Page 11 of Corrupted Deception

Chapter Three

Charlotte Santoro

I think it was safe to write off tonight as a colossal failure.

No answers.

Not one step closer to finding my dad.

And let’s not forget about the mad dash out of a hotel in my underwear. That was awesome—really.

And now, I was on the Lucianos’ radar.

Not good. Not good at all, Char.

Of course, it wasn’t enough to be on their radar, I had to be right in their sights. Literally.

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel as I glanced at my side-view mirror, eyeing the black Mercedes five cars back that had been tailing me on every twist and turn out of the city. I don’t think he was even trying to be all that stealthy about it.

I had options, though; everything from slamming on my brakes and confronting him in the middle of the street to leading him into the middle of nowhere and killing his ass.Oh, that’s tempting.

All right, tempting, but probably a bad idea. The last thing I needed was even more Lucianos hunting me down. That, and the whole murder thing again. Ugh, scruples. They were very inconvenient.

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. I supposed there was only one obvious option left.

With a calculated glance, I assessed the situation. A grin tugged at the corners of my lips as I tightened my grip on the wheel, and a thrill ran through my veins, a spark of excitement that ignited my senses, a rush that was addictive, intoxicating.

My fingers danced over the gearshift, a seamless transition that propelled the car forward with a surge of power. The engine’s growl echoed through the night, a fierce symphony that harmonized with my racing heart. It was a melody I knew well, a rhythm that called to me in moments like these.

As the road ahead stretched out, I gripped the steering wheel with a steady confidence. The car responded to my touch, a sleek extension of my intentions.

I downshifted as I approached a tight corner, the tires screeching against the asphalt with unwavering loyalty. The thrill of the chase coursed through my veins, and I reveled in the dance.

With a deft flick of my wrist, I swung the car into a narrow alley, the walls of concrete and brick mere inches from my sides. Adrenaline surged within me, a fire that burned brighter with every heartbeat. My senses were heightened, each sound and sensation woven into the fabric of my focus.

The Mercedes’ headlights flared in my peripheral vision just as I emerged from the alley and hit the accelerator with precision timing. The city lights became streaks of color, a whirlwind of motion that mirrored the frenzy within me.

I shifted gears effortlessly, each change a note in the symphony of speed.

A straightaway beckoned, and I pushed the car to its limits, the wind whipping against my face like a playful challenge. I reveled in the rush of acceleration, a burst of power that defied restraint.

As the gap between us widened, a triumphant smile crossed my face.

The Mercedes’ headlights faded into the oblivion of the night, a mere memory of a challenge overcome.

With a deep breath, I turned my attention ahead. Now that I’d left him behind, I could finally head for home, the echo of the chase still ringing in my ears.

Home.

It didn’t look like much of a home as I pulled up to the big, weathered warehouse a half hour later.

The building’s form was boxy and utilitarian, with squared-off corners and a flat, unadorned roofline that seemed to stretch on forever. The metal cladding, likely once vibrant in its metallic sheen, had now faded to a muted, rusty patina.

It looked just as dilapidated as the first time I saw it.

I’d knocked on the door, half-expecting to be greeted by the bark of angry, half-starved guard dogs.

Instead, a man in his thirties had opened the door. He was tall with dark hair, calculating—almost predatory—gray eyes, and a long scar cut down the side of his face from temple to jaw.

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