Page 25

T o say that the De Santis family is loaded would be the fucking understatement of the century.

The night Arlo and I met seems like a distant memory at this point, since it happened too many years ago, but I still vividly remember that night.

Eva and I just left the foster family, and she was trying, and failing at the time, to get clean. She was already hanging around people that I wanted to fucking kill, but she wouldn’t let me. One night, one of her so-called friends got a little handsy.

He didn’t go further than that because I knocked his teeth out.

However, that wasn’t the last I’d seen of the motherfucker. Eva distanced herself from that crowd a little, and a couple of months later, I fought him in the ring. I’m not sure, but the way he seemed to taunt and challenge me made my blood fucking boil.

I killed him in the ring.

My first kill, and the first overkill.

Men like him don’t deserve to live. They’re the scum of the Earth, and my only regret was not doing it sooner. He died a pathetic death, just like the life he lived. He deserved every bit that came to him, and I’m not regretting a damn thing.

That night, Arlo was there to watch the fight for the first time.

He approached me once I was sent away to the locker room until it was determined whether the bastard lived or not. He offered this entire thing to go away because despite it being an illegal ring, no one would keep a killer, and the chance of getting arrested was high.

The only thing he wanted in return was for me to join his family.

I accepted on the spot.

Lately, things have been rocky between us. Half because he doesn’t like the fact that I’m fucking his little sister, half because sometimes, I push his buttons just to see what’ll happen. It never ends up being a pretty sight, and given the high and thick tension revolving around Wyatt’s situation, he hasn’t exactly been thrilled to be provoked on the daily.

He hates me around Aria.

It comes from a place of concern for both Aria and me. I know it’s not malicious and that he’s trying to look out for both of us. Aria has burdens that no one ever should carry alone, and I’m too fucked up to give her the life she deserves.

But I’m trying.

I’m trying to be a better man for her. To prove to both Arlo and Hudson that no one will ever make Aria as happy as I can. I don’t know when the lust and desire for her grew into something more, into something so fucking deep.

I’m drowning in my feelings, and I don’t know how to properly tell her.

She’s a fucking saint.

She’s not pushing me; she’s patiently waiting. Even when I don’t speak, I see the way her eyes soften. She understands me more than I understand myself. That thought alone is fucking scary. Yet, at the same time, it’s something that I don’t want to disappear.

She makes the darkness around me a little less haunting, a little less suffocating, and a whole lot lighter.

Which is why I’m standing here, behind the glass window of the basement of the De Santis family, watching carefully. The main basement is connected to their mansion, but this one? It’s built on their property, underground, with an entrance so well hidden that I had no idea it was even there in the first place.

It’s a torture chamber, of sorts.

It just proves how fucking wealthy they are.

Aria is back in the house with Noelle and Blair. Apparently, once Hudson and Arlo are finished, they’ll be hungry as fuck, so the three of them are preparing some sort of a big meal. It’s been an hour and a half since I’ve been here, and thus far, the two men have been playing around.

Behind the glass window are Hudson and Arlo, circling around the driver that Aria captured. To be fair, they were all captured unharmed, but where the rest of them have ended up is a mystery that I have no interest in solving.

I trust that Arlo and Hudson have taken proper care of them.

The man’s name is Oliver Grey. His record is too big for me to read in one sitting. From delinquent acts during his high school days to the recent arson charges. The man has done everything a person could think of, and how he’s not in prison yet is beyond me.

While Aria and I were waiting for Hudson to pick the men up, she grabbed Oliver’s phone and quickly skimmed through it. He’s often talking to Wyatt, but nothing that would tell us where the bastard is hiding or what he’s planning.

Just by looking at Oliver next to the other men that were with him, Aria concluded that he’s the closest to Wyatt. She’s not wrong, though. From what Arlo told me, they briefly interrogated the other men, and they have no fucking clue about anything. They just did what they were paid to do.

Oliver, on the other hand, has kept his mouth shut.

For the past hour and a half, Hudson and Arlo have only been circling him. Neither of them uttered a word; they just stalked out the prey, waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce. Oliver is slowly starting to sweat.

He’s trying to keep up with the indifferent expression and a passive gaze, but it’s faltering with each passing minute. Sweat drips from his forehead, his Adam's apple bobbing with each swallow motion, and he’s been doing it a lot.

He’s trying to stare into the wall, but whenever Arlo and Hudson would move to stand behind him, his eyes would follow them. He’s clutching the armrest, his knuckles white. The tight rope around him makes it impossible for him to move an inch, and it’s a rather amusing sight to witness.

Arlo checks his watch, then looks at Hudson. The two stand in front of Oliver, having a silent conversation for a minute. Hudson nods curtly and steps back slightly to give his son more room. Arlo cracks his back momentarily, then runs his hands through his white hair.

