Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Fabien
The Present
“Congrats on the self-realization—”
“I wasn’t finished,” I warn her.
Sienna arches an eyebrow. “Should I get the client back here to help you with that?”
“The ‘get-to-know-you’ weekend was coming to an end,” I continue, ignoring her snark. And I’ll take Sienna’s snark over her pain any day. “The contract ready to be signed.”
“How exciting,” she drawls.
“And I told everyone to fuck off, and I left to find you.”
Fabien
Twenty-one-years-old
“Thank you, Vitto, for the southern hospitality,” the boss of Baltimore tells my old man, who’s been rolled to the sitting room in a wheelchair.
“Of course. Are we ready to do the honors?” Vitto flips through the contract to the signature page.
I rise. “No.”
“No?” Vitto’s voice is balanced on a knife’s blade.
“What I said.” I turn my attention to our guest. “You want an alliance with me when I’m boss, we can talk. But I’m not going to be forced into anything, including marriage.”
He bristles. “And what is wrong with my daughter?”
“Nothing. She’s just not the woman I love.”
Vitto’s eyes have narrowed to slits as I hustle out of the room.
I’m behind the wheel and on the phone with Nic. “Tell me you’ve found her.”
“We’re still looking.”
I growl, ending the call and getting Detective Pierre on the line. After catching him up to speed, I implore, “Help me find her.”
“Fabien, I can put out a BOLO, but have you checked the hotel security footage?”
Tires squeal as I make a U-turn in the intersection, getting a few honks and middle fingers as I speed to the hotel.
Sprinting to the lounge’s private area, I fling open the door to Michele’s office. He’s seated behind his desk, receiving a sloppy blowjob by one of the working girls. “Fabien.” He shoos the girl off of him, fumbling with his cock. “This is on her downtime, I swear—”
“Get out,” I order the girl, and she rises from her knees and scurries away. My gaze levels on Michele. “Pull up the security feed from Friday night.”
“Have to get Jade on that; I don’t know how to work the thing,” he admits, buckling his belt.
“Then go fucking get her,” I say, my patience running thin.
Michele looks like he wants to pop off, but he thinks better of it, strolling out.
A moment later, Jade enters the office. “Mr. Calvani. What camera and timestamp do you need?”
“The footage of Sienna leaving the hotel on Friday night. Let’s start with the alley camera around nine o’clock, and work our way back.”
Jade gets the video feed up and running, and after a few minutes of watching an empty alleyway, Sienna comes bounding around the corner on foot. She doubles over to catch her breath as Ringer appears from inside the lounge.
That lying motherfucker.
After an exchange Sienna didn’t like based on her facial expression, she disappears inside.
Ringer smiles as he finishes his smoke, flicking the butt onto the ground before slinking behind the dumpster.
My heart pounds in my ears.
The door bursts open, and Sienna is shoved into the alley by mama’s security detail.
My girl stomps over to my car, taking her key and digging it into the paint job. I would laugh as she keys the word Nobody on my driver’s side door, but Ringer approaches her.
Words are exchanged.
Ringer places his hands on her.
She knees him in the balls and takes off in a sprint.
He tackles her.
A strange calm washes over me I watch my girl being brutally beaten and raped.
“Get. Out.” My words are a whisper, but Jade hears them loud and clear, hurrying out of the room.
Ringer carries a lifeless Sienna to the back of the alley and hoists her into the dumpster.
Never done drugs in my life, but a mirror with a line of coke is tee’ed up on Michele’s desk, and I take the rolled up hundred, the powder hitting my nostrils.
But before it hits my bloodstream, I’m out the door.
Time stills.
Ringer’s seated in his booth.
Gun’s in my right hand.
We lock eyes.
I aim and pull the trigger, brain chunks and blood spattering on the people in the booth behind him.
Sprinting to the alley, I dive into the dumpster. “Where is she?” I bellow, flinging bag after bag, until it’s empty, but no Sienna.
My phone buzzes, and I grab it from my pocket, praying it’s her.
My boy, you made your choice. NOPD is on the way. Don’t embarrass this family further by running.
Who would’ve thought a dumpster is where I’d get a front row seat to my downfall?
Fabien
The present
“How convenient that everyone who could verify your story is dead. Almost as if it’s revisionist history.” Sienna examines her nails, but she’s not fooling me; her pulse is jackhammering.
“Not revisionist history, but fact.”
“History is written by the victors.” Fire in her eyes, her gaze locks with mine, “You lost.”
I adamantly shake my head. “I’m alive. You’re alive. That means there’s still a chance for us.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I died in that dumpster, and so did any chance of us.” Sienna’s voice breaks as she hurries inside the house.
I want so damn bad to go after her, to make her believe me, but I know my girl. If I push right now, she’ll only dig her heels in.
On a frustrated breath, I stalk to the bar and grab the limoncello from the fridge. The ten-thousand-dollar bottle has been chilled per my instructions, and I rip off the gold foil with my teeth before popping the cork and taking a swig.
Fantasy and reality collide yet again; all I taste are Sienna’s bitter tears.
“Fuck!” I fling the bottle against the brick wall.