Page 110 of Desperate Desires

Speaking of family, I frowned as my phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Shit.

There was a fire at one of my warehouses.

“Ono? What is it?”

“Nothing, Baby,” I said, opening up my arms and pulling Michelle in for a hug.

“Don’t do that. No lies, remember,” she said, and I closed my eyes, just breathing her in a moment.

“No lies. There’s a fire at one of my warehouses,” I told her.

“Is anyone hurt? Do you need to leave?” she asked.

“No. This is more important than anything else?—”

“Ono, this is just a party. If something is wrong, if this could lead to the person behind the attacks, we should check it out.”

“We’re not checking anything out. You are going to stay right here where you’re safe,” I told her, cupping her cheeks and kissing her on the mouth.

I was aware others had joined us, and I kissed her again nodding to Micky and Clementine who bracketed her and took her hands in theirs.

“We got her,” they said in unison, their husbands behind them.

“I told Dad and Uncle Adrik what’s happening. They got men meeting us downstairs,” Sammy said.

“She’s good, bro. Let’s go,” Jr. added, and I nodded.

Anger pulsed through me. I hated that I had to go, but knowing in my heart that Michelle was right. I needed to find the fucker behind this.

Find them and stop them once and for all.

Chapter 38-Ono

I was on my phone while Gio drove, trying to get us through traffic and back down to Newark where one of my warehouses was currently burning.

I should have been at the Stargazer with my wife, celebrating our marriage with her family, then sinking into her sweet body and driving us both into oblivion before the sun came up.

That was what I should have been doing, all right. Instead, I was sitting with Jr. and Sammy, looking through security footage to find the pricks responsible for tonight.

Motherfuckers.

The fire department was already there, doing whatever they could to put it out. But I knew there would be plenty of ruin and one night guard had lost his life.

More anger rolled through me.

“I got something,” Jr. said, sitting up straight.

He flipped his phone to show us a car holding four men wearing masks, delivering what looked like some sort of bomb and a fuckton of gas cans along the side of the building.

“The extra cameras were a good idea,” I concerned, nodding to Sammy, as I tried to make out the license plate.

“I think I got it,” I said, sending it right to the guys at Sigma’s headquarters.

“You don’t recognize the car?”

“It’s a black SUV. Could be anybody,” I shrugged, angry and frustrated.

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