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“Mr. Marino, thank you for meeting me.”
It’s not like I had a fucking choice.
“Give it to me straight. What did you find out?”
He glances around the empty parking lot before handing over a large manila envelope.
“Before you read what’s in that envelope, I think you should meditate beforehand and make sure you are alone.”
That doesn’t sound good at all. The faster my heart pounds in my chest, the more shallow my breathing becomes.
“How about you just tell me what you found out, so I can hit the gym with my teammates?”
“Finding out what she’s been doing the past couple of weeks was the easy part. The hard part was finding her past and what drove her to Savannah.”
“I’m not following.”
“Alexandra Ferguson has been meeting with Giuseppe Rossi almost every couple of days. They meet. They talk. Then she heads back to work.”
The edges of my vision blur as anger fills my veins.
He continues. “When she was seventeen, she petitioned the court to become an emancipated minor. She changed her name from Alex Marie Wilson to Alexandra Marie Ferguson.”
“What else?” I bark out, needing to know what else he found out.
He glances around nervously before saying, “Her father is a habitual gambler that has racked up more debt in Giuseppe’s casino than your family’s net worth.”
“Are you sure about all of this? She’s been meeting with Rossi?”
“Yeah. No doubt about it. There are almost one hundred text messages and phone calls between the two of them. I’ve printed out the call logs and the messages.”
I clench my jaw and grit out, “Thanks. I’ll wire your payment.”
He holds up his hand to stop me from leaving. “Wait, there’s a lot more in the envelope that I think will interest you.”
“That’s all I need to know.” I walk away from him and head straight to the gym.
With my jaw clenched, I walk past William, Young, and Roberts and head straight to the punching bag. I drop my duffle bag and start hitting the bag without gloves.
I need to feel the pain from every punch.
I need to get Alexandra out of my system. Damn if she didn’t look great last night. I could tell she was crying, but at what? I don’t know.
The news was on and they were covering my accident, but would Alexandra really cry over me being in an accident? Does she still care about me?
No. Stop it, damnit. I can’t think about her in a caring manner. I need to face the fact that my heart and mind are not on the same page.
With each set of punches to the bag, I ask myself another question.
Smack. Smack.
How long has she been working for Rossi?
Smack. Smack.
How long has she been lying to me and my family?
Smack. Smack.