Page 46 of Brutal Heir (Ruthless Heirs #3)
A DEATH WARRANT
R ory
“Fuck!” Alessandro’s roar echoes across the penthouse, the howl lifting the tiny hairs at my nape.
I drop my mug of cappuccino and race around the kitchen island to find him pacing in front of the glass doors overlooking Central Park below. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a fucking death warrant hanging over your head, Rory.” He hurls his phone across the great room, and it hits the marble with a thwack. “Your ex-fiancé is offering any scumbag on the street between here and Belfast one million dollars for your head, dead or alive.”
I blink, then swallow hard. I shouldn’t be surprised and still, hearing the words has my entire body tensing.
Did I really think Conall would just let me run away from him without any repercussions? But why now? A whole year later…
“What else did you find out?” The moment I spilled the truth I knew Alessandro wouldn’t just let my past die along with Brigid O’Shea. It’s not in his nature. As much as he’s tried to bury the impulses beneath the web of scars, he’s still every bit the controlling, commanding Gemini heir.
The explosion hid the truth for a while, but the real Alessandro Rossi wouldn’t remain buried for long.
Worse, I relish this side of him.
It’s a reflection of the hard work and effort we’ve put in for the past two months.
The ghost of a man I found is gone, the strong, assertive future CEO and mob king alive in his place.
“Conall has likely been hunting you since you left him at the altar,” he grinds out.
I nod, unable to yank out any words from the back of my throat. My thoughts swirl back in time to that night I fled the Velvet Vault. I’d been so sure I was being followed. What if it had been one of Conall’s men?
“Your father and brothers have joined in on the manhunt,” he continues, drawing me away from my thoughts. “Apparently, they caught whiff of you on American shores when you went to see some guy named Ryan Flanagan.”
“Shite,” I hiss. “The forged documents.”
“ Merda , Rory.” He stalks across the room, pure rage pouring from his coiled muscles. Then guilt flashes across the weary lines of his face. “You got those papers for me, damn it. If you’d only told me the truth then…”
“Well, we can’t very well go back in time now, can we?” I snap, harsher than intended. “What’s done is done.”
He almost looks sorry.
My thoughts spin back to that day. Had Flanagan sold me out? It can’t be. Maeve trusted him, and she wouldn’t have sent me to someone unreliable. There had been another man there that day. Those dark beady eyes flash at the forefront of my mind.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph, that had been weeks ago…
How close is Conall to finding me now?
And what about Maeve? “Did you find anything about a Maeve Quinlan?”
His dark brows furrow as he regards me, and I can practically see the gears spinning in his mind as he sorts through the intel Matteo unearthed.
“She’s dead.”
“What?” I croak, the sound a half cry, half gasp. My lungs suddenly feel too tight, my ribs closing in around them. “It can’t be. She’s Conall’s sister…”
He shrugs, his scowl softening. “I don’t know any details about how it happened, but it was in the dossier Matteo provided.”
I nod numbly. If she’s truly dead, it’s because of me. She helped me escape and Conall must have found out somehow and had her killed. Feck, his own sister. That strangling guilt tears into me, clawing at my insides. God, Maeve… I’m so sorry .
Alessandro heaves out a breath, as if the very act of breathing is suddenly painful.
“I have to tell Jimmy to call off the assault on La Spada Nera. Innocent—well, men innocent of this anyway, could be dying because of my command. I issued their death sentences in a blind frenzy to protect you. I was so sure…” His words fall away, and another wave of guilt eats at my core.
“I have to get to the Velvet Vault. Jimmy has Jace Morello. He’s been questioning him since yesterday. ”
“Torturing, don’t you mean?”
His lips thin out, jaw clenching. “I did it for you,” he growls, throwing his hands up.
And he would have gone to finish the job yesterday if he hadn’t found out the truth about Brigid.
Feckin’ hell, this is such a mess. “I’m going with you.”
“I’d argue but I know you’re more stubborn than?—”
“You on a bad day?” I cut him off.
