“Where?” I say, skipping the bullshit chit-chat and the useless screaming at him, tipping off how upset I am.
A beat of silence stretches out until he says low and gravelly, “Penthouse A at York Towers. One hour. Come alone.”
The line clicks dead with a silence that guts me.
Alone is easy, buddy.
CHAPTER NINE
Raina
With Valdrin’s one-hour deadline looming, I dress in my dark blue cargo pants, a black T-shirt, and a light jacket instead of leather since it’s freaking August. In my right thigh pocket, I tuck down my loaded Walther 9mm that isn’t registered.
I drop my phone into a Prada baguette bag filled with an extra clip and a wad of cash. Feeling ready for the challenge, I head out the door.
York Towers reeks of wealth. Where there’s wealth, there’s usually criminal activity. Or criminals who don’t mind showing off their ill-gotten gains.
I hide my cringe at how the doorman knows my name and brings me to a private elevator. After the swipe of a gold card, I’m sailing up forty stories to the penthouse.
The elevator opens, and I’m facing a door that could double as a bank vault. Looking up, I see cameras, and I give them both the middle finger. Before I start yelling, the massive door opens on a pivot hinge.
Valdrin stands there, and I instantly relax.
Fuck, I trusthim.
“Forty-nine minutes,” he says, looking at a d’Hermès watch.
Jesus, their cheapies go for thirty grand.
“Cutting it close,” he adds, letting me inside.
“It was a bitch to find parking.” I breeze by him.
“You drove a car?” He sounds shocked and upset, like he missed something when interrogating me.
“Joke.” I face him, fidgeting with my sleeve like I’m bored.
He gives me a once-over. “Are you armed?”
Smiling, I say, “Yep. Can I have a tour?”
Two men come from nowhere and pin me to the wall. Seconds later, they strip me of my gun.
“You’re the goddamn mafia,” I argue bitterly. “I’m protecting myself.”
Valdrin grips my chin. “We’rein the mafia. You. You belong to us now. You’re no good to us six feet under.”
“Nice Walther,” one of the guards says, nudging an erection into the crack of my ass.
“Hey buddy, take your stiff cock and fuck your mother.” I kick him from behind.
Valdrin’s head turns sharply to one of the guards frisking me. With eyes of fire, he grabs the guy and smashes his face against the fancy raised paneling. Erection Man screams in pain, and blood splatters across the wall.
The second guard jumps back. “Val!”
“Take your partner out of here and get his nose set.” Valdrin grabs my Walther and shoves me behind him. “If you or anyone else ever fucking touches her, you’re dead.”
“Noel said—”