Page 48 of Tortured Hearts
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. Your place is off exit 5B. You can take the next one and loop around, but the third leads to…” Exhaling heavily, he tips his head back and scrubs his hand down his face. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
Nope.
He shifts sideways and glares at me. “I’m pretty sure going to Marcello’s is the exact opposite of what you just agreed to do.”
“I didn’t agree to shit. You got philosophical, and I pretended to listen.”
“Gianni—”
I smack my palm against the steering wheel. “I heard you, all right? But if I’m going to be gutted by integrity, I’m touching her one last time.”
He slices his hand through the air. “Out of the question.”
“You seem to be under the impression I was asking for permission, so let me rephrase that. We’re going to the estate. Once we arrive, I’m going to Becca, and you’re going to cut the surveillance feed, then set the existing footage on a constant loop.”
“What about your father?”
“What about him? You have his location on a tighter lockdown than a jealous lover. If he leaves the club, run interference and keep him busy.”
“And how do you propose I dothat?”
I shrug. “Tell him he’s pretty.”
“I’m serious, Gianni.”
“So am I. Remind him how smart he is and how everything is falling into place … blah, blah,fuckingblah.”
Knowing my father, I could screw Becca nine ways ’til Sunday, and he’d still be in the same position, soaking up Anton’s praise like catnip. He craves adoration and envy, which is why his favorite pastime is climbing up that giant pedestal of his. Knocking him off of it has always been embarrassingly easy.
“And what about the guard stationed outside her door?” he mutters, slumping into his seat. “Are you going to compliment him until he skips away to doodle your name in his notebook?”
I side-eye him and make the left toward the long, winding driveway of my father’s estate. “Don’t be dramatic. I’m going to break his neck.”
The moment I pull into the underground garage, Anton flings the passenger side door open and disappears inside. I try to give him time to work, but ten minutes is all I’ve got in me. Firing off a quick text to Owen, I push our meeting at Louie’s back an hour and make my way toward the basement. As I reach the base of the stairs, instinct has me reaching for my gun.
The door is unguarded.
Dread drives a hard fist into my chest. Reloading my magazine, I approach slowly.
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”
I spin around and aim my Glock between my father’s eyes. “What did you do to her?”
The bastard has the nerve to lookannoyed. “Where did you get a gun?”
“The gun fairy left it under my pillow. Now answer the fucking question.”
He chuckles. “Humor under pressure. I like that. However, this is the second time you’ve trespassed on my property. I could have you arrested, you know.”
Shifting my aim an inch to the side, I send a bullet flying past his ear into the wall. “I’ll ask one more time. What did you do?”
Instead of being startled by it, he seems proud. “Me? Nothing. But therewasan incident.”
“Whatkindof incident?”
“A most unpleasant one, I’m afraid.” He exhales dramatically. “It’s so hard to find good help these days.”
