Chapter 18
Chapter eighteen
Jericho
“Are you sure we can trust them?” Skylar asks when we pull up to Alessandro’s casino in the heart of New Vernon. The chilly night air bites at my face, the wind howling off the large building and straight into my wool coat.
Beside me, Skylar doesn’t even shiver against the cold.
He just tucks his chin into his collar, the new pretty silk scarf shining against the neon lights of the casino’s digital displays.
We keep our pace steady, walking in sync as if we’re marching onto the battlefield together.
His brown eyes scan the area, looking for threats.
Last night, we stayed up late talking about our lives.
He told me about his secret business venture and how he started Studio 221 to protect his friends, like Monty, Juan, and several of his co-stars.
He loves the porn industry and wants a safe environment for those he cares about.
He told me more about Hunter—with Hunter’s permission, of course—and it was strange knowing that someone who mentored Skylar and knows what I do for a living still approves.
Although I wouldn’t be surprised if this Hunter guy had already fully vetted me before that conversation.
When Skylar told me about his friendship with Hunter, I explained that I have Alessandro. As unconventional as we are, it’s nice to know that I can trust someone else in the world. As if he knew we were talking about him, Alessandro called me. To my surprise, he had a lead on Franko.
Skylar and I easily agreed to meet with him, and it’s how we ended up here today. We enter the building, the cold night air being swallowed by the heat inside. We’re surrounded by the chaotic noise of slot machines and the scents of tobacco and alcohol.
Skylar easily shifts into his public persona with a dazzling, effortless smile on his face. Despite knowing that I’m usually safe whenever I visit, I can’t help eyeing everyone around me. I place a possessive hand on the small of Skylar’s back before guiding him to the private VIP room.
The two guards who are almost always stationed here give me their usual brief nod of acknowledgment.
The guard on the right speaks low into his comms before ushering us forward.
He pats us down, pausing over the numerous knives and weapons my little Minx is carrying. Fucking hell, did he prepare for war?
Skylar’s brows fly to his hairline with shock when they let us pass, his arsenal of weapons still intact. Lacing his fingers with mine, I bring his knuckles to my lips. “Let’s head inside, little arsenal. I told you we could trust Alessandro.”
We walk into the room, and my eyes immediately spot my friend, his sister, and Alessandro’s head of security. Alessandro stands, walks over, and yanks me into a grateful hug. “Jericho, my friend.”
I pat him on the back, shocked when the hug lingers a bit longer than usual.
It’s then that I remember the last time I saw him.
Pulling back, I study the mafia man. His hair is neatly styled, and that, combined with the lack of stress about his sister’s well-being, has made him look ten years younger than he did during our last meeting.
Sienna stands from her chair and elegantly makes her way to my side as well. “Jericho,” she greets with a smile. “Thank you for saving me.”
“It was a pleasure, Sienna.” My eyes bounce over to Skylar, who’s standing there with a small smile on his face.
I expected to see him with his public persona mask in place, but this is the real Skylar King.
He’s not only showing my friends who he is, but he’s showing me that he trusts my judgment about them.
Fucking hell, I think I’m falling for the damn minx.
Skylar glances over at Alessandro and reaches out. “Hi, I’m Skylar. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Alessandro Moretti,” he says, extending his hand and grasping Skylar’s.
Alessandro eyes my man curiously before giving me a shit-eating grin.
My face heats just knowing that the last time I chatted with the man in person, I confessed my sexual preferences and told him exactly what I wanted to do to my little porn star.
We make small talk for a bit before Alessandro finally cuts to the chase. “Sienna knows Franko’s location.”
My gaze bounces over to hers. She explains that while she was living with him, and things had started changing in their relationship, she began paying attention to things like escape routes, security detail, their schedules, and even Franko’s schedule.
Sienna started notating things in her phone and even recorded some video.
Franko might have cut her access to her network and internet connection, but she was able to convince him to let her keep her phone so she could play games when she was bored. Sienna is a genius.
“Because we know which location he resides in, we confirmed that we have the blueprints of the building in our possession. My father might have been a moron for dealing with Franko, but at least he kept tabs on the asshole.”
Sienna goes over Franko’s daily and nightly routines, and I’m shocked by how precise he is. We easily form a basic plan just from the information given, but Franko has escaped us multiple times now. We need our plans to be flawless.
“Let’s see these blueprints. Skylar and I need to get to work.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re huddled over the conference table, going over it again. The architectural blueprints of Franko’s penthouse are laid out between us. He owns the whole damn building, and fortunately for us, he has no idea we now know that.
“The security sweep occurs like clockwork every fifteen minutes, according to Sienna’s thorough notes and videos,” I explain, pointing at the service shaft with a rough finger.
