50. Arsen
50
ARSEN
“I know it’s not ideal, darling, but it’s only temp?—”
Enzo is cut off by a high-pitched shriek that crackles through the phone. He winces at me apologetically and leaves the room.
“That reminds me: I should call my wife.” Dominik looks far too amused at Enzo’s troubles as he slips out of the room to call Kira.
He’s playing it off well, but I know Dom is on edge. We all are.
Jasper’s defection and recent attacks have spooked everyone. It’s one thing to face a known enemy, but when you’ve counted someone a brother and they turn on you, it’s a much harder pill to swallow. That and the increase in security has everyone on their toes.
Enzo slumps back into the room with a sigh. “Sorry about that. Guilia is out of town dealing with a family matter, and she doesn’t approve of the extra security I sent along with her.”
“I sensed she may have been upset,” I drawl.
“Turns out, she can yell at me over the phone almost as well as she can in person. At least I don’t have to worry about any vases being thrown at my head.” Enzo laughs sadly. “How is Laila taking her house arrest?”
“She isn’t throwing porcelain vases yet.”
“Lucky you,” Enzo mumbles.
“But I have agreed to loosen the reins a little,” I admit grudgingly. “Though I take it you didn’t invite me over to swap stories about our wives.”
The Italian shakes his head. “I have some new information that dropped into my lap only today. I think you should hear it, too.”
I stiffen. “Information you couldn’t pass along over the phone?
“This is Calcagno business, Arsen. Allies or not, my father’s probably rolling in his grave knowing that I’m even showing it to you. He’d rise from the dead if I texted you a picture.”
“Better to let the dead lie,” I concede. “You made the right call.”
Nodding, he pulls out a manila folder, spreading it open on the coffee table in front of us. “These are the Calcagno debt ledgers.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Your father might rise from the dead, anyway. You’re really letting me look at these?”
“Only because there are two debtors in there that might be of particular interest to you.”
I pick up the folder and leaf through it. Enzo has taken the liberty of marking several entries in green highlighter.
But even without the highlighting, one name would have jumped out at me.
“Jasper,” I whisper, before raising my gaze to meet Enzo’s eyes. “How old is his debt?”
“Years. I believe it predates his stint in prison.”
“No fucking way,” I murmur, turning the page over. “ Blyat’ … there’s a hundred percent interest on this loan.”
Enzo purses his lips. “My father wasn’t exactly known for his charitable spirit. He liked to find desperate men and wring them for all they were worth. As it turned out, they weren’t worth much.”
“He owed your father a lot.”
“He owes me a lot,” Enzo corrects me. “The debt still stands. Especially after he reopened his tab a few months ago.”
“Fucking idiot.” I turn the page and find another familiar name. I curse under my breath. “And another idiot makes two.”
“Like I said, I thought you should know.”
“Charles Barnes,” I read. “Quarter of a million dollars?”
“His debt is a lot younger than Jasper’s. It also means his rate of interest, on some portion of these loans at least, is higher.”
There are two entries made only a few months ago, one for Jasper and another for Charles. The same date has been logged under both their names. I run a hand down my face as the possibilities click into place. “Charles and Jasper could be working together.”
I’m just thinking out loud, but the idea isn’t completely unfounded. Both men have a connection to me and the Italians. Both men are greedy, desperate.
Alliances have been built on far, far less.
“Your guess is as good as mine. I looked into the books after Jasper caused a scene at my restaurant opening. If someone has a problem with me, I want to know what it is. This is what I discovered.”
“I appreciate you letting me take a look at these.” I snap the ledger shut and get to my feet.
Enzo rises with me. “If there’s anything else I can do…”
“I’ll let you know,” I assure him as I make my way to the door.
My mind is spinning, teeming with questions and realizations I should have made sooner.
Both men operate in the same way. They’re erratic and untrustworthy—always looking for the next big score.
The second that single gunshot came from the woods, I should’ve known.
“Arsen?” I twist around to find Dominik leaning against the car. “Everything alright?”
“I think Jasper and Charles are working together.”
Dominik’s reaction isn’t surprising. It’s exactly what mine would have been a few months ago. “Yeah, right,” he snorts. But when I don’t react apart from staring back at him grimly, Dominik pales. “Holy shit. You’re serious.”
“Enzo just showed me the Calcagno debt ledgers. Both of those motherfuckers are in neck-deep with the Italians.”
Dominik turns away from me. I can see his mind whirring as he catches up with what I’ve inferred. But before he can process it, Enzo crashes through the front door. “Arsen! I just heard from Guilia.”