And when he grins, the diamond tooth gem on his canine shines brightly, causing Oliver to flinch. The bastard’s flinching for the wrong thing. The look of pure insanity flashes on Arlo’s face, making me straighten up a little.

May the Lord help those Arlo De Santis deems an enemy, because there’s not a person in this world that would save them from his wrath.

There’s a reason they call him The Ghost.

When he comes and leaves, no one sees him. However, he always leaves bodies in his wake, and New York is terrified of the Ghost. Because unlike the horror stories, this one is very real, and once you’re on his radar, you’re as good as dead.

I may be physically stronger than Arlo, but he’s not bad. As much as it hurts me to fucking admit it, if he put half as much effort into his training, he’d get to my level quickly. There’s not a single thing he’s bad at. Well, except allowing me to fucking provoke him like a kid.

“So, Oliver, ready to talk?”

My thoughts get broken when I hear Arlo’s voice. The menacing grin is still on his face as he bends to Oliver’s level. Hudson stands in the corner, leaning against the wall with a cigarette in his hand, observing his son carefully, a look of pride on his face.

“I’ve nothing to say to you,’’ Oliver spits.

He literally spits in Arlo’s face.

I freeze momentarily, and so does Hudson. But our next reactions vary. Hudson starts laughing his ass off, the cigarette slipping from his lips and rolling onto the floor. He puts a hand over his mouth, still laughing hysterically.

I, on the other hand, can feel the anger radiating off Arlo. Slowly, he uses the back of his long-sleeved shirt to wipe the spit, eyes darkening a couple of shades. His body starts trembling in fury, and it only intensifies when he hears how hard his father is laughing.

This is about to get very ugly very soon.

Arlo steps back an inch, grabbing Oliver’s wrist and yanking it forward. He stares deeply into Oliver’s eyes, and in an instant, a loud snap is heard, followed by a scream of agony from Oliver. Arlo broke his wrist.

Tears pool in Oliver’s eyes, slipping down his cheeks. His screams don’t subside, and Arlo releases his wrist. His shoulders relax slightly, and a deep breath leaves him. He’s trying his best not to kill the motherfucker before he spills something.

“Let me start this again,’’ Arlo drawls out. “Where the fuck is Karl Brown?”

Oliver is panting, trying to ease the pain. His eyes are squeezed shut for a couple of minutes, and Arlo’s patiently waiting. The moment Arlo’s hand wraps around his other wrist, Oliver’s eyes snap open, and he shakes his head furiously.

“No, no, please,’’ he squeaks out, desperation written on his face. “I’ll tell you everything I know.’’

“Go on, then. I’m a busy man. Stop wasting my time with your useless breathing.’’

“He’s in Brooklyn,’’ Oliver stutters, the pain very evident on his facial expression. “He… he has a small condo.’’

“Do you know how big fucking Brooklyn is? I need the address.’’

Oliver shakes his head. “I don’t know! I promise. I just know that he’s in Brooklyn.’’

Arlo takes his words with a grain of salt but nods nonetheless. “Alright. Anything else? Why were you following Aria?”

“The cameras in her apartment stopped working, so Karl had us follow her around to find out if she would change her routine, to see who she talks to and where she goes.’’

“He didn’t tell you to hurt her?”

Oliver shakes his head. “No! No. Of course not.’’

Arlo hums in response. “More. Tell me more.’’

“His goal was never to hurt Aria. Just to remove those around her so he can be with her again.’’

If Arlo was angry earlier, I don’t know how to describe this. Half of him regrets letting Wyatt live, but the other half is more focused on the utter nonsense coming from Oliver’s mouth. Removing everyone around Aria?

The motherfucker couldn’t even remove me when he sent Jackson, let alone a family of trained killers.

“Oh? Is that so?’’

Oliver nods furiously.

“Then, what’s his next step?”

“Kidnapping her.’’

Arlo freezes, and Hudson’s a second away from taking over. My blood starts boiling the longer I stare at the motherfucker. I wish I could see an ounce of a lie in him, but I find none. He’s being completely honest.

“He wants to kidnap her? How and when?”

Oliver shakes his head. “I don’t know. All I know is that he got some cabin in the woods where he’ll keep her.’’

Arlo curses under his breath. This took a different turn than any of us expected, and he steps back, pacing through the room. Hudson stands in front of Oliver, his threatening figure causing Oliver to quiver slightly.

Hudson De Santis isn’t the one to take threats to his family lightly.

“You have a choice, Oliver.’’ He pauses, pulling out another cigarette. The pause makes the tension in the air thicken, and Oliver visibly flinches. Hudson puffs out the cloud of nicotine right into his face. “You’ll either tell me everything in fine fucking detail or I will make you wish you were never born. And trust me, I have at least fifty different ways to do that without killing you.’’

“Karl has gathered the New York Vipers. The gang is under him, but a lot of them left when they heard he’d be going up against you. Maybe twenty men remained. He’s still trying to build an army, but he definitely plans on taking Aria soon.’’

