Rocco is protecting her like he failed to do his mother.
The fact I contemplate the carry-on effect Rocco’s death would cause my empire reveals how badly I’m spiraling. Tell me one man who wouldn’t get a little fucked in the head right now? I haven’t had confirmation of Fien’s well-being for almost nine months, then, suddenly tonight, a mere three hours before Roxanne shows up out of nowhere, a request for ransom drops into my inbox. Her proof-of-life video was grainy, and it was only four seconds long, but there’s no doubt in my mind it was Fien.
Not in a million years would I forget her face.
After working my jaw side to side, I breathe out, “She didn’t turn up tonight for no reason. Roxanne is a part of this.”
“I’m not,” she denies with a shake of her head at the same time Rocco spits out, “Yeah, that’s probably true. But is it via her choice? Or is she being forced into a fight she doesn’t belong in?”
When confusion darts through my eyes, Rocco gets smug. “You’re always racing ahead, Dimi, leaving nothing but a trail of destruction in your wake.”
He said a similar thing when I told him I was marrying Audrey in a civil ceremony hours after she told me she was pregnant. He wanted me to hold off for a few months, citing there was no need to rush since Fien wasn’t due for another eight months. I could have listened to him, but as he said, I’m always racing ahead.
“He could be onto something.” Clover shifts the bulk of his heavy frame to the edge of his seat before he hands me a ripped piece of paper. “I found this in her purse when I rummaged through her things.”
After gauging Roxanne’s reaction to her privacy being invaded, which I’m shocked to say barely altered, I drop my eyes to a set of handwritten instructions on what looks to be part of a university letterhead. The word ‘interview’ scribble at the top has been underlined three times, revealing the person jotting down the details was excited they’d been granted one.
My anger shifts to confusion when my eyes skim the interviewer’s name. It reveals I was supposed to interview Roxanne at my family’s restaurant at the exact time Fien’s ransom request landed in my inbox.
I drift my eyes back to Roxanne’s watering ones. She’s scared—there’s no doubt about that—but she’s also curious, and if I’m not mistaken, angry. Her emotions appear as uncontrolled as mine. “Who sent you this?”
The bangs I pushed aside when I was certain I was dreaming fall back into place when Roxanne shakes her head with a shrug. “An employment agency?”
Her blasé response agitates me to no end. The last time I took the focus off Fien for this long, I lost sight of her for nine months.
I won’t let that happen again.
“You didn’t think to ask who they were?”
Unsure where my fury stems from, Roxanne shakes her head. “I’m so desperate for a job, I don’t ask questions. I just accept any interview offered.”
Even with the rattle of her vocal cords chopping up her words, I’m confident she’s telling the truth.
People are more honest when they’re in fear of their life.
“Smith—”
“Already on it,” he says down the line, his thick voice vibrating through my phone’s speakers. “I’ll have every number that’s called her cell for the past year in five… four… three… two—”
My eyes snap to the side when Rocco blurts out, “It was me. I organized her interview.”
Just as quickly as my eyes rocket to Rocco, they dart to Roxanne. She appears as shocked by his confession as me, meaning I can shift the focus of my gun to Rocco’s head despite my gut begging for me to reconsider.
“You’re playing me? I made you who you are. I’ve given you everything you have, but now you fuck me over.”
Red hot anger scorches through me when I consider exactly how long he’s playing me for a fool. We’ve been friends for over two decades. We skipped school together in the eighth grade. Was he a traitor back then? Or only when the gleam of money became too bright for him to ignore?
“Did you take my daughter, Rocco? Did you cut her from my wife’s stomach!”
A numbed expression crosses his face. “No, Dimi, fuck! I organized Roxanne’s interview so you could see Fien again, so you’d have the chance to get her back.”
Nothing he’s saying makes any sense. How could forcing Roxanne back into my life help me get Fien back? She’s the reason I lost everything to begin with.
I stare at Rocco like he’s disturbed when he mutters out a name I never anticipated hearing right now. “Justine.” Nothing but remorse is seen on his face when he adds, “Your ruse was working, Dimi. When you had Justine on the go, Fien’s ransoms arrived like clockwork. They were never late, and you were given undeniable proof that she was safe every single month.” He works his jaw side to side, his anger as noticeable as mine. “That hasn’t happened in nine months, D. You haven’t had a single ransom request—”
“I got one earlier today.”
The truth smacks into me like a wayward missile a mere second before Rocco spells it out for me. “Because I organized Roxie’s interview at your favorite hook-up location two weeks after placing a photo of you together on your social media accounts.”
“Jesus Christ, Rocco, you didn’t tell me it was for this,” Smith says down the line at the same time Clover pinches his gun to Rocco’s temple, aware he’s more of a threat right now than Roxanne.
“I’m just going for my phone,” Rocco assures Clover, frustrated and fighting the urge to retaliate. For the most part, they get along, but it hasn’t always been that way. Clover is a member of my crew because he’s paid for the privilege. Rocco is here of his own free will. He was here before the money came, and if I don’t kill him for his deceit, he’d be here even if we lost it all. “See.”
He swivels his phone around to face me. It has a photo of me carrying Roxanne out of the ravine. Because it was taken at an angle, it appears as if we’re fooling around instead of Roxanne being on the brink of death. You can’t see her blood-stained face or body, just the grip I have on her ass to keep her on my shoulder while sprinting out of the scrub.
My brows pinch when Rocco demands that I check my email. “What?” He smiles, clearly blind to how precariously his life is floating in the wind. “I want to see how fast they react. I bet your numerous requests for a better proof of life for Fien tonight has been answered now. My latest upload to the Dimitri and Roxie show has been in the wild the past ten minutes.”
He shows me a second image. Just like the first one, the angle is badly deceiving. It looks like I’m about to kiss Roxanne instead of strangling her like I almost did ten minutes ago. “What’s the bet an email dropped into your inbox within the last eight minutes.”
Too curious to discount, I hit the email app on the screen of my phone. I know what I’m going to find before I discover it. Smith’s silence is telling enough, much less the brutal drum of my heart against my ribs.
Rocco was right. My three requests for a better proof of life were answered precisely seven minutes ago. The footage is double the length of the last one, and it’s crystal clear. It even has sound this time around.