A rueful smile pulls at the corner of his lip, but he chases it away with a scowl. “Exactly. Now let’s go before another innocent man dies because of me.”
It’s kind of him to say, to attempt to shoulder some of the burden, but we both know the truth. If Jace Morello dies by torture, his blood is on my hands.
The stench of blood hits me before the door even swings open.
It clings to the moist air like rot, thick and metallic, coating the back of my throat. Alessandro’s hand tightens around mine as we step into the dimly lit basement of the Velvet Vault, the sound of a muffled groan echoing off the concrete walls.
Jimmy stands with his sleeves rolled up, forearms splattered red.
He has a pair of bloodied pliers in one hand and a look of cold indifference on his face.
Jace Morello is slumped in a metal chair bolted to the floor, wrists zip-tied behind his back, one eye swollen shut, and blood smeared down his cheek like war paint.
He looks barely conscious.
“What the fuck is this?” Alessandro’s voice booms through the room, sharp and commanding.
Jimmy doesn’t flinch. “Interrogation. Like you ordered.”
“I told you to bring him in, not rip his goddamn teeth out.” He shoves past me, storming toward the two men, radiating fury and authority. “Drop the fucking tools, Jimmy.”
With a sigh that borders on bored, Jimmy obliges, setting the pliers down on the tray beside him with a soft clink. “Your call, boss.”
Alessandro crouches in front of Jace, eyes narrowing as he studies him. “You awake, Morello?”
Jace coughs, something wet and ragged, then lifts his head with effort. “Barely,” he rasps. “But enough to know this is bullshit.”
“Careful,” Alessandro growls. “You’re already on thin ice.”
“I didn’t shoot at you.” Jace spits, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. “Like I’ve been telling your guy since yesterday. I swear to God. I wouldn’t do that. I’m reckless, not suicidal.”
Alessandro says nothing, just watches him. Silent. Assessing.
“I told Sienna to skim,” Jace admits, shoulders sagging. “The capo, Vincenzo Carbone, he wanted schedules, names, movements. We needed leverage, some intel on the Geminis, nothing more. It was never supposed to get violent.”
“Then what the fuck do you call what happened to Amber?”
His mouth curves, chest falling. “That was an accident. The girl walked in at a bad time.”
“So you killed her?”
“I had no choice, Rossi. But it sure as hell wasn’t me who ordered the hit.”
My breath catches.
I glance at Alessandro, but his face is unreadable like stone carved from fire. His knuckles are white as he fists them at his sides, every muscle coiled like a spring.
“I believe him,” he mutters, but it lands in the room like a grenade.
Jimmy scoffs. “You serious?”
Alessandro’s jaw ticks. “Dead serious. We’ve got worse things to worry about than this idiot. He’s just a pawn. He’s not our shooter.”
“Damn right I’m not,” Jace mumbles, head dropping forward.
Alessandro turns to Jimmy, a tendon flickering beneath the five o’clock shadow along his jaw. “Call it off.”
Everyone in the room knows what it means, except for Jace hopefully.
“You’re sure?”
“It’s what I just said, isn’t it?”
“After what we started… it won’t be easy to come back from that. There will be consequences.”
“And I’ll handle them when they come.”
A wave of nausea hits me. I stagger back against the wall, the weight of it all crashing into me at once.
This is my fault.
If I hadn’t lied about who I was, if I’d told Alessandro the truth from the beginning, he wouldn’t have set all of this in motion.
Now surely there would be retribution from La Spada Nera.
Maybe not today or tomorrow while they’re hiding out licking their wounds, but one day.
My lies have made Alessandro vulnerable, and not just him, but his whole family.
I wrap my arms around my middle, bile rising in my throat. I want to scream. I want to confess everything again, just to feel like I’m doing something. But I’ve already said the words. And still… this blood, this violence, it feels like mine.
Alessandro turns to me then, his eyes gentler than I deserve. “Red?”
I nod, swallowing hard. “I’m fine,” I lie.
But I’m not. Not even close.
Because all I can think is: if something happens to Alessandro, if I lose him, because of the secrets I carried into his home I’ll never survive it.