Against my better judgment, I sort help from a contact my family had many years ago when Audrey’s ransom note arrived at my office. Although he doesn’t follow the book to the letter of the law like his pompous counterparts, he still has too many rules and protocols for me to follow. He wants to get Fien back without bloodshed.
I’d rather endure a bloodbath than endure another long nine months pass without seeing my daughter in the flesh. Our opposing opinions don’t meld well, and they often find us placed on different teams. I guess that’s expected when one side of the duo works in law enforcement, and the other is well-known for his criminal ties.
“Call Joshua.” India hands a business card to Smith like he’s her personal assistant. “He’ll have the slug removed from the guard’s body before the coroner and will keep an eye on proceedings.” With her jaw as set as mine, she slumps low into her seat before twisting her torso to face me. “What was that about?”
I arch a brow, wordlessly suggesting she check her tone. I don’t know who the fuck she thinks she is, but she’s neither my wife nor my mother, so she has no right to badger me. If I want to watch a truckload of women being pleasured by men incapable of the task on a rainy Friday afternoon, so be it.
I can do whatever the fuck I like.
That’s the joy of being me.
Either stupid or hoping to die, India disregards my stern glare. “You can’t replace Audrey and Fien. It isn’t possible.”
“I know that.” I lean so close to her, her hot breaths take care of the droplets of rain on my face the towel missed. She isn’t worried. She’s excited she forced a response out of me. I rarely give her the time of day. This afternoon won’t be any different. “But that doesn’t mean Rimi Castro won’t believe that. Look at you, all rattled and upset thinking I’m moving on. Who’s to say he won’t reach the same conclusion?”
Because she’s fighting to keep a calm head, India’s accent comes out more pronounced than normal. I’m not exactly sure of her ancestry. I just know she’s foreign like Audrey. “I’m upset for Audrey, Dimi.” Calling me Dimi puts her in my shit book, only my friends are allowed to call me that, much less what she says next, “She doesn’t deserve to be replaced with a cheap, knock-off version of herself.”
“Shh.” I push her platinum blonde hair out of her eye before tucking it behind her ear. “No more lies. We both know you’re praying Audrey is never found.” When a flare of deceit fires through her eyes, I speak faster, “Just like you’ll forever wish we didn’t bump into her when we fumbled into your apartment after our date.” I track my thumb over her ruby-painted lips and across her jaw before stopping it at the throb in her throat. “It must have stung having her steal my attention the way she did.”
“She wasn’t supposed to be there,” India mutters before she can stop herself.
“But she was, and you were discarded… again.”
I take a second to suck in the fear slicking her skin before inching back with a smirk. India plays the role of a widower well, however her husband is only ‘presumed dead’ by her. From what Smith unearthed earlier this month, India’s husband is a foreign aristocrat with a fascination for little blonde playthings. Rumors are he tossed his wife aside with the hope his favorite whore will become the queen of his realm.
“Is that why Audrey was taken, India? Because you once again had your crown stolen?”
“Not at all,” she immediately fires back. She’s a damn good actor. Even someone trained to seek deceit would have trouble spotting hers. “I attended your wedding. I’m the one who encouraged you to get married so Audrey wouldn’t be deported—”
“And you were the last person to see her alive!” I’m back up in her face in an instant, my hand around her throat, my lips an inch from hers. “You told her to meet you at the restaurant.”
“Because I was hosting a surprise baby shower for her. I had no clue there were men there waiting for her. You didn’t even see them when you walked her to the door.” Her words are breathy and weak, strangled by the fierce clutch I have on her neck. I’m not just furious at her, I’m angry at myself. I glanced away for barely a second, and poof, Audrey was gone. “I would have never hurt her, Dimitri. She was my best friend… my only friend.”
I don’t want to believe her. I want to hang her out to dry as I’ve desired many times over the past nine months, but there’s too much truth in her eyes for me to ignore. Women like India and Audrey don’t make friends. They’re ridiculed for their beauty like they should be punished God gifted them with enticing features, and we won’t mention the fact they’re foreigners living in a country known for its disrespect of women. In my motherland, women are treated like goddesses. It’s one of the reasons my father rarely visits Italy.
After a few big breaths, I weaken my grip on India’s throat. Once I’ve worked my anger down a few notches, I sink back to my side of the bench seat before straightening the disheveled collar of my trench coat.
My clothes are drenched through, but you wouldn’t know it from the fiery heat teeming out of me. It’s so blistering hot, I’m confident I’ll be bone-dry in seconds.
Certain I’ve got everything in order, I stray my eyes to Smith’s side of the cabin. “Once you cleared the footage, commence implementing the ruse we discussed last week. Any chatter regarding me moving on is to come directly through me.”
“Understood.” Smith gets straight to work like he’s already cleared away the footage of the unknown blonde getting fingered in the alleyway and was dying for another task. He likes to keep busy. “Do you want the compound included in the catchment zone?”
India doesn’t move her head, but I can feel her eyes on me when I dip my chin. “Word got out about my marriage. It was a guarded secret, so either someone in this car is a snitch, or we have eyes and ears in unknown locations.” It sucks to admit you can’t trust your own blood, but this isn’t the first time I’ve felt this way. Why do you think I kept my relationship with Audrey a secret?
“And tonight’s plans?” India asks, jumping back into the conversation like she wasn’t almost choked to within an inch of her life.
I don’t look at her. I can’t. If I do, I’ll want to finish what I started. “Will continue as planned.” While tapping out a quick message to my father, telling him we’ll be delayed a couple of minutes since I stopped for some lighthearted entertainment, I add, “While you convince Miceli your husband’s claims about you disliking oral sex are fraudulent, Clover, Smith, Rocco, and I will convince his crew they’d rather settle anywhere but Hopeton.”
By convince, I mean we’ll get heavy. New York was run by three separate entities of the Italian Cartel, however Hopeton most certainly isn’t.
Famiglia prima di tutto… until it isn’t.
Chapter Four
Dimitri
Ignoring my cracked and bleeding knuckles, I raise a recently printed photograph of my daughter off a dust-coated desk. Unlike last month’s shotty and blurred image, this one shows every inch of Fien’s chubby cheeks, toothy grin, and birthmark-blemished stomach with precise clearness.