Page 85 of The Right Garza

The Alvin I remember was quiet and unassuming. A glasses and corduroy pants numbers geek. Not at all someone who would be dumb enough to do something like this. So either we all misread and underestimated him, or Ellie seduced him and sank her manipulative claws into him. My bet is on the latter.

“We are dead, Lexi,” Slim says, pacing like a lunatic. “All of us. We all are dead.”

“W-What do you mean?” I ask.

“Not mine, that money that is gone. It is the Castellos.” He stops pacing and laces his fingers behind his head, looking up at the ceiling. “And they on the way to here now.”

A chilling shiver creeps down my spine. Dear God, no. The Castellos? The same people Trent saved us from months ago?

I can’t believe this. How am I back here again? One more day and I would have been in Washington.Just one more day. I can’t believe that after everything—everythingI’ve done for her, that Ellie would do this to me.

With a resigned sigh, I turn to the henchman. “Can I at least get a drink of water before I die?”

His mean stare flicks over my head to Slim before he grunts and hoofs his oversized ass off to the kitchen. Why is he even still here? His boss looks like he’s about to shit his pants and he doesn’t even seem the least bit concerned. Is he not afraid of the Castellos? Or do paid henchmen get spared in these scenarios?

Twisting my wrists against the restraints, I shuffle to the S-shaped sofa and plop down as comfortably as my tied hands will allow. “I’ve always underestimated just how greedy for money Ellie is,” I say to no one in particular. “Always crossing the line, pushing the limits, disregarding the rules.”

Slim glances at me with helpless eyes and urges, “If you have idea, any idea where she has gone, you can tell me now, yes? My contacts in Florida visit her address in Florida. It is bogus. There is a family there, they live there all their lives and do not know an Ellie.”

I sigh. Not at all surprised she lied about that, too. Ellie is that friend—the one you know but don’t know. “Trust me, if I knew anything I would’ve sang like a canary the minute you mentioned the Castellos,” I tell him. “Those are not people I would’veeverwanted to piss off again.”

The henchman returns with a glass of water. He holds it to my mouth, and I drink down to the last drop.

Then, I await my fate.

~

The elevator pingsand