Page 67 of Vincenzo
“Mind if I sit?” I ask, pulling out the chair next to me and taking a seat before he can answer. Crossing one leg over theother, I relax back in the uncomfortable leather chair and say, “Now, where was I? Oh, right. I don’t fucking know who you are, which goes against all protocol when I meet someone—especially under these circumstances—but here’s the thing, I’m fuckingragingright now because the woman I’ve somehow fallen for was attacked in your parking lot tonight.”
The owner’s bushy brows shoot up to his hairline once more.
“Yeah, fucking craaazy, right? Might I suggest better security back there?” I snap.
“Are you sure she was attackedhere?”
“Well, since I’m the one who picked her up right after it happened, I’m going to go with yes,” I say deadpan. “Any other stupid fucking questions you’d like to get out of the way before I tell you why I’m here?”
Fabien shakes his head.
“She was attacked in your back parking lot in the far-right corner. I need the footage.”
Sitting up in his seat, Fabien interlaces his fingers and says, “What are you going to do with the footage if I give it to you.”
Sitting up in my seat, I mimic his pose. “Ifyou give it to me?” I let out a deep, sinister chuckle. “Ifyoudon’tgive it to me, then I’ll be forced to use my gun on you, and I’m really not in the fucking mood for that tonight, Fabien. So can you do me a solid and just make this easy?”
“If you think coming in here and threatening me is going to?—”
I pull my jacket open, rip my gun out of its holster, and aim it right at Fabien’s head. “Alright, I tried to play nice, but your annoying high-pitched voice and uncooperative dickbag ways are fucking grating on my nerves.”
Fabien throws himself back in his chair and raises his hands in front of him in defense. “O-okay, put your gun away,” he says, sweat beads forming on his forehead.
“Oh, now you wantmeto cooperate? Where was the same courtesy for me from you just moments ago?”
“I-I’m sorry. I-I don’t know who you are, so you have to expect I’m going to be wary and have questions.”
“Understandable, but I don’t fucking care. My girl was just attacked outside of your establishment. Now, either you cooperate and help me, or I put a fucking bullet through your head.”
Fabien’s about to speak, but before he does, I say, “I’m known to be trigger happy, so I pray you have the correct fucking answer this time.”
“Y-yes. O-okay,” he stumbles out. “I-I’ll get you whatever you need.”
“Great,” I say, sitting back in my chair, gun still aimed at his head. “It was a couple hours ago. Work fast.”
Fabien gets to work on his computer, eyes narrowed in on it, and after a few minutes, he says, “I got it.” He turns his monitor so I’m able to see.
Leaning forward, I lock my gaze on the screen, and Amalia is walking through the parking lot on the phone… with me. Three men in masks narrow in on her from behind, and I’m fucking kicking myself internally for allowing this to happen. Had I not been distracting her on the phone, she would’ve been more aware of her surroundings. She could’ve prevented this from happening.
Fuck!
I continue watching the screen, and the metallic taste of blood floods my mouth, and I realize I’ve been biting my tongue while the fucking pieces of shit attack her. But when she stabs the big one in the leg and they all run away like the little bitches they are, a smile forms on my face.
My fucking badass little hellion.
When the clip is done, I sit back in my seat. There were three of them. The one who put the bag over her head was big. Definitely had a gut on him. The other two were tall and lanky. Both had long hair that they didn’t even fucking bother to hide in their masks.
Whoever these guys are, they’re fucking amateurs.
“The car they drove off in. Get me the make, model, and plates,” I say to Fabien.
He quickly gets to work, and after a couple minutes, he writes something down on a piece of paper, then hands it to me.
I take a picture of it and send it to Cassius who better still be awake. Actually, fuck this. I’m calling him.
After what feels like the millionth fucking ring, Cassius’s muddled voice comes over the phone. “Hello?”
“I just sent you the details on a car. I need you to get me the owner’s name and address. Now.”
