Page 66 of Always Mine
Marco
Usually,Iloveanyexcuse to drive my car, to feel the growl of the exhaust as I push it to its full potential. Tonight, I would’ve happily stayed locked away from the world with Sophia in the comfort of my home, holding my world in my arms. That is, until the man next to me showed up on my doorstep. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him or his brothers. It’s a bond forged on loyalty and trust. As pissed off as I was for the interruption, I’m glad Luca came to me above anyone else with a problem called Arabella.
He hasn’t said a word since, but his jerky movements give away his anxious spiral. The clenching and unclenching of his jaw. The cracking of his knuckles. One by one. Left hand then right, followed by his neck. Right. Crack. Left. Crack. Like he’s gearing up to the enter the boxing ring.
“Dude, you need to calm the fuck down,” I warn. “We need to play it cool, not go in there all guns blazing.”
“Did you bring a gun?” he asks, literally ignoring any other important part of that sentence.
“Luca, can you—”He cuts me off.
“Did you bring a fucking piece or not?” he snaps back, the darker, dangerously impulsive side of him now fully revealed. “The last thing I need is a fucking lecture, bro. I just want to get to her and get her out safely. I need to know you’re prepared if shit goes sideways.”
“Yes. I always carry when entering unknown situations involving my clients,” I confirm. “Technically Arabella is a client, and she may have been taken against her will. If this gets out, this is the story we’re going with. Got it?” I don’t mention the fact that she’s being held captive in the place I own. Well, technically almost own. The deal is still in the cooling off period, mere days from settling. Another reason this fuckery feels like some sort of ambush on me, and something tells me I’m about to find out who’s pulling the strings.
He nods his head and looks at my navigation system for the hundredth time. Like the more intensely he tracks the little dot on the dash, it will magically get us there faster. Spoiler: it won’t.
Avery has sent me a voice note to explain the visuals flashing up on my dash connected to the messaging system. High-tech modifications I had added to my car given I often need to be driving and receiving instruction about a job simultaneously. From the intel and images he’s managed to pull for me, Arabella is in what appears to be a secret room underneath the main premises of La Rosa. One I didn’t even know existed but can fully appreciate in terms of why it would benefit the likes of men like Rizzo and AJ. Though my business dealings with AJ are completely above board, I am fully aware he operates in all the shades of gray, but one of the greatest lessons I’ve learned in my almost thirty years is that life is not black and white.
People can’t always be put in little boxes labelled “good” and “bad.”
“Luca, I need you to get your emotions under control. Your assessment was right. Rizzo is slick and he’s ruthless. He’s part of one of the biggest Sicilian Mafia families, and he’s the boss of the New York chapter that runs this side of town.” I eye him warily,trying to convince myself I did the right thing bringing him with me. “So if you’re coming in with me, all this anxious fidgeting must stop and you let me do all the talking to guarantee Arabella’s safety. There is no room for you to go rogue,” I tell him firmly.
“Got it. No going rogue,” he says, doing his whole nervous fidgeting routine as though I just shouted, “Let’s take it from the top,” instead of “This has to stop.”
I glare at him and he stills. Mostly. I’ll give him a hall pass for the slight tremor of the leg because my brain has already moved on, filing and processing information.
“There appears to be a concealed wall that can be opened fully like a garage door, but we can’t get in that way,” I explain. “So we’ll enter through a staff service entry, then from there I can get us access to the room she appears to still be in.”
He nods more confidently this time. The navigation tells me we’re five minutes out from our destination. I’m trained to keep my cool so I can think logically. Connect the dots. See trouble before it has time to become a problem. Form a cohesive plan. Keep everyone involved safe.
Right now my Spidey senses tell me we’re headed into an ambush. What hasn’t crystallized is why and how it involves Arabella Belmont.
“You have arrived at your destination.”
The last thing I want to do is announce our arrival, so I drive on to find parking out of direct view of the multiple discreet cameras that dot the entire front facade of building. I note the few men, bundled up against the cold, casually loitering around nearby. One’s smoking while perched on a concrete bollard in front of the building. The other is leaning against the wall nearby, playing on his phone. They’re trying very hard to look inconspicuous. Except it’s the middle of the night, and I observe the way they constantly scan their surroundings. On the lookout for imminent threats.
“Let’s get this shit done,” I say to Luca, as we both move to get out of the car quietly and quickly.
I scan our surroundings in much the same discreet way as the men I passed just now on the street before pressing down on my fob to lock my pride and joy.
The quick high-pitched lock tone sound pierces the eerily quiet and foggy street. I dart my eyes around again to ensure we’re still alone. Coast is clear. It’s late and fucking freezing. Without sparing me a glance, a stony-faced Luca channels his nervous leg-bouncing energy into long, impatient strides towards La Rosa.
“Luca, slow your roll,” I say calmly, catching up and placing a firm hand on his shoulder as a physical warning to back off the pace.
“Fucking hell! I just want to get to her. We’ve wasted enough time,” he whisper-shouts, glaring at me over his shoulder as he tries to shrug me off. He heeds my responding lethal expression as a warning and drops his pace back to match mine, taking a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose to remind himself to keep it together.
In this line of work, I know the emotionally invested are the riskiest type of partner. Given the long history between him and Arabella, there was no way he was staying behind. It’s a kind of hell I’m familiar with, and I don’t wish it on him. I just need to take control of this situation and make sure neither of them becomes collateral damage.
“This way.” I motion him towards the service entry I obviously have the codes to. We get in without drawing attention, and I silently lead us down to the door Luca must’ve seen Arabella go through, which leads to another long hallway and down a small set of stairs to the secret room. I try my luck with the same code I used for the service entry door and am pleasantly surprised when it works.
When the door opens, we’re looking straight into a spacious open-plan room. There are no windows, just the dim glow of a few lamps that provide enough light to make out the rest of the space. Big plush red velvet lounges line the walls at the back. Smooth marble end tables flank each side. A long black marble dining tablewith gold accents sits in the middle of the space surrounded by high-backed chairs. From here, only the end closest to the door is in view.
My guess is that while the main club is the legal front, “family dinners” and private business dealings take place down here.
We step through the door and slowly walk deeper into the luxe space. It’s eerily quiet, and when the door closes behind us, the click of the lock echoes like the clash of cymbals.
We’re shut inside. Enemy territory? I look at Luca, eyebrows raised in question. He nods reassuringly, his features smoothed over for the first time since this whole ordeal brought him to my door like a wildling.