Page 46 of Ruthless Boss

He finally removes the gag, and I gasp. My throat is so dry it hurts to speak.

“Water,” I beg.

He reaches to the nightstand and scoops another bottle, but in classic Ciro fashion, he only tips a little bit into my mouth—just enough to keep me living and breathing. The liquid nearly evaporates as I swallow it. I lick my lips, desperate to remove the parched skin. My stomach grumbles.

“How did you find me?” I rasp, my brain working overtime to move through the fog.

“You mean the first time? I checked the air tag and knew you were looking for jobs. Saw you visit a couple of strip clubs in Chicago, which narrowed it down. I took care of some business and got my ass here,” he says with a victorious smile I wish I could wipe from his face. “Checked the places you interviewed at and talked to the managers. A few days after I promised Chevy some money if he gave me information, he called. Said one of the girls overheard Rocco Gallo telling his brother how close you were getting to your boss.”

Anger washes through me. Couldn’t have been Tara. She wouldn’t snitch on me. Probably my replacement did it.

“I thought you found out my new name through Clayton,” I say, remembering who helped me get my new name when I left New York.

“I did. He didn’t want to help me, but after a good beating, he changed his mind.”

My face aches as I inhale. “How about here?” I made it all the way to California overnight.

“I paid attention, sweetheart. Stalked Dante’s house. I knew sooner or later, your ass would show up.”

One thing doesn’t make sense. Why would Ciro go to all this trouble and not kill me at the first opportunity? “Why am I still alive?”

“Next Wednesday, we’re meeting Ross. And he’ll finish you off.”

Ross Santini. I sink my teeth into my lower lip and taste the dry blood lingering from earlier. “Why? I never met him.”

“I used my conundrum for leverage. With my father dead, I needed extra income. Ross may not be rich, but he values loyalty. Besides, even though you’ve never met Ross, do you think he wants you alive? You killed his cousin, popped one of my eyes out, and then found solace in our biggest enemy.”

My stomach sinks. Of course, Ciro hasn’t hurt me the way he thinks I deserve—he’s priming me for Ross.

“I defended myself. I did nothing against your boss,” I say, desperation creeping into my voice.

“You can tell him that in person in a few days. In Chicago.”

“I never… I never knew you two were close. Or that he cared for your dad.”

The cold glint in his left eye scares me to the bone. “The Gallos killed his only son. Then you offed my dad and tried to do the same to me.”

“I have… nothing to do with the Gallos.”

He scowls.

I’m the weak link. It’s easy for Santini to kill me and make an example of me. The fact he wasn’t super close to Aroldo or Ciro doesn’t matter. They both worked for him, under him, and were his employees, regardless of how useless they were.

Maybe…

Another layer of panic settles in my gut. Does Santini know I care for Dante? That he may care for me? Could Santini want to use me as bait? The question stings at the tip of my tongue, but I can’t voice it. I don’t want to manifest those crazy ideas out loud.

Ciro’s phone buzzes, and he shoves the gag into my mouth again before picking it up. “Parking lot of Jaq’s Diner. Wednesday. Got it.”

Fuck.

It’ll take a few days to drive to Chicago. Today’s Friday. Fuck, fuck.

I assume we won’t fly—the Santinis don’t have money for charting jets, and commercial flights would be too risky—I could easily ask for help. If someone sees the bruises on my stomach and limbs, they’ll know.

Nope. We’re for sure driving.

Maybe when we’re in the car, I can do something when we stop during the day. Other motel stays. At some point, the exhaustion will catch up to Ciro. It has to—and then, I’ll act.

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