Page 5 of Corrupted Pleasure
I shot up out of my seat behind the desk and pulled the .45 from the holster strapped around my chest. The sounds of screams and pounding footsteps traveled from the front of the nightclub.
Fuck, why today?Juliette, my daughter, was visiting me, and I’d asked her to go to the penthouse and wait for me there before we went to grab dinner at our favorite restaurant with Killian, my eldest.
Another shot.
More gunfire and screaming in Russian, Italian, and Gaelic. Obviously, the latter were my men; though what the fuck were the Italians and Russians doing here? So far, I’d strictly fought the Russians and Italians separately.
Maybe those two decided to negotiate and attack together.
I fucking hoped not.
Dread filled me. The memory of my sister in her own pool of blood. The terror I saw in her eyes. It stayed with you forever. Everything I had ever done was to protect my family. That day twenty-one years ago, I failed more than one person.
It wasn’t time for memories. Pushing them all out of my mind, I focused on the situation at hand and rushed down the hallway. My weapon ready, I headed toward the main room, each step bringing me closer to the screams.
The moment I got to the dance area, I saw people run past the corridor and straight out the front doors. It was a damn stampede.
A woman fell down and I wrapped my left hand around her elbow, my gun still in my right hand, ready to shoot. Yanking her to her feet, I nudged her forward.
I scanned the room. The lounge area was a disaster. Tables were overturned. Chairs too. Bodies laid on the floor. Blood pooled around them, turning my white marble floor into a red pond.
Near them were another three unmoving bodies, facedown. Judging by the quality of their suits and faint outline of their gun holsters, it had to be the Italians. Idiots never even drew their guns.
“Fuck!” I cursed under my breath. I expected an attack to The Eastside nightclub, but here on the west side of New York, it fucking blindsided me.
This will be a clusterfuck to explain to the police, I thought dryly.
My eyes traveled over the room where I spotted Quinn, my cousin and right hand man. Our eyes met and he lifted five fingers, indicating how many men were still left. I tilted my head in acknowledgement, keeping a sharp eye. Quinn and I had been doing this for a long time.
I turned and went in the opposite direction. Quinn clearly had a handle on this side, so I headed towards the arched doorway that connected this room to the large dance floor. I kept to the shadows, using the columns to conceal myself. I spotted three of my employees huddled, hiding at the end of the bar, their eyes frightened.
I lifted my finger to my lips and signaled them to stay quiet. All of them stared at me, frightened, then one lifted his hand and pointed to the opposite end of the bar. I nodded, letting him know I understood.
Moving to the next column, I kept my steps silent. I thanked God and all the saints that I left the columns as part of the structure when we renovated this place. Otherwise, I’d be left wide open right now.
From this spot, I could see two men crouched. They had to be Italians. In goddamn suits again. The two argued back and forth in hushed, hissed tones. It bothered me that I couldn’t spot the other three.
For a moment, I listened to their hissed tones. They complained about the Russians. Apparently, they ditched the Italians. The question was why were the Russians working with the Italians.
Judging by the idiots here, I wouldn’t find that out from them. They were low ranking men. So I whistled, catching their attention.
Both whipped around, swinging their guns around and pointing them at me.
Before either one of them could do anything, I pulled the trigger, my bullet lodging itself square between the eyes of the first man. Then I pulled the trigger again and hit the other one in the chest.
Rushing to the second one, the faint wail of sirens registered in my brain. We didn’t have much time.
I stopped by his body, his eyes bulged out, fear in them as he gurgled and choked on his own blood.
“What was your mission tonight?” I asked.
He opened his mouth, blood spurting out of it and trickling down his chin. He had only seconds to live.
“Give me the information, or I’ll go after your family.” He should understand that because Italians went after the family.
“A warning.”
CHAPTER2
