I winked. “No worries. I don’t mind being hit on by a beautiful woman.”
She flashed me one last dazzling smile as I stepped away. “Have a great night, Rachel.”
I turned toward the elevators just as the doors dinged open. Stepping inside, I exhaled slowly, rolling my shoulders. The flirtationhad been a necessary distraction—keeping her too flustered to ask questions, to second-guess why I was here.
But now?
Now, it was time to finish this.
Room 897.
I strode down the hallway, my boots silent against the plush carpet, every step fueled by the fire burning in my chest. The moment I reached the door, I knocked—firm but measured. Then I stepped to the side, just out of view of the peephole.
A beat of silence.
Then, the door cracked open.
I didn’t hesitate.
I lunged, driving my fist straight into his nose. The sickening crunch of cartilage shattering beneath my knuckles sent a sharp thrill through me as he stumbled backward, crashing to the floor with a strangled yell.
“The fuck—” He clutched his bleeding nose, eyes wild with shock as he scrambled back.
I kicked the door shut behind me, sealing us inside.
“Nice to see you again, Richard.” I loomed over him, watching him writhe on the ground like the pathetic coward he was.
His breath came in ragged gasps as he glared up at me, blood dripping between his fingers. “I’ll press charges, you psycho! How the hell did you find me?”
I clicked my tongue, smiling down at him. “Because rich assholes like you are predictable.” I crouched down, letting my voice drop into something far more dangerous.
“And you’d be surprised what people are willing to do for a man in uniform.”
Richard spits blood onto the floor, his lips curling into a twisted grin. “You think you scare me just because you were trained to shoot people to survive?”
I step closer, my voice cold. “No. But you should be.”
Richard wipes the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes locked onto mine. “I’ve been surviving since I was a kid, Nick. When my father put his hands on me, I learned fast—fear is stronger than freedom. And you know what’s better than both?” His grin widens, dark and taunting. “Money.”
I glare at him, my fists clenched.
He laughs under his breath. “Money buys control. Power. And right now, I control everything. Michelle isn’t coming back to me because she wants to—she’s coming back because I have the money, and Melanie lied. She told Michelle she made it all up.” He tilts his head. “So don’t think for a second that Michelle’s with me because she believes I’m innocent. Her fear of losing me and the life I gave her is stronger than her need for freedom. She’s with me because she thinks her daughter is a liar.”
I lunge before he can take another step, grabbing his shirt and yanking him toward me. “You sick fuck.” My voice is a growl, my rage barely contained. “Melanie is too scared to press charges because she doesn’t want to hurt her mother. But I don’t give a damn. If you don’t agree to this, there won’t be a need for a trial—because I’ll kill you myself.”
Before he can react, I spin him and lock my arm around his throat. He gasps, clawing at my arm, struggling against my hold. My pulse pounds in my ears, adrenaline flooding my system like a drug I know all too well.
“L–let—me—go,” he chokes out.
I tighten my grip. “You’re going to give Michelle the divorce she wants. You’re going to compensate her and Melanie with ten million dollars for every ounce of pain you put them through. And you’ll write a letter admitting what you did.” I lean in, my lips nearly brushing his ear. “Capisce?”
His body goes limp, his fight fading. I shove him away, letting him collapse to the floor, gasping and coughing. I watch him, ready to reach for my weapon if he so much as twitches wrong. Then, through ragged breaths, he chuckles—a low, amused sound. “I’ll do no such thing, Niccolo.”
My jaw clenches so tight it aches. “That right?”
He pushes himself up, straightening his shirt with an air of arrogance that makes my fingers twitch with the urge to break his nose. “You think you’re the only one who knows how to playdirty?” His smirk is ice-cold. “I know a guy who’d love to put a bullet in your head. And all I have to do is name my price.” He pauses, letting the words sink in. “Diablo ring a bell?”
A chill runs down my spine.Diablo. Fuck.If Richard knows that name, then he knows too much.
