I’m not going to lie. I was raised in a cruel, hard world that’s only grown crueler the longer I’ve sucked the life from its veins, but my daughter’s tired giggles are enough to bring the strongest man to his knees. It’s perfectly balanced like she isn’t being raised by a group of dead men walking amongst the living.
Although I could stare at Fien’s smiling face for a lifetime, hearing her laugh for the first time doesn’t dampen my wish to find her. If anything, it triples my determination. “Smith—”
“On it. I’ll pass on any findings ASAP.” Eager to get to work, he disconnects our call before remotely logging into my phone.
I take a few minutes to gather my bearings before locking my eyes with Clover’s. Roxanne’s sigh of relief is more audible than Rocco’s when I wordlessly instruct Clover to lower his weapon. He isn’t happy about my request, but he does as he is told.
All hired hitman do.
Once Rocco has slipped back into his spot next to Roxanne, I ask a question no amount of anger could have me setting aside, “How did you know they’d respond so fast?”
Rocco’s lips twitch in preparation to respond, but before he can, Roxanne gabbles out, “Because your daughter’s captor is a woman.”
Chapter Fifteen
Roxanne
Dimitri stares straight at me. Even in the shadows of a near moonless night, I can’t miss the tight clench of his fists and jaw. His aura is unnerving, but since his menace isn’t directly focused on me this time around, it doesn’t make me quiver like it did earlier. The shudder of my thighs is now more a positive shake than a negative one. He’s watching me like he did in the alleyway a year ago, appearing as if he wants to join in but never will.
At least now I understand the reasoning behind his withdrawn demeanor. He isn’t just dark and dangerous, he’s fighting not to be as cruel as the people holding his daughter hostage. I doubt he’d hold back the urge if she were safe and in his arms. He wants to maim the people responsible for the scars no number of good looks will hide, and in all honesty, I can’t blame him. After hearing his daughter’s giggles, I want to do the exact same thing, and I haven’t even seen her yet.
“How do you know her captor is a woman?” Dimitri asks while staring at me as if I’m the only person seated across from him.
“She’s jealous and acting out. All traits of a scorned woman.” I wet my dry lips before asking a question I guarantee he’s never been asked before. “Did you cheat on your wife?”
“This isn’t a custody dispute.” His words are fired out of his mouth like bullets. “I saw Fien removed from Audrey’s stomach in a dirty, unsterile room. No amount of money would have a mother putting her child in danger like that.”
Although I agree with him, his skirting of my question won’t get us anywhere. “I didn’t ask if the kidnapper was your wife. I asked if you cheated on her.”
He’s pissed about my line of questioning, but since the safe return of his daughter is more important than anything, he lets it slide. “Yes, I cheated on her. Multiple times.”
“Did she know?”
I have no clue why I asked that question. It will make no difference to my assumption whatsoever. I’m just curious to discover if he’s a man who cheats and lies about it, or does he parade it around for the world to see.
Dimitri adjusts the expensive-looking cuffs on his sleeves, something he seems to do when frustrated, before muttering, “It wasn’t something we openly discussed, but she was aware of my inability to keep my dick in my pants.”
“And the woman you cheated with? Did they know?” This set of questions has a direct correlation with the theory I’m running. If any of the women he slept with while married experienced half the jealousy I’m being bombarded with now, they could have gone as far as kidnapping his wife and taking his daughter. I want to stab a bitch, and Dimitri isn’t even mine.
“Know what, exactly?” His voice is so menacing, I peer down at his gun, anticipating for him to curl his finger around the trigger at any moment.
When that fails to happen, I answer, “That you were married and expecting a child. Some women are very possessive. They may not have taken the news well.”
I’m talking from experience more than assumptions. My high school boyfriend’s strut was never the same when I caught him kissing Belinda McCotter in the bleachers during the homecoming week game.
I begin to wonder how many women Dimitri has slept with when he pauses to consider a response. I can’t see the women he’s mentally ticking off, but I can see the flicker of his eyes as he scrolls through his little black book of bed companions. It makes me insanely jealous.
“Most were aware, but some were not,” he answers a short time later.
“Do you think any of them would be capable of doing something like this?”
His lips furl at the corners. “I don’t know. I wasn’t with them to conduct a psych exam.” His eyes snap to Rocco’s so quickly, he misses my scoff. “I thought you said she was a double business major.”
Rocco’s scrub of his jaw to hide his grin is pointless when I mumble, “I can be anything you want for the right amount of coin.”
With his eyes back on me, Dimitri arches his brow. “You want me to pay for your help?” When I nod, he slouches low in his chair before shaking his head. “Why would I do that?” I’m about to sell myself in a way that would make Estelle proud, but he continues talking, foiling my attempt. “I don’t need to pay you to do anything. I can just force you to do it.”
“It wouldn’t be authentic.” I take a mental note to have my head examined after this. I just witnessed a murder, and I’m reasonably sure the timer above my head is minutes from expiring, yet here I am, negotiating with a mobster. I’ve been in such a rut I’d do anything for an adrenaline high, but still, this is ridiculous. “It would be more believable if I were there via my own choice.”
“Where of your own choice?” Dimitri asks, humoring me with fake interest.
He isn’t laughing on the outside, but I can see the chuckles he’s struggling to hold in his rising and falling chest. It’s heaving the same way it did when Eddie ‘milked my loins of their nectar.’
Usually, any type of laughter would have me backtracking on every decision I’ve ever made. I can’t do that this time around. We’re still heading toward the woods. My life is on the line, so I either sell my soul to the devil or relinquish it for nothing.
I don’t know about you, but I’d rather go out fighting.
“On your arm. By your side.” I swallow the brick lodged in my throat before muttering, “In your bed.”
My lungs fail to follow the prompts of my brain when Dimitri scoots to the edge of his seat. He moves so close to me, even if I wanted to press my thighs together from his hot, heated stare, I wouldn’t be able to. His knee is wedged between them. “Once again, why would I pay you to do that when I could make you do it for free?”
My ability to reply is lost by the thick, accented voice of the heavily tattooed man sitting next to me. I haven’t caught his name yet, but he has a tattoo of a clover on his cheek. “It’s the curse of the golden pussy, boss. All girls think they have one.” As he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, he drags his eyes down my body in a slow and dedicated sweep. “It’s rare to find one who does, but she might have one. Her smell is sweet enough.” He releases his lip with a pop before straying his eyes to Dimitri. “Maybe you should give her to the boys for a few rounds, see if they think her pussy is worth paying for.”