Page 120
I give her sixty seconds. Then ninety.
I turn my back and walk confidently down a hallway until I know I’m alone. “You say something right now, or I’m coming down.”
Nothing.
I take the stairs and look in every doorway, but it’s vacant down here. They’ve brought the women upstairs, but down here, the auction is the only thing anyone is interested in.
The lobby is for people who want to be seen. The service corridor runs the length of the building behind the kitchen and comes out at the loading bay. There’s a fire door, and a—
I hear a voice. I pause, gauging where it’s coming from. It sounds vaguely familiar, but I don’t recognize it. There’s a faint Italian accent.
“He can’t know it came from me.”
The voice is in a darkened room a few paces ahead. If I walk any closer, whoever it is will see me, but here… I can see the reflection in the window, the glass like a mirror. If he turns just a little to the left, I’ll see his face.
“If he runs it back through the account, he’ll have me in the ground and Lorenzo beside me, McCarthy.”
McCarthy?
I stop where I am. I have to find out who this is. I stand still, holding my breath.
“If I tell them now, you know exactly what will happen. I can’t—” He’s getting angry, whoever this is, right before he curses in Italian.
Italian.
He turns left, and I see the memorable face of Giuseppe Esposito in the plate glass.
I’ll kill the motherfucker. I’ll kill him.
My hand is on my gun before I’m even in the room. I get two seconds of stunned silence before he reaches for his own gun, but it’s too late. I’ve got him by the throat, pinned against the door. “Move, and I’ll pull this trigger so fucking fast.” I’m breathing heavy, counting the seconds, half hoping he’ll give me a chance to murder him.
“Torin,” he says, loud enough for the other person to hear my name.
“Who’s on the other line?”
“Declan, of course,” he says, palms up. “You need to hear the whole of it. There’s an account my father accessed twice a year, and he hasn’t—”
“I don’t fucking care about your father’s account. I care about your sister, who’s somewhere in here, vulnerable and alone.”
He goes still, his eyes sharp. “What do you know about where she is?”
“As if I’d tell you anything. Who the fuck do you think you are?” I give him a hard shake.
“I’m Valentina Esposito’s brother, and you’ll fucking tell me where she is,” he snarls.
“Why? So you can put her back on the fucking auction block?”
His face is a mask of fury. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about. If you were behind any of this—”
A woman screams in the hallway. Is that her? It’s enough of a distraction that he slips out of my grip, draws his gun, and points it straight at me.
“Lower your weapon.”
“Suck my fat dick, you prick.”
“Where is she?” he roars as we pace, weapons drawn at each other.
“That’s what I’m asking you!”
