Page 69 of The Club

I get out of my car the instant Rocco’s van pulls up. Fucking finally. I’ve been losing my goddamn mind staring at that picture of Rafael with his lip bleeding and his eyes already empty because he knows what’s coming and doesn’t seem to care. Fuck him for accepting it like that.

I’ll beat his goddamn ass.

He lied to me too, blew me off.

But dealing with all that shit will have to wait until I deal with Moretti. I just did him a favor last night, so why the fuck did he grab my man?

That thought stalls me as I close my car door. I mean, yeah, Rafaelismine, but … that thought felt different.

I don’t have time to sort it out in my head. Rocco and four of his handpicked guys are crossing the street to join me.

“What the fuck took you so long?” I demand.

Every second Rafael spends with Moretti is a second too long. But I can’t go in there alone. A hard ass like Gianni Moretti requires a show of strength. Besides, shit might get ugly.

Rocco gives me a hard look. “Maybe if you’d knock it off with all this solo shit, your security would be with you instead driving halfway across the fucking city.”

Apparently, I need to beat his ass too if he thinks he can talk to me like that. Not that he’s entirely wrong.

I pin him with a glare as I lead the way to the parking garage entrance. “I’ll deal with you later.”

“Good. I’ll hold you to that.”

Dickhead. I haven’t been avoiding himthatmuch.

I use Rafael’s code to get into the parking garage. We walk past his Maserati and Ducati to the elevator, passing through both of its sets of doors into the sex club.

Guns in hand, we walk down one hallway then another. We move through the open space with the bar and stage to the stairwell door used by the staff. From there, we climb past the cellar to the door into the nightclub.

The door is solid, offering no view of what we’re about to walk into. I give quick orders.

“Rocco, you’re with me. Sal and Joe, you flank us. Tommy and Emilio, hang back to cover us and hold the door in case we need to run.”

Everyone nods. I open the door, and Rocco sweeps in ahead of me. I go through next, gun raised as I scan the scene.

Moretti’s men are strategically positioned around the nightclub. In the center of the room, one man holds a gun on Noah, who’s bound to a chair. Moretti has his 9 mil pressed to Rafael’s head.

Rafael jolts when he sees me. He didn’t know I was coming, didn’t know it was me that Moretti called. He’s not happy about it.

That makes two of us.

“This is friendly until it’s not, Capelli,” Moretti warns me.

“There’s nothing friendly about you grabbing my man.” Jesus, there it is again, and Rafael doesn’t miss it. His eyes widen. “What the fuck is this about, Moretti?”

“You better watch your fucking tone, Dominic, consideringyour mantook out one of mine last night.”

My footsteps falter. “What?”

“Lower your gun, Dominic, or I’m going pistol whip the shit out of his pretty face.”

I do what he says, but I don’t signal my men. They keep their guns up but away from Capelli, focusing on his muscle.

Capelli keeps his gun nudged against Rafael’s head as he speaks. “Are you asking me to believe you had nothing to do with the mess your boy made of Anton Silva?”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“You’ve been in here on the regular for a while now, and Costa wasn’t here last night. I’m guessing he was with you.”

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