He wanted too badly to follow and save Ariana from the witch. But his business needs tending to right now. There will be another time to find out what the fuck is going on there.
“Take the job,” Stella says into the room. Her eyes are glued to the computer monitors. No doubt, the Romanos have left before she speaks.
“What?” Derrick asks, jumping out of his seat.
Rory and Chase step up to the desk too.
“Stella, nothing’s been announced and we’re already letting them call the shots?” Rory asks. “No fucking way!”
“Guys,” Stella says, addressing everyone in the room.
“She’s right,” he adds his support. “They’re going to keep calling the shots if we don’t take this job and make sure it’s known that unless there’s a fucking public wedding announcement on the front page of the newspaper, Romanos do NOT do business on our behalf.”
Stella nods at him in agreement. It never takes long for him to be on the same wavelength as his sister-in-law.
“Chase and I will personally handle this,” Derrick announces, catching on. “Brooks will come with us.”
“Brooks can’t go,” Stella informs them. “He’s on an assignment. But you can take one of the mercs. The other will be needed here with the kids until Brooks can get back.”
“Assignment?” he asks, now remembering the conversation about Brooks he had earlier with Derrick. “Is this something that we should know about? Because the man has been gone a while and he doesn’t leave your side longer than necessary.”
“It’s necessary,” Stella says before leaving the office.
Derrick stalks after his wife leaving him and his two younger brothers guessing what the fuck their newest King is up to now. Whatever it is, it’s either fucking brilliant or fucking merciless.
She’s in one of her moods and his demons are dying to know what carnage is going to lay in her wake.
Chapter Seven
“Hey, Adam!” Stella calls out to him.
He’d just gotten into bed after reading a few chapters of a fantasy novel with Jazzy so it’s quite a surprise that Stella is in his wing of the mansion.
“Doors unlocked!” he hollers out and gets comfortable in his bed anyway. He’s shirtless and didn’t even bother to put his t-shirt back on. It’s nothing that she hasn’t seen before anyway.
To further surprise him, Stella walks in with the touchscreen baby monitor in her hand and she’s dressed up, not down for bed. Usually, when Derrick is away for business like he is tonight, she’s the first to call it a night. So he’s looking her up and down, silently asking why the getup.
“Need company to keep your bed warm?” he teases her with a smile.
“Ha. Ha. I’m actually gonna step out with the girls for a couple of hours,” she tells him. She walks over and sets the monitor on his nightstand. “Rian is asleep and should sleep through the night. I have Pam sleeping with him. But just in case, do you mind keeping an eye on him?”
“Of course not,” he answers tentatively. “Something I should know about?” he asks suspiciously.
“No,” she replies with her usual air of ease. “Just…I need to let off some steam.”
She probably does. He had to agree with her there. They all do because everyone has been extra tense and fucking miserable since their trip back from Mazzilli’s estate. Even more miserable since Cristian and Isabella left dinner that night two weeks ago. Maybe he can suggest a family outing of sorts.
Then again, fucking Isabella might get wind of that and show up to that function as if she were invited.
“Stell,” he calls out to her before she reaches his door. “I’m here if you need me. You know that right?”
“Of course, Adam. Just…like I said. I need to let off some steam. Nothing feels better than these red bottoms on my feet, a quick drive through town and a few drinks with the girls. I’ll be back soon.”
With that, he can hear the click-clack of her heels down his hallway.
He knows Stella better than that. And she’s off her A-game if she believed for one second that he took her for her word.
He’s out of bed and throwing his t-shirt on immediately. He ditches his dad-pajama bottoms too and goes right to his closet for a pair of black jeans, unlocking his gun safe with the swipe of his finger as he slips one leg through and then the other.
“Mason!” he hollers out before he even makes it inside the office. Admittedly, he might have been too loud because Mason jumps in his seat. “Where is she going?”
“Thought you might ask,” Mason chuckles. “I just didn’t expect you down here this fast.”
He’s beside Mason at the desk and the lieutenant vacates the seat in front of the monitors for him.
“Seems she’s indeed heading to the club,” Mason says.
Both of their eyes are glued to the traffic cams’ feed as they watch Stella breeze through traffic in her Bentley.
He turns and looks at Mason with that ‘yeah right’ look.
“You’re right,” Mason replies. “She’s up to something. She’s been too quiet lately.”
He gets out of the chair and grabs the set of keys on top of the desk. It’s probably Mason’s keys but the man isn’t going to need them for a while anyway.
“You’re going to follow her?” Mason asks.
“Of course!” he barks and points at the screen. “I’ll call you from the car. Just let me know the details.”
He doesn’t wait for a response but runs out the front door. Thankfully, there’s a black Escalade parked right out front. Saves him from running around the house to find a car.
It takes him a good ten minutes before he gets to calling Mason though.
“She’s pulling around back at the Whiskey,” Mason tells him. “I won’t have eyes on her when she rounds that corner.”
“Why the fuck haven’t we put a camera there yet?” he growls.
He’s still a good ten minutes out. Maybe five if he really doesn’t give a shit about getting pulled over. Cops don’t usually run the plates and cut him loose until he gets pulled over though.
Fuck it. He floors the pedal anyway.
“Track her phone and see where she’s at,” he instructs Mason.
“Inside the club,” Mason replies not a minute later.
He taps his fingers on the steering wheel.
Maybe he’s making mountains out of molehills. Maybe she really just needs a girl’s night out.
Everything in his gut is telling him otherwise.
“Mason, track Brooks’s phone,” he orders when the thought comes to mind. Brooks, who hasn’t been seen in close to a month.
Mason doesn’t ask why but he can hear the clicking of the computer keyboard through the car speakers.
“Boss,” Mason calls out. “Seems he’s three blocks away from the Whiskey and is quickly heading north.”
“Feed me the directions,” he orders and accelerates again.
He’s venturing into McCullen’s turf now. Good thing they’re on good terms. If this were two years ago, things would be a lot different and he probably would have been stopped by the Irishman’s goons a block in.