“It’s not that fucking simple, old man. She’s hanging out with the Strykers. I can’t get close enough to talk to her, let alone drug her and bring her home to Italy,” the first man growls. His words fill me with sickness, and I know why Asher didn’t want me to hear this. He was trying to protect me from the awful truth. The reality of what my papa is willing to do to bring me home.
“Find a way.” My papa’s voice booms down the line. “The girl’s hardly intelligent. She will leave herself vulnerable sometime, and when she does, you need to be there, ready to pounce.” His voice is sharp and harsh, scary in a way I have never heard it sound before. “I have a motherfucking wedding booked in for three weeks’ time, and it’s not going to happen without the bride. That will be a motherfucking problem for both of us when he doesn’t get what he wants.”
That part makes me flinch. I knew he would want me to marry again as soon as he knew Valentine was dead, but he’s already planning the wedding? The weight of his words crash down on me like a ton of bricks, and I take hold of the desk to stop from going down when my head spins, Asher’s firm hold not enough. Who is the “he” they are talking about?
“Do I make myself clear? He comes after me, you will be next,” my papa growls out when the other guy doesn’t say anything back.
“I-l’ll find her,” he stutters, sounding like he’s about to shit himself. I never knew my papa to be someone who was feared, but inreality, I guess I never knew him all that well at all. The man I grew up with would never have done this to me.
“Report back to me when she’s on the plane.” My papa disconnects the call, and the line goes dead.
A searing pain courses through me, making my heart constrict. My nails dig into the wooden desk. How dare he. All my life I have been made to feel less-than, just a silly girl. But this—this is unforgivable. There is no way in hell I will go back to Italy and marry whoever it is he picked out for me.
Asher’s hand comes to my back, and he turns me so I’m pulled into his chest. He holds me close, so close his comforting scent wafts all around me like a safe cocoon. “I know that couldn’t have been easy to hear, princess. And I wish it were the worst part, but there is more.”
I suck in a breath, trying to get my emotions under control. I hate my papa. I did this once for him, married Valentine Moretti to save him and my ma’s life. I was beaten and treated like a fucking possession for five years, and when I finally break free, he wants me right back in that life of suffering again. No fucking chance in hell. I glance up at Asher for the first time in my life, wondering if he will be the man to save me. I know I shouldn’t need a hero, but I’m not living a normal life. No matter how hard I try to fight it, the mafia still owns me. “How much more could there be?”
“The scumbag working for your papa made another call right after this one,” Mal says.
I glance back at Mal as he presses play on the screen.
Before the man on the phone says anything, he bursts out in a deranged cackle. “I have your solution wrapped up in a nice, pretty bow,” says the man who was talking to my papa, his voice more erratic now, more playful, like he knows this man well. He’s not scared of him like he was of my papa.
“I’m listening,” comes the other person, their voice a dark growl.
“The Stryker brothers have a girl staying with them. She belongs to a very wealthy Italian family who are offering a million dollars to get her back. I took on the job, but only problem is, I can’t be seen in their territory, and the only way to get close to her is through that fucking club, The Raven’s Nest. She’s dancing there.”
“Hmm. You want me to use my membership to get access to her?”
“Yeah, get close to her, pay for a lap dance or some shit. Slip her a sedative and get her out of town to me. I’ll do the rest.”
“I want fifty percent,” the other man growls.
Even more sickness fills me. Tears well in my eyes as hopelessness overwhelms me. They’re talking about me like I’m a thing. Not a human with feelings.
“Done deal. Whatever happens to her while she’s out of it can be the icing on the cake. I just need her alive and on a plane by the end of the week. We both know you have been waiting for this opportunity to seek petty revenge on those fuckers for what they did to your brother. What better way than stealing their girl from right under their noses?” A bitter laugh comes down the line that has me gagging, then Mal stops the recording.
I dry-retch, trying to focus on the desk in front of me to stop from actually vomiting my breakfast all over Jagger’s office. My head spins, and Asher is right there, supporting me, rubbing my back gently. But nothing will take this feeling away. Nothing ever. How could anyone be so cruel? “What the hell did you do to this guy?” I whisper into the now very silent room.
“I’ll let Jagger explain that one,” Mal mutters back as he closes the recording.
But Asher just stares back at me, his eyes filled with pain. “I’m so sorry, little princess. You have to know we won’t let either of them get their hands on you.”
I gape back at him. I’m trying to find words, but sickness is overtaking any part of my brain that can form a sentence. My papa has sold me out to the worst possible evil, and he doesn’t even care. All I’m good for is leverage in his next business deal.
“You can see why we had to let you hear this for yourself,” Mal offers, his face kinder now.
“Because Jagger has already made the decision that I won’t be going back to work,” I mutter.
Asher’s eyes are filled with sympathy. “Not until we catch the second guy, anyway.”
My eyes go wide, and a strange new feeling comes over me. “You have the first guy?” I swallow the lump in my throat.
Mal presses a button, and the large glass window across from us comes to life. I can make out a room, a concrete space that’s mostly empty with just a chair in the center. A man sits slumped over, his hands bound to the arms of the chair. A jade-green snake tattoo slithers its way from his wrist up to his concealed biceps. This is why Jagger was in such a rush to get down here this morning. Also explains what happened to Asher’s fists and why he has blood all over his shirt. They have beaten the shit out of this guy. From the way he’s head is hanging low, he looks half dead already.
I glance at Asher. Part of me didn’t think he had it in him. He’s so carefree, so playful most of the time. “You… What are you going to do with him?”
“Get some answers about the mystery man he was talking with. That fucker has a membership at Sloane’s club and is out for revengeon us. A very dangerous combination when lots of innocent women are at risk.”
