Page 34 of Rising from the Ashes

“You’re mine.” He croaks out, “I will burn this city down for you.”

His hands find the sides of my face, his eyes lock on mine as his voice shakes. “I would walk through the fires of hell to save you again, even if that means I burn for eternity.”

The words ring in my ears as if it were an alarm. Fear washes over me, knowing that we will soon be facing a war against my father.

Chapter ten

Shado

Slipping out from under the sheets, so as not to disturb Calista, I quietly pad over to where I set my burner phone. Knowing after yesterday’s surprise encounter with Enzo, Drake would be checking in.

Looking at the screen, I was right. Five missed calls and three text messages.

Reign: What the fuck happened?

Reign: If you’re not dead, meet me at Raven’s.

Reign: Damn it, Shado.

Shado: I’m on my way.

Reign: Oh, so you are alive.

Looking at the time on my phone, I notice it’s still early enough in the evening that Drake shouldn’t be completely intoxicated. Shaking my head that he chooses Edinburgh’s trashiest strip club for our meetups, I grab my helmet to walk out Calista’s front door. But not before I check to make sure she is still sleeping peacefully.

Pulling up to the camouflaged strip club, I walk around to the back alley entrance. Standing guard is one of Drake’s men, who instantly recognizes me. Nodding, he opens the door.

Loud, sensual R&B music floods my ears as I enter into the dimly lit smoky club. Scanning the room, I see Drake at his usual spot, front and center, amongst the regulars, watching one of the girls on the stage.

Walking over, I put my hand on his shoulder. When he looks up at me, he smirks, motioning for me to have a seat.

I shake my head, “I am not staying here. Meet me in the alley.”

Walking away, I can hear him grumbling behind me as he rises from the red velvet chair, his footsteps following close behind me.

Stepping out into the cool night air in the dark alley, I turn to face Drake. We’ve only communicated by phone for the last few months until Calista showed up dropping crime bosses left and right. He’s aged since the last time I saw him.

“This better be good, since I’m missing the show,” he huffs sarcastically, lighting a cigarette. Blowing the smoke in my direction, after he takes a drag.

I wave my hand in front of my face. “Damn it, Drake.”

“What have ya got for me? I already know Demassi is off the board and Craye has gone underground. Where are we with Everly and The Society?”

Hesitating, I try to avoid the subject.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, I ask, “What are you doing here, man? I’m doing the dirty work now, just go home to CiCi and Ari.”

Drake doesn’t frequent the strip club for the actual entertainment. He tolerates it because he knows this is where all of the intel will be buzzing once the alcohol starts flowing. What I hate is that he puts himself in danger with a wife and daughter at home. He’s one of the good guys.

“Why isn’t Calista Silvestri off the board?”

Before I can come up with an excuse, Drake throws his cigarette down. I can feel his stare burning into me.

“You’ve fallen for her? You son of a bitch. We don’t get involved with our work. At most they’re pieces of ass, then you kill them.”

“You fell for CiCi.” I point out.

“That’s fucking different. She was an informant. Not a crime boss’ daughter,” he growls defensively, clenching his fists.

---