Chapter 2 – DARIO #2
The other men in this room know what I am. They understand what I’m capable of. Frankie does too, but he’s too stupid to have developed a sense of self-preservation.
“Are we clear, son?” Renelli presses.
I nod. It’s clear. I’m not going to drop it, but I have no problem waiting for revenge. I’m a big fan of antipasti. I like all kinds of things cold.
It’s almost better when an enemy’s been lulled into a false sense of security. The surprise in his eyes when he feels the blade slip between his ribs. It gets me hard every time.
“Good.” Renelli reaches over and pats my leg. “Forget the whore. You won’t see her again.” He deftly changes the subject as my blood runs cold. “Now, how’s my money?”
“Good, good.” That nagging buzz in my brain that never quite subsided roars to life. You won’t see her again . It was an assurance. He’s sent men after her.
My gaze flickers around the room as I sprint through the calculations.
Our best men are here. Renelli sent soldiers.
Ivano I’ve never been a hundred percent sure of, but Ray’s mine, and no one but Ray knows where I told him to dump her off.
If Renelli made the call when he saw the video, he could have had eyes on her for hours.
She might have a bullet in her brain now.
My pulse pounds in my ears. I’m chatting with Renelli, rattling through my recent trades on autopilot, and if not for those years in my father’s house, I wouldn’t be able to hide the rage that’s broken loose in my chest.
He dares go after what’s mine?
An image flashes in my mind. Posy on the ground, a hole in her head, blood in her blonde hair, her blue eyes sightless.
The buzz in my head becomes a wild roar.
No. I’m not done playing yet.
Is she dead already?
If she’s dead, so are they. Every motherfucker lounging in this room as if they’re bad, wearing suits and gold watches and diamond rings paid for by the money I make. Any goon can collect a debt. I’ve built these apes a financial empire.
I decide when the game’s over. If they take Posy from me, I’ll burn it all down and throw their limp corpses on the fire for fuel.
Renelli’s staring at me askance. I realize I’ve stopped talking. His brow furrows, and then he offers me a wry smile.
“Of course, my money’s always good in your hands. I don’t understand a fuckin’ word you say half the time, but I understand zeroes enough. Keep ‘em growing, my boy.” He nods to Tony and struggles to his feet, joints cracking. “We’ll leave you to it.”
I stand. The men fall in behind Renelli, careful to avoid my gaze. Except for Frankie. He smirks and licks his lips.
I’m going to bury him out back under the hostas so I can take a piss on him while standing on the edge of the deck.
The men shuffle out the door, and I go to crack the window. I can’t think with this reek in the air. I need to call Ray. I need to know she’s alive.
The footsteps grow softer as I reach for my phone. As soon as Ivano sees them out, I need to know. My nerves stretch with the seconds, my chest tightening.
I almost don’t notice Lucca Corso hanging back, Tomas lingering behind him.
He’s in the doorway, hand resting on the frame, casual, as if he’s had an afterthought.
I tense. Lucca’s not as stupid as the rest of them.
He quirks his lips, flashing his bright white teeth. It’s his way to flirt with everyone—man, woman, and child. It’s how he convinces people to underestimate him.
“What?” I snap. “I have work.”
He smiles wider. “All work and no play makes Johnny a dull boy.”
“Get the fuck outta here, Lucca.”
A trace of real amusement sparks in his dead eyes. “You do better work when you get to play your games.”
What is he talking about?
He takes a half-step forward. “Yield on the growth funds has increased at least twenty percent over market average for the past two quarters.”
It’s true. But what’s his point? I raise my eyebrows.
“You said it yourself just now,” he says by way of explanation. “But I read the prospectuses. I’ve noticed.” He rubs an invisible speck from the doorframe and then slips his hand in his pocket. “Some men value loyalty above all. Honor. Brotherhood.”
He expels a cynical sigh. “But we’re not brothers, are we, Volpe?”
His words conjure the ancient past, fetid and foul. Bitterness floods my mouth. “No. We’re not.”
His mother was married to my father, but no—we were never brothers.
“We see things the same, you and I.”
He’s speaking in riddles, and I don’t have time for it. Is that his game? He wastes my time while Renelli’s men narrow in on Posy?
The roar in my brain becomes a howl. I force my hands to relax, slow my breathing, give nothing away.
When I don’t respond, he clicks his cheek. “It would be a shame if our bull market came to an end.” He shrugs. “But I suppose no good thing can last, eh?”
He blinks as if rousing himself from a daydream. “I’ll leave you to it,” he says and heads off down the hall, Tomas falling in to walk by his side. The movie star and the street fighter. Odd fuckin’ couple.
My phone’s immediately in my hand, and I’m dialing. Ray picks up after one ring.
“Do you have her?” I growl.
He only misses a half beat. “I dropped her at La Armada.”
“When?”
“I don’t know…Twenty minutes ago?”
“Where did she go?”
“Into the hotel.”
Why would she do that? She has no more than two hundred dollars cash. Maybe she doesn’t realize I cancelled her credit card.
“Was anyone following her? When you dropped her off?”
“No, boss.”
“Go back. Get her. Bring her back here.”
“All right.”
“How long before you get there?”
“I’m still parked out front.”
“I told you to dump her and leave.”
“I was reading the paper,” he grumbles. “Don’t bust my chops.”
“Go now.” I hang up.
Twenty minutes. If she tried to book a room, her credit card would have been declined. She’d head somewhere else. It’s busy downtown this time of day. Ray might luck into her, but she could be blocks away by now.
I click the app to track her phone. I should’ve done this first. My brain is slow. Thick.
By some miracle, she’s still at La Armada. I text the coordinates to Ray, and I pace, the cacophony in my brain ebbing and surging with the erratic beating in my chest.
He’ll bring her back to me. Within the hour, she’ll be here.
No one takes what’s mine without my permission.
I decide when I’m done with that bitch.
And by the time I am, she’s going to be very, very sorry for all the trouble she’s caused.