A chill races up my spine. “Do you think it was the person who took me?”
“I don’t know,” he says, grabbing his jeans and pulling them up his muscular legs. “But according to my guys, it’s bad … really fucking bad.”
33
Matteo
As I watchthe officers sift through our shipments, thanks to an anonymous tip, I try my best to contain the rage that’s simmering below the surface.
As if my brother can sense I’m hanging on by a thread, he gives me a look that says to chill the fuck out, and I clench my fists, knowing he’s right.
When I got the call from one of the cops we had in our pocket, letting me know that shit was about to go down, it was too late to do anything but deal with the fallout.
The shipment, which was supposed to contain pharmaceuticals—legal, I might add—was flagged by maritime law enforcement, the Coast Guard assholes who are in charge of anything and everything related to the shipments when in the water.
They insisted on doing a check, and when the freight was opened, not only was the shipment missing the pharmaceuticals, but it was filled with various illegal drugs, such as cocaine, heroin, ecstasy, and Rohypnol.
South Florida Pharmaceuticals has a multimillion-dollar contract with our port, and it’s expected that their shipments will arrive safely and be prepped to be delivered to their warehouse.
“This is insane!” Ilan Cohen, the CEO of South FloridaPharmaceuticals, barks, glaring at Dominick. “I don’t know what happened, but someone needs to be held accountable for this.”
It’s the middle of the night, damn near two in the morning, yet Dominick and Ilan are both dressed in suits.
“And I’m going to look into it,” Dominick says, careful with what he says so as not to incriminate us. “But we didn’t have anything to do with it. The shipment onyourcargo ship was stopped in the water. We only accept the cargo.”
Ilan huffs, and the officer steps over to him.
“Ilan Cohen, you’re under arrest,” he says, taking his hands and placing handcuffs around his wrists.
Dominick shakes his head and scrubs his hand down his face, knowing this isn’t good. The shipment can’t be linked back to us, but that’s not the point. Whoever did this went out of their way to screw over one of our largest contracts. Once Ilan gets out of jail, he’s going to yank his contract with us, and then he’s going to tell everyone he knows what happened, tainting our reputation.
Dominick has busted his ass to legitimatize our businesses, and this stunt is going to set us way back. And those who use us for their illegal shipments will especially be spooked.
“You’re going to be hearing from my lawyers,” Ilan says as he’s hauled into the police car.
The next hour is filled with narcotic officers shutting the place down and bagging the evidence while we watch. Thankfully, at the moment, we don’t have anything incriminating on our premises, so they can’t arrest us.
Once they’ve finished questioning us and raiding the place, they take off, and our guys get to work, cleaning up the mess they left, leaving Dominick and me alone.
“Fuck!” I bark, punching the wooden crate that’s closest to me. It shatters into a dozen shards, but does nothing to quell the frustration I feel. “That fucking bitch …”
“You don’t know it’s a woman,” Dominick notes, always so goddamn calm.
“You don’t know it isn’t,” I retort. “Dani is the only one who’s seen this person, and she seems to think it was a female, so I’m not discounting it. But regardless, this bullshit stunt reeks of her.”
“We’ll get it sorted.” He sighs, but I can hear the devastation in his tone.
Every step of the way, someone is trying to sabotage us. Well, fuck that. This bitch wants to play games? I’ll play.
It’seight in the morning, but I haven’t been home or to bed yet. I’m determined to figure this shit out, and I won’t stop until I do. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but she must have left some kind of breadcrumbs behind, and I’m determined to find them.
Dani texted, making sure I was okay and said she was going into work. I wanted to demand she stay home, where it was safe, but it’s not fair to her if I put her entire life on hold. She has two guards with her, and she’ll be with her brother in a secure building.
“What are we looking for?” Scotty asks as we walk down the sidewalk along the intracoastal.
“I don’t know,” I tell him. “Call it a gut instinct.”
We’ve been walking for over an hour in the hot sun, but I can’t shake the feeling that we’re missing something.
