I left him bleeding out in there.”
I nodded, not surprised. My wife wasn’t some scary woman, she was a fighter. This vulnerability I was witnessing was only because it was me. Had one of my men found her before I did, she would’ve been hard as steel. This I was sure.
“Good,” I said simply.
Keeping one arm around her waist, I led her back toward the room. She stayed close, pressed against my side, but she didn’t hesitate. When we reached the doorway, I could smell the metallic scent of blood. The room was a mess.
Isabella’s body was sprawled on the concrete floor, her neck bent unnaturally. There was blood pooled around her face and splattered across the floor. Corey’s bitch ass was slumped against the far wall, his breathing shallow.