Page 32 of Unassuming Queen (Valentino Empire 2)

Fuck, I have to do something. I need to get back to her. Maybe I can disappear for a night. Donatello said something about the auction happening on Friday. That’s a few days from now. If I leave soon, I can be in Sydney by tomorrow, spend a night or so, and fly back here Friday. I’m not sure what the fuck he’s planning, but that’s where the Clover will be. If I want to get anywhere near the Irish fuck, I need to be at that auction.

The only way to eliminate this ring is to chop it off at the head. And so far, everything I’ve learned points to the Clover being at the top. I send a text to my pilot, telling him to have the jet ready to leave for Sydney within the hour. Then I message Neo to let him know I’m on my way, but not to tell Holly. I want it to be a surprise.

I throw some clothes into a bag and walk out to find Lana and Alexei on the couch, clearly having made up. “I’m heading to Sydney. I’ll be back Friday morning,” I say.

“What for? And what happened with your meeting?” Lana asks, while Alexei tries to draw the answers out of me with his fucking stare.Nice try, fucker.

“I met him. We had whisky. I left. What’s there to tell?” I shrug.

“No, you can’t leave us out of this plan of yours, T. We came here together; you’re not going into anything alone. Tell him, Alexei.” Lana stares at her boyfriend, or is itfiancénow?

“I’m not telling him shit. If he wants to be a one-man show, let him. I’m only here because you are here,” Alexei states calmly.

“Fuck off. We’re doing this together. What is it, exactly, that we’re doing, T?”

I count to ten, to try to find some fucking patience. “You wanna help bring down a sex trafficking ring, L? You’re not doing shit; you’re going to stay in this shithole villa until I get back.”

“Why are you trying to bring down a sex ring?” Alexei asks, interested all of a sudden.

“Because these assholes are bringing this shit into my city. And I won’t have women and children going missing from my streets or being fucking sold as slaves.” This is something a lot of men in our industry either turn a blind eye to or get involved with in order to reap the profits. But me? I don’t want any fucking part of it. I also can’t pretend it isn’t real. That it isn’t happening.

“What do you meanthey’re bringing it into the city? Who arethey?” he questions further.

I watch him, trying to figure out why he’s asking. Is he one of the fuckers involved in this shit? I wouldn’t put anything past those fucking Russians. I tilt my head and smirk, even though the last thing I want to do is smile at this son of a bitch. “What’s wrong, Alexei? Scared I might be ruining something you have a vested interest in?”

“Fuck off. We don’t deal in slavery,” he spits out. And for some odd reason, I believe him.

“Sure.” I shrug. “This shit’s organized by the Clover. Heard of him?” I raise an eyebrow. Everyone’s heard of the fucking Clover.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re going after the Clover? You’re on a damn suicide mission, Theo.”Guess he’s heard of him.

“Aw, you’re worried about me? Thanks, buddy. I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be fine. Make sure you keep that one out of trouble while I’m gone,” I say, pointing at Lana. As I walk out the door, I frown. What the fuck do I care if she gets herself into trouble? She’s not my problem anymore. We’re not friends, no matter how much she’s trying to push herself back into my life.

I throw my bag into the SUV Donatello insisted I take after our meeting today. He mumbled something about it being bulletproof, and how I shouldn’t be out here on my own in a shitty rental. I think he’s probably got the thing bugged, and it’s a way of keeping track of me. Although, when I ran a scanner over it, there was nothing. He also gave me a direct number and requested I let him know my plans before I acted on them.

Anyone else? Yeah, I’d tell him to fuck off with that shit. My father’s dead, and I don’t need some other asshole coming in and trying to tell me what to do. But this isn’t just any old asshole. It’s Donatello, and even I’m not stupid enough to test him. The five families may not answer to anyone back home. But here, in Italy, everyone answers to Donatello.

I’m halfway to the airport when I notice a car tailing me. A black SUV similar to the one I’m driving. I speed up, and sure enough, so do they. I pull out my phone and call Donatello. “T, didn’t expect to hear from you so soon,” he answers.

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t be if you didn’t have fuckers following me. What the fuck are your guys tailing me for, Donatello?” I growl.

“I don’t have anyone tailing you. Where are you?”

“I’m on the Autostrada A91, southbound, about twenty minutes out from the airfield. You’re sure they’re not your guys?” I ask, just as a bullet hits the back window. Fucking hell. “Good news: the glass really is bulletproof,” I say.

“They’re shooting at you?” Donatello yells through the phone, before cursing and issuing orders in Italian to someone else.

“Yeah, don’t worry, not the first time I’ve been shot at. Probably won’t be the last either.”

“I have people close. You need to keep driving, T. Don’t fucking stop.”

“Yeah, wasn’t planning on it,” I grit out, while swerving into the other lanes. There’s a loud bang and then the car is going sideways. Fuck, the fuckers shot out a back tire before ramming my bumper. “Ah, Donatello, might just want to send your cleaners out here. This is gonna get messy,” I say, hanging up. The car finally comes to a stop. I jump over the passenger seat and exit that door.

Using the car for cover, I pop up and fire, getting the driver of the other car right between the eyes.Good night, fucker.I spot at least three others: one in the passenger seat and two in the back. Then I crouch down and count to ten, listening to their doors open and close. I dart back up and get one of them in the chest, but not before I take a bullet to the shoulder.

“Fuck, you’re going to regret that, motherfucker,” I yell out.

“Give it up, Valentino. You’re outnumbered. You might want to make peace and say your last fucking prayers,” some wanna-be thug spits out in Italian.

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