“How soon?”

“Before Christmas.’’

Hudson curses under his breath. That’s a month away. Thank fuck I let Aria knock on the bastard’s window this morning. I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened to her if she hadn’t. This information is crucial, and I doubt Wyatt counted on Oliver getting captured.

Fucking bastard.

The moment I lay my eyes on him, he’s as good as dead.

An hour later, Hudson leaves. Arlo tries to wipe off the blood from his face and hands, using a damp towel, but it only smears it around and stains the cloth. Oliver’s killing was brutal. Arlo, in the end, couldn’t hold back and just took out all his anger on the bastard.

It was well-deserved, in my opinion.

He sits across from me, staring at the dead body through the glass. He’s mentally away, his eyes twitching slightly as he continues to think. He throws the towel to the floor, silence around us, before his eyes dart to me.

“I’m going to be honest, Cove,’’ he sighs. “I don’t think you two are good for each other. I could be biased, but I love you both, and I don’t want to see either of you hurt, but…’’

“But?”

“Take her away.’’

I blink. “Excuse me?”

“You heard Oliver. Wyatt plans to kidnap her. Take her away. I don’t trust a lot of people, but I trust you’ll keep her safe. No matter my personal opinions on your relationship with my sister, I do trust you. I know she’ll be safe with you. So, take her away.’’

“Aria won’t just come. She’ll fight to stay here and deal with Wyatt.’’

“And she will,’’ Arlo says quickly. “Wyatt is hers to kill. I wouldn’t take that away from him, no matter how much I want to. But I need to know that she’s safe and sound while I track him down and get him. His little goons may be little, but I’m not taking any chances.’’

I nod in realization. “You want them all caught before you get Wyatt.’’

Arlo leans back in the chair. “Dad will make sure Wyatt won’t be able to leave New York. He’ll close the city for him. Once he realizes his men are going missing one by one, he’ll panic. He’s bound to make a mistake and do something stupid.’’

“Where do you want me to take her?”

“I don’t know. Take her to France, Italy, or even fucking Japan. Just keep her as far as possible from New York.’’

“If Wyatt’s men are still keeping an eye on Aria, they’ll know where we’re headed. They could follow us even across the ocean.’’

“So? You’re capable enough to deal with it when the time comes. Besides, at most, he’ll send a few men. It’s easy for you and Aria to take them down.’’

“I don’t think you realize just how stubborn Aria is. She won’t just pack up and hop on a fucking plane.’’

“Then lie to her.’’

My brows narrow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,’’ he snorts. “Didn’t you tell me a while ago you’d rather have Aria hate you and be safe than die loving you?”

I clamp my mouth shut. I knew those words would come back to bite me in the ass eventually; I just didn’t think it would happen so quickly. I bite the inside of my cheek, feeling the taste of blood coat my tongue as I contemplate my options.

On one hand, I listen to Arlo and take her away by feeding her lies. If she hates anything, it’s fucking liars. I don’t see a scenario where she’d be able to forgive me for that even years down the line. She’s too prideful and stubborn to do that.

However, she’d be safe. She'd be away from all of this, and she’d return when Wyatt is captured properly. He’s hers to kill, and she’d get to do it in an environment she chooses. Everything that comes after Wyatt getting caught will be her choice and done to her liking.

On the other hand, I could tell her the reason we’d be going away and take the chance of her throwing a fit over it. I understand why she would, too. She wants to fight her own battles, and as admirable as that is, it could also get her killed. That’s not something I’ll fucking risk.

“Just…’’ Arlo stands up, picking up the dirty towel. “Sleep on it, alright? Let me know tomorrow.’’

The two of us walk out of the basement toward the main mansion in silence. My mind is consumed with the thoughts of Aria and how to appropriately take action. Arlo, Noelle, and Hudson need to focus on tracking down Wyatt as soon as possible.

Aria going on her own leaves her without protection. No matter how good Hudson’s men are, I don’t trust them to keep her safe and unscathed.

Even Arlo trusts me more than he trusts men he grew up around.

Once we enter the mansion, he goes to change and shower, since he reeks of blood. I step into the kitchen, watching the scene in front of me.

Hudson’s helping Noelle finish up the meal; the two are laughing amongst themselves like two high schoolers in love. On the other side, Aria and Blair are skimming through a magazine, whispering in hushed voices.

The moment her eyes fall on me, her smile widens, eyes lightening up.

Something wraps around my chest, and I can’t shake off the feeling. Her happiness means the world to me. But the thought of not seeing that smile ever again breaks me apart. At this moment, I come to a conclusion, and the decision is made.

Aria’s safety above everything else.

I just hope that in due time, she’ll forgive me for lying to her. Because no matter the circumstances, lying to her is unforgivable. It doesn’t make me any better than that bastard Wyatt.