His eyes widen with incredulity. “Did you hear what I said about starting a war?”
I shrug. “If it’s war they want, it’s war they’ll get.”
He stiffens. “Are you fucking serious? War will tear this city apart. And that’ll bring more heat than a few trafficked women.”
He’s right. New York would not appreciate me starting a war. I see the panic in his eyes. He doesn’t care about the city. His source of side income, his deal with the Bratva for a cut of their skin trade is in jeopardy. I’m sure of it. What he doesn’t know is, because of his betrayal, his shortened life span is about to get shorter.
When Gunnar and I hop back into the Range Rover, I immediately pull up the Tampa Times website on my phone. It’s on the front page, the photo Giada set up. Heat prickles under my skin. It looks like we are in a loving embrace.
“Fuck.”
I just hope Lennon doesn’t see this. Knowing I’m engaged is one thing. Seeing me sucking face with said fiancé five minutes after making her come is another.
Chapter 21
Lennon
It’s been a tortuous week. I have two new traumatized clients who I can’t get to open up to me. Pepper’s family has a new place to stay, which I’m happy for them, but the apartment is even lonelier when I get home.
I let Brick sign me up for the auction, but now that the day is here, I’m freaking out. And on top of that, I think I’m being followed.
I keep seeing a black Mercedes with tinted windows in front of my apartment and work. I would’ve chalked it up to coincidence, except it was parked on the curb Thursday night when Sloane and I exited my favorite consignment store, the Posh Kloset.
That was the only reprieve from the crappy week, shopping with Sloane for a dress. We hit the jackpot when I found a designer emerald green satin dress for a steal.
I’m slipping into said dress when Sloane arrives. We’re grabbing a quick dinner and drinks—A.K.A. liquid courage—before the auction. Probably lots of drinks so I don’t chicken out.
Chapter 22
Alessandro
I’m sitting at my desk in my office, drained after a call with my father. He was upset at first when I told him about burning down the Bratva whorehouse with their men inside, but as we talked he began to see the opportunity to chase them out of Tampa. Now he just has to sell it to the rest of The Commission.
We’re on the same page about one thing, though. He also finds it suspicious Santino met with Oleg without informing me.
Rocco saunters in. “Hey, big bro.”
I glance up at his tone. He’s dressed in a black tux, his wavy hair tamed and shiny, and an amused, mischievous glint in his gray eyes that usually means trouble. “What’s up?”
“Oh, just heading to that charity auction I told you about. The one where time with the who’s-who of hot single women will be for sale for a night.”
I narrow my eyes, not liking the devilish smirk curling his lip. “Okay.”
He wanders closer. “Well, I was checking out the merchandise on their website to see who I wanted to bid on.” He hands me his phone. “Thought you’d like to see the list.”
“Why would I give a shit?” I ask, though I take the phone and glance at it. I look back up at my brother. His nod tells me to look harder. With a sigh, I pinch the screen and enlarge the list. And her photo hits me like a bolt of lightning.
My spine stiffens.Lennon.“What the fuck,” I growl.
“Maybe she saw the photo of you and Giada. What do they say about a woman scorned?”
Before I can think it through, I bolt up and push my chair back, smacking Rocco’s phone into his chest.
He trails behind me, laughing softly as I head to my bedroom. “Does this mean you’re coming after all?”
“Just give me twenty minutes to shower and change.”
Rocco’s laughter echoes in the hallway. “Oh, this is going to be good.”
