Chapter 47
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RAYDEN (27YRS)
Two days later, I eyed my cousin over the whiskey he’d handed me. He agreed to meet at Incognito for a chat and I’d just offloaded everything that went down since our last meet up. Zayne was also there. While had I the urge to pummel his face into the wall, grew, Trent reassured me that Zayne’s intentions weren’t as debased as I thought. I waited to hear his side of the story, my fists still clenched in anticipation of sucker punching the man until he apologized. Yet, that permanent scowl he seemed to wear, told me I’d have a better chance at flicking dust off his jacket than landing a fist to any part of his body.
“So, Zena fucked you over?” Trent shook his head, a mixture of disgust and shock written all over his face.
“That pretty much sums it up.” I set my glass down on the coffee table.
“Jesus, Ray, I feel for you, man and I’m glad she didn’t fight you on the baby. How’s the little guy doing, though?”
I shrugged. “Between Kyra, Sianna, Tamara and grandma, I don’t think he has a moment to miss his mother. “And having Nina there helps, she’s the one constant in his life.”
“Yeah, when those women get together, I pity any man let alone a baby and don’t get me started on when Ashrika visits,” Trent grunted. “It’s like the fucking carb war on a man’s stomach. So many fine dishes and one small intestine. Fuck, now I’m craving food.”
Laughing, I flicked my gaze to Zayne. “You want to tell me your side?”
“Shit happens.” He lifted his glass to me, that grin annoying the hell out of me. “All in good time and I know you’re impatient as fuck.”
“What does that mean?”
Trent chuckled, watching the two of us. “He’s waiting for—”
“Me.”
I looked up as Remo, all smirks and ‘fuck you’ confidence, strode into the office. Stunned, I floundered for just a moment unsure whether he knew about Lorenzo and me. I hadn’t mentioned that part of my soap opera to Trent yet. Gulping down my whiskey in one swift go, I cringed at the abrupt burn down my throat. Like my father said, good alcohol deserved to be savored not tossed back like cheap tequila on fuck night.
“What are you doing here?” I finally found my voice, my words not as inviting as Trent’s greeting.
“Nice to see you too, pussface,” Remo scoffed. I rolled my eyes, glad to see we were back to the name calling. “You wanted answers according to Trent, so speak now or forever hold your shit.”
Dragging a hand down my face, I shook my head. “How the fuck do you live with yourself?”
“If I tell you, I’d have to kill you.” He grinned, further annoying me.
Even though I hated to admit it, Remo Rossi was a force to be reckoned with. Serious as fuck when he needed to be and a real ball of sarcasm for the times he considered himself funny. Austin and him would make quite the pair at a boring party.
“So, what do you want know.” He downed his whiskey like a pro and dropped into a seat opposite me.
“Let’s start with how you two know each other.” I pointed to him and Zayne.
“Not important.” Remo shrugged.
Expecting that answer, I moved to the next question. “How did Lorenzo know I was on my way to the island?”
Zayne and Remo shared a quick look before Zayne answered. “I was under the impression the D’Angelo’s kidnapped Zena. Only when I got you to the island and saw the chopper, did I figure it was the Rossi’s. I called Remo and asked him what happened. He gave me the run down I needed and asked me to leave you there. Case closed.”
I straightened, fury painting a stiff path down my spine. “Case not fucking closed.” I turned to Remo. “Why did you ask him to leave me there?”
His gaze flicked from Zayne to Trent then me. “Does he know about you and Lorenzo?” He gestured to Trent and my body went up in a smoke that no fire alarm could signal.
“Are you talking about the kidnapping?” Trent asked.
“No,” Remo replied, his tone strait-laced.
