My underboss ushers me inside the building with my friends at my back. “We found something at the penthouse you need to look at.”
“We’re coming too,” Caleb says. His expression tells me not to bother arguing.
When we reach the penthouse, John Angelo is there, wearing a stern look. Wordlessly, he hands me a tablet, and we crowd around it, watching Vincenzo enter Sloane’s bedroom door a few hours ago. “I cropped the video,” John Angelo explains as it flips forward fifteen minutes to the point where Vincenzo steals out of the room. “By pure chance, I was in the control room earlier when this happened, and I copied the video to my phone. Vincenzo wiped it from the official log, and I didn’t say anything to him, so he’s none the wiser. I filled Umberto in. He’s with Vincenzo in the apartment now. He’ll ensure he doesn’t leave.”
“Well done. That was smart thinking.”
“His reaction to Sloane that last day has been preying on my mind, so I’ve been watching him.”
Remorse fills my mouth. I kept Vincenzo back to rip him a new one for interrupting me when I was questioning Sloane that Monday, and I should have suspected something. Since all this went down, I’m definitely off my game, and I can’t afford any more fuckups.
“What was he doing in her room?” I ask.
“Come see.” Dano leads the way to Sloane’s bedroom. I hesitate for a second before stepping inside. The room smells like her perfume, and acid burns my throat when my gaze lands on the slight stain on the hardwood floor where she bled.
“This was lying on the bed.” Dano points to a cell phone enclosed in a clear ziplock bag.
“It wasn’t there before,” John Angelo adds. “I came into her room after she left it, and there was no phone on the bed.”
“I dusted it for prints and already sent it to the lab,” Dano confirms.
“I’ll make a call and get them to prioritize it.” Gia leaves the room to talk in the hallway.
“Did you try to switch it on?” Joshua asks.
My number two shakes his head before looking at me. “I didn’t want to touch it until I’d talked to you.”
“The lab has moved it to the top of the pile,” Gia says, coming back into the bedroom. “From the initial inspection, it looks like there are several different prints on it.” Donning a pair of plastic gloves, Gia removes the phone from the bag.
Tension is palpable in the air as she switches it on. There is no security, which in itself is strange, and the message inbox loads automatically, displaying three recent unread messages.
“That prick must be working with Carmine and the cartel,” Caleb hisses. “He wanted you to find this.”
“If he’s watched the cameras, he knows I haven’t stepped foot in here since the day Sloane left. He assumes I’ll think she left this here for me to find.” I crack my knuckles, prepping them for the beatdown that’s coming when I get my hands on the rat.
“It’s all video messages,” Gia supplies. “Let’s watch from the top down.”
I brace myself as she presses play on the first video, but nothing could’ve prepared any of us for this. No one speaks as we watch Sloane’s mother being beaten and viciously assaulted by Pablo Fuentes and multiple other men.
“Maybe you should sit this one out, honey.” Joshua implores Gia with his eyes as her finger hovers over the second video.
“I won’t shy away from this.” She presses the button, and the next video plays.
“Oh fuck.” My hand covers my mouth, and pain spears me through the chest as I watch Pablo beat the life out of Sloane’s mother, Robin. Horrified expressions are traded around the room as we watch his men defile her body long after the light is gone from her eyes.
I’ve seen a lot of vile things in my life, but this is pure evil. Thank God, Sloane didn’t see this.
Gia thrusts the phone into Caleb’s hand when Pablo starts fucking the corpse and dashes into the bathroom. Joshua runs after her. Sounds of throwing up filter into the bedroom as the four of us watch Pablo grinning at the camera like the psycho he is.
“I want his head,” Caleb snarls when the video dies.
“He’s mine,” I grit out. Panic sluices through my veins as thoughts I’ve worked so hard to ignore rush to the surface of my mind. This prick cannot get his hands on Sloane. Fear for what he’ll do to her squashes every other thought in my head.
Caleb hits play on the last video.
“DiPietro.” Pablo’s guttural tone rings out around the room. “I hope you enjoyed the show. Your son might have slipped through my clutches for now, but we’ll get him. We’ll get all of them. Cruz will be turning in his grave when he sees what we plan for his offspring. But you.” He puts his face all up in the screen. “You’ll be living a nightmare when I get my hands on your pretty whore. What you witnessed is nothing compared to the plans I have for my little American Barbie. I’m going to cut her, fuck her, break her. Let my men use her. Bring her to the brink of death over and over, but never let her die. If you’re a good boy, I’ll send you some videos. Something to jerk off to on cold, lonely nights.”
A roar tears from my mouth as everything I’ve tried to keep contained breaks free, ripping me apart from the inside as I lose it.
