Page 92 of Die for You
She stands, her eyes filled with pity. “You know something, she won’t destroy you…you’ll end up destroying yourself.”
And she leaves me alone with the corpse of my brother.
Reaching out, I stroke his cold forehead. “I’m sorry.”
Taking one last look at him, I cover him with the black sheet and make a call to one of my men. He won’t have a funeral. I mean, what would I write on his headstone? And who would mourn him?
I certainly won’t.
And neither will Gianna.
She would have promised him the world. And he fell for her smoke and mirrors. Or more like, he was lured in by the copious amounts of drugs she supplied him.
Every action has a consequence, and this was Lewis’s.
My cell rings, and I see it’s Taylor, calling me from the gatehouse.
“What now?” I groan to myself before answering.
“Sorry to disturb you, sir, but there’s a man at the gates. He doesn’t speak a word of English.”
And the day just keeps on giving.
“Send him up.”
Taylor doesn’t argue.
I forgot I agreed to allow Nico to stay here.
But how the fuck did he get here so quickly? According to Valentina, he was beaten within an inch of his life. Alarm bells begin to sound. If this were true, then how is he standing, let alone able to fly halfway across the world?
Valentina’s attacker was a man. Could it be closer to home than we thought?
Quite frankly, everyone is a suspect. And I intend on treating him like one.
I go upstairs and decide to check emails while I wait for my guest. I sit at my desk, but when I see one hundred seven emails waiting for me, I slam my laptop shut.
Roberto knocks at my study door.
“What?” I snap, my elbows propped on my desk as I rub my temples.
“Sorry to intrude, but Nico is waiting for you in the foyer. Shall I escort him in?”
My temper is already boiling over, and seeing this asshole will just make it worse. This meeting will not go well. But this day is already a disaster, so what’s one more dilemma to add to the shit pile?
My leather seat rolls and hits the wall as I stand abruptly. “No, it’s fine.”
Roberto quickly moves out of my way as I storm past him. Nico’s back is turned, but he quickly spins when he hears my boots pound on the polished floors. His face is badly bruised, and he has tape across the bridge of his broken nose.
His hair is snarled.
His face unshaved.
His shirt crinkled.
Overall, he looks like hell, and when he throws a punch, connecting with my jaw, I realize why he got here so fast.
He’s here to find his—mydaughter.