“I’ll cut the main circuit breaker power by deactivating it from the basement.
The backup generators will take exactly forty-five seconds to kick in.
This is your opportunity to manually ascend the cable to the top floor.
With brown hair falling over his eyes, Skylar leans in, his gaze dissecting the map’s details.
He absently plays with the pendant on his necklace.
“Forty-five seconds is a joke. I only need thirty. After I enter the maintenance hatch, I’ll use the custom digital loop to bypass the hallway’s cameras. ”
Our back-and-forth banter is present even in our planning.
I love that we can do something like this together.
My mind drifts to the future. Once Franko is gone, will he still be willing to kill?
I watch his hands as he traces the escape route.
The same pretty hands that were wrapped around my cock only a few hours ago. “And Franko?” I ask.
“He drinks a single glass of bourbon on the rocks at 11:15 PM,” Sienna says, a cold, calculating stillness settling over her features. “His personal security detail stays outside the main door to the elevator until their shift is over.”
The lighthearted banter vanishes, and the room feels suddenly heavy. Thick with tension. Sienna had to live with the piece of shit, and I’m just glad we got her out of there.
Skylar nods, making eye contact with me. “I’ll be waiting in the shadows, already inside behind his desk, syringe in hand. No noise. No blood. Just my white amethyst sedating him.”
I nod. “And I’ll cause a distraction once you inject him. Thanks to their stupid protocols, they’ll be rushing to check things out rather than securing their man.”
Skylar grins maliciously. “I’ll shove the piece of shit down the laundry chute. Once we have him, we’ll take him to my favorite little spot.”
I gaze at him, and a deep, frightening familiarity washes over me. I’m not falling for this man—I’m in love with him. For a long time, I existed in isolation, certain that the darkness of my life would be too much for anyone else to handle. But Skylar doesn’t just handle it, he thrives in it.
“And what if the guards suddenly switch things up and enter the room?” I ask, testing Skylar’s resolve.
Skylar’s pretty brown gaze locks onto mine with a look so intense that it steals my breath. “Then I trust my sexy hitman to pay attention to his comms and come for me. Like a damsel in distress,” he quips.
Fucking Minx.
A light touch of his fingers on my arm conveys a secret promise. “You’ll come for me, won’t you, my handsome brute?” His tone is so suggestive, it’s hard to miss the double entendre.
“Always,” I rasp, my fingers capturing his, the weight of my promise settling in my chest. “Every factor is accounted for, Sky. We’re ready.”
After finalizing our plans, Alessandro asked if he could borrow Skylar for a moment. At first, I was nervous, but as I peer over at them laughing and chatting, warmth settles over me. I never considered Alessandro to be one of my best friends, but in all honesty, he might be my only real friend.
And now, with Skylar by my side, the familiar weight of loneliness lifts, taking some of the lingering dark shadows out of my heart.
Sienna is several feet away, peering down at the lively casino life below us. I walk over to her, propping a hip against the railing and leaning on it next to her. “Can I ask you a question?”
Sienna nods, turning to face me. “Sure.” She offers me a small smile. “What’s up?”
“In your letter to Alessandro, you mentioned something about giving Fluffy a bath. Alessandro said that’s your way of saying you want him to drown? Why drowning?”
A wicked smile crosses her lips, and I get the feeling Sienna might be a little like us.
“He’s afraid of water. It’s his greatest fear.
” Something about that statement rattles around in my head.
It sounds familiar. I make a promise to myself to look into it later.
Meanwhile, a tempting idea springs to life.
“That’s good to know.” My own mouth curves into a cold, malicious grin. “Very good.”
Skylar and Alessandro join us. Alessandro holds his hand out for Skylar to shake. Right when Skylar’s fingers wrap around Alessandro’s, my friend speaks. “You look like her, you know.”
Skylar jerks back as if he’s been slapped. “What?”
“Your sister. You look like her.”
Skylar looks frozen. Startled. I immediately walk to his side and wrap a protective arm around him.
His gaze whips over to mine, our eyes locking.
He leans heavily against me, but doesn’t say anything.
It dawns on me then; I still don’t know her name.
Every time Skylar mentions her, it’s just ‘my sister,’ but now, the way I see his reaction, I wonder if he’s withholding her name on purpose.
I glance at Alessandro, silently seeking answers. But there’s a sad look on his face as he continues to stare at my man. “I hope Franko gets everything he deserves,” he says, tone hushed.
The drive home is a quiet one, but at least Skylar isn’t pulling away, not exactly. Instead, he peers out the window, staring off into the night, all the while his fingers trace comforting patterns onto the back of my neck.
If he doesn’t want to say her name out loud, then there’s probably a reason. Either way, I’ll be here for him when he’s ready to talk.