Page 12 of Ruthless King
TAKING OUT THE TRASH
Luca – A Week Earlier
Pezzo di merda. I glare at the piece of shit bleeding on the subway platform whose family has ruined everything good about lower Manhattan. The Red Dragons have no finesse, no style, no purpose in their business dealings. Rape, burglary, assault. It makes no difference to them if it’s a woman or an eighty-year-old grandpa. It’s just wrong.
“Get out of here,” I hiss and throw in another kick for good measure.
Bo Zhang lets out a grunt, his body curling in on itself. “Fuck you, guido. I should’ve known it was you.” My blood boils as a snide grin tilts the corners of his lips. “The Kings are old news. You’ve gone soft, everyone knows it. It’s only a matter of time until the Dragons rule everything south of Harlem.”
I snort on a laugh. “You’re delusional, Bo. That last punch must’ve hit something important.” I button up my trench coat, about done with thisbastardoand this conversation. The roar of the approaching subway spins my attention to the tracks. That woman’s book.
My feet compel me forward to the edge of the platform. It’s already destroyed from the last train that passed but the cover is still legible. Taking my phone out, I snap a quick pic and send it to Tony. That guy can track down anything.
Hmm … Economics.
From the corner of my eye, I catch Bo pushing himself off the ground. I cock my head over my shoulder and glare at the shithead. I try to be civil with these goons to keep the peace with the Chinese Triad but today, I can’t. “Who was that woman? It sounded personal.”
He staggers closer, wiping blood from his lip. “Just some whore I used to fuck.”
Dio, the man has no respect for anything. “She have a name?”
Bo shakes his head. “Can’t remember it.” His eyes narrow as he regards me. “What are you going to do Robin Hood, save her book?” He ticks his head at the ravaged remains below. “If you jumped on the tracks you’d sure as fuck be doing me a huge favor.”
The rushing winds of the approaching train jostle the torn spine and ripped pages. Dark black letters catch my eye on the inside of the front page. A name. I snap another quick picture and send it to Tony a second before the train rolls in. If anyone can figure it out, it’s my righthand man and one of my oldest friends.
The subway charges into the station, and I inch closer to the yellow line. The doors glide open, and I slip through. Bo makes a move toward me, but I hold my hand out. “Take the next one,” I snarl.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Luca?”
“Does it look like I’m kidding? And that’sSignorValentino to you, shithead.” I shove him back, and the sleek doors slam closed. A satisfied smile curls my lips as the train car lurches forward. Bo’s furious expression blurs, his irate curses falling away as we speed out of the station.
Once my temper simmers, I fold into the empty seat beside the door. It isn’t often I make use of the city’s underground transportation system anymore. It must have been fate that brought me here today. There was something about that girl … I close my eyes and her face, pressed to the glass doors of the subway car, whizzes by.
Opening my eyes, I shake my head out and dismiss the images. I’ve got enough to worry about without adding some girl Bo’s screwing to the list.
As soon as I’m back on the streets of the Upper East Side, the tense set of my shoulder blades eases. Up here I’m Luca Valentino, respected businessman. Down there, in my old hood, I’m something else.
My cell phone pings, and I glance at the string of messages from Tony. In my rush, I hadn’t actually explained what any of the pictures I’d sent him meant. Filling him in on my encounter with Bo, I ask him to track down the woman and find her a new textbook.
Economics had always been a favorite of mine.
Yes, that had to be it. It has nothing to do with the gorgeous brunette kneeling on the ground or the look on her face that had roused an indescribable emotion in my hollow chest. Another wave of anger pummels into me, and I lengthen my stride and turn down the next street toward The Plaza. I need a release.
A hidden gem, the famous Plaza Hotel houses the super exclusive gym I belong to,La Palestra. With my Italian roots, when I’d heard the name, it was a no-brainer. I spent most mornings there working out my explosive temper, but I'd missed my session today.
After that run-in with Bo, I need to hit something. Again.
Taking the steps two at a time, I nod at the bellmen stationed in front of the classic hotel. “Morning, Mr. Valentino.” One of them rushes to open the door.
“Morning … Vic.” I glance at his nametag, and he rewards me with a smile. I slip him a twenty and the grin only grows wider. “Put it towards your college fund, kid. I used to save up every penny I earned.” And I’d done just about everything when I was a teenager: from waiting tables, to valet parking, to petty theft.
“Thanks, Mr. Valentino.”
I dip my head, cross the glittering foyer of the bustling hotel and head toward the stairs. As I descend the private stairwell, the scent of disinfectant muddled with lavender assaults my nostrils.
“Good morning, Mr. Valentino.” The cute blonde behind the counter flashes me a brilliant smile.
“Morning, Grace.” She opens her mouth to continue the conversation, but I zip past her. The girl is sweet, but it’s obvious she likes me. And I have rather particular tastes and rules regarding my sex life. It was just sex. And that was it.