Judging from the look on his face, he’s not coming to tell me about some marital spat. “Is she okay?”
“She is, but…” He swallows as though the words are hard to get out. “You should check on Laila.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” But I’m already pulling out my phone to call her.
“Guilia said Laila texted her about meeting at Nonna Guilia’s for lunch, but Guilia didn’t make those plans.”
“She wouldn’t have left the house without my permission.” Her phone rings once before the call is dropped. I try again, but the same thing happens.
Dominik is on the phone with someone, and he curses as he hangs up. “Polina said a paper invitation arrived at the house this morning from Guilia. And Laila went.”
“ Blyat’ . This is a trap.”
“I’m calling the restaurant,” Enzo announces, phone pressed to his ear as he turns to pace across the porch. He’s speaking in rapid Italian, but panic is a universal language.
When he finally turns around, his face is pale.
“What is it?” I growl.
“According to a waitress, Laila was in the restaurant and left a few minutes ago with one of her bodyguards.”
“Who’s on duty today?” I demand, turning to Dominik.
He’s already making another call. “It was Vasily. I’ll—” He turns away as the call connects. “Vasily, where is Laila?”
I can’t wait for second hand information. I snatch the phone from Dominik and growl into the receiver. “Where is my wife, Vasily?”
“Boss, I didn’t—” He clears his throat. “She’s in the restaurant. Nonna Guilia’s.”
My stomach plummets even as I cling to hope. “She’s in the restaurant right now? Do you have eyes on her?”
“Sh-she insisted that we stay outside, boss,” Vasily stutters, his voice thick with nerves now. “She said Mrs. Guilia’s guards could handle it. I assumed she’d asked your permission.”
Fuck.
“Get inside that restaurant right now and find her. She may still be on the premises.”
Vasily hangs up, and I toss Dom’s phone back to him and grab my own. I open the security app even though I know Laila won’t be in her studio. Some deeper part of me knows she isn’t in the restaurant, either, but I have to check.
“I have my staff looking, too,” Enzo tells me. “We’ll find her.”
It’s cold comfort, especially as the video feed loads…
And I find myself staring down at the ruins of Laila’s yoga studio.
The mirrors have been shattered, the furniture destroyed. There’s spray paint across the walls and the wood floors. I scroll back through the footage until I find the perpetrator. Then I hit play, and I watch as one of the windows shatters and a tall man in a black mask climbs over the broken glass and proceeds to decimate everything my wife has worked so hard for.
“That’s Jasper,” Dominik spits from over my shoulder. “I’d recognize that lanky frame anywhere. But how did he get past the security?”
“Because I taught him more than I should have,” I grit.
It’s a testament to how worried Dominik is for Laila that he doesn’t hit me with a much deserved “I told you so.”
“But why destroy Laila’s studio?” he asks. “What purpose does that serve?”
“Other than to piss me off? Nothing.”
I’m rewatching the footage, a rage I’ve never known burning in my chest, when the message comes in.
LAILA: Hey babe. Wanna join me for a late lunch at Nonna Guilia’s? I miss you.
“Who is it?” Dominik asks urgently, stepping to my side.
I tilt my phone towards him. “Not Laila.”
“How do you know?”
“She never calls me ‘babe.’”
“So that means?—”
“It’s another trap. This time, for me.”
Dom puffs out his chest. “Then let’s fucking go. We’ll corner those idiots and make them regret the day they were born.”
“Count me in.” Enzo steps forward, teeth clenched. “The two of them have a debt to square with the Calcagno mafia. I intend to take repayment in blood.”
I appreciate the show of support, but my mind is already whirring through the options. I know what needs to be done.
“No.”
Enzo and Dominik exchange a glance before Dom turns to me. “Do you have another plan?”
“They want me to come alone.”
He barks out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, because it’s a trap, Arsen. You can’t play into their hands.”
“I also can’t risk Laila’s life by showing up with the full cavalry. Charles and Jasper are cowards with poor judgment. They’ll kill Laila and flee the second their backs are against the wall.”
Dominik shakes his head. “I don’t like this.”
“Neither do I,” Enzo agrees. “You’re assuming it’s just the two of them. What if they have more men behind them?”
“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”
“Arsen—”
“I’ve made up my mind,” I growl fiercely. “I’m not risking Laila’s life. I’m going in alone.”
“But—”
“The decision is made, Dominik. I will not be questioned.”
Dominik’s lips press together in hard lines, but he doesn’t say a word.
Enzo isn’t held to the same level of obedience, so he shakes his head. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Arsen.”
Yeah.
That makes two of us.