Chapter 5
Chapter Five
He keeps tabs on you.
Brad’s words repeat over and over in my head as I drive back to the casino. He keeps fucking tabs on me. Fuck that and fuck him. I’m done being the nice girl. How long has he been listening to my private conversations?
Who does that? Plants a listening device at a cemetery?
There are only a few people who know that I go there and tell my mother everything.
And Jacob Westmead makes the short list. It was one thing to take my virginity and leave me, but listening to my conversations with my dead mother?
Yeah, that’s a line you just don’t cross.
I’m not a confrontational person.
Tell that to Freddie, a little voice in the back of my head taunts me.
Although the incident with Freddie was out of self-preservation, not confrontation. I don’t know what happened to him that day, but he thought it was okay to take it out on me. I have never been punched before, and I would prefer never to experience it again either.
But right now, I’m so mad that I don’t care. I am going to confront Jake. He needs to stop whatever it is he’s doing to keep tabs on me. We are not friends. We are nothing. He made sure of that. He chose this, not me.
I pull up to the front of Aces and stop. “Keep it here for me. I just need to grab something from the office,” I tell the valet.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies.
I walk as calmly as I can through the casino floor, politely nodding at staff. I’m boiling with rage on the inside, picturing Jake’s head on a spike. I smile at the thought. I could use it as a decoration in my new office. It would make for a great talking point.
I shove into the office, thankful when I find that it’s empty.
Then I walk around the desk and open the top drawer.
As expected, there’s a pistol sitting on top.
I pick it up and feel the weight of it in my hand.
I’m no stranger to guns. My father and uncles all took me shooting as soon as they deemed I was old enough to learn how to do it.
I eject the magazine and tilt the pistol to the side, racking it and catching the bullet midair.
Next, I empty the rest of the magazine into the drawer, slide it back into the pistol, and pop the whole thing into my bag.
I want to scare the idiot, not actually kill him.
I cannot have another accidental death on my hands.
Especially not Jake’s, despite how mad I might be at him right now.
I slam the drawer shut and walk out of the office, bumping into my father as he’s walking in. Fuck. Talk about shitty timing.
“Jazzy, you okay?” he asks, looking down at me.
“Yeah, I was… ah… looking for something I thought I left here. I didn’t. How are you doing?” I smile, hoping he doesn’t ask questions.
“You sure?” My dad’s eyes burn through mine. He knows I’m lying. I’ve always been shitty at it.
“Yep.” I pop the P at the end of the word. “I had lunch with Bradley today. He says hi.”
“Why are you meeting with that moron, Jazzy?” Dad grunts.
“Because he’s my friend.” I laugh.
My dad has never liked me being friends with Bradley or Jacob.
Although he did ask me once where Jake was when he stopped coming around after prom.
I told him he went on vacation with his parents.
Another lie. But it’s not like I could tell my dad that a boy disappeared after I gave him my virginity.
He never asked about him again after that day, though, probably just relieved he was out of the picture.
Maybe my dad was onto something back then. I mean, he was right. Jake did turn out to be an asshole. If I had listened to my dad and stayed away from him, my heart would still be intact. Then again, I also would not have experienced the best night of my life.
Sometimes you have to take the good with the bad, I guess.
“I gotta go. Say hi to Antonia for me. You know, when you go home at a reasonable time tonight,” I tell him.
“I thought I was the parent here,” my dad mumbles as he pulls me tight against his chest.
“You are. But I’m an adult too, and I can worry about you just as much as you worry about me.” I push up on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek.
“You shouldn’t be worrying about me, Jazzy. Go. Enjoy your last day off. Tomorrow morning, this is all yours.” He waves a hand around the office.
Technically, I have my own office next to this one, but I don’t correct him. I do wonder why he’s taken on so much. It’s not like my parents need the money. At least I don’t think they do. I make a mental note to look at the casino finances.
“Thanks.” I nod at the valet who opens my car door for me.
“You’re welcome, ma’am.” The young guy smiles nervously at me.
Seeing my dad gave my rage a little bit of time to simmer down.
But now that I’m on my way over to the Westmead building, where I know Jake will probably be since Bradley made it a point to tell me he took over as CEO two years ago, my mind drifts back to the night of prom.
Or more specifically, the morning I woke up alone.
The listening device, the one I crushed, is sitting in the center console of my car. I’m going to ram it down his throat. Screw him. Who the hell does he think he is listening to my private conversations?
By the time I reach the Westmead building, my anger is back to an all-time high.
After parking my car, I walk straight to the elevators.
I’ve been to this building a hundred times when I was in high school.
Whenever Jake had to stop in and see his dad, I’d follow him.
Because back then, I would have followed that boy right into the pits of hell.
Stepping in as soon as the doors open, I punch in the numbers Jake used, hoping he hasn’t changed them. The elevator starts its ascent, and I thank the stupid asshole for not having the foresight to change his access codes.
When the metal doors open again, I step out onto gray marble floors.
My heels click loudly in the otherwise silent office space.
I walk through the place like I belong here.
I don’t, but I also don’t want to be stopped.
And something my father and uncles taught me was to always look like you own the place, even when you don’t.
I reach the office that Jake’s father used to occupy and am immediately stopped by a leggy, blonde receptionist. I roll my eyes. Typical. I bet he’s fucking her on their lunch breaks. I instantly hate her, despite knowing I have no reason to.
“Can I help you?” the woman asks.
“He’s expecting me,” I snap and walk right past her. I cringe because I’m not usually rude to people. Without stopping, I push the door open and step in. “You fucking piece-of-shit asshole!”
Four heads turn in my direction and my cheeks flame. It’s only Jacob’s gaze that I focus on, though. His lips tip up at the sides as if he’s trying to fight off a smile.
“Out,” he says without taking his eyes off me.
I put a hand on my cocked hip. If he thinks he can bark an order and get rid of me, he doesn’t know who he’s fucking with.
I’m about to show him exactly who I am. A Bianchi.
I am not someone to roll over and put up with his bullshit.
Right as my mouth opens to tell him as much, the three men stand and walk towards me.
They give me a cautious look as they walk by. When the last one is out the door, I slam it shut and lock it. Then I dig into my bag and pull out the gun, followed by the listening device, which I throw at Jake. The asshole catches it in one hand.
“I believe this belongs to you,” I hiss. “What the actual fuck, Jake? You’re spying on me?”
My hand is steady as I walk farther into the room, keeping the pistol aimed at his head. Jake doesn’t flinch. “How have you been, Jazzy? Please, have a seat.” He motions to the chair in front of his desk.
“Fuck you. Don’t how have you been, Jazzy me, asshole. Why the hell are you spying on me?”
“Put the gun away, Jasmine. We both know you’re not going to shoot me,” he says, sitting down in his desk chair as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“The last man who underestimated me is now sinking at the bottom of the East River. You don’t know me anymore, Jacob. You have no idea what I’m capable of,” I tell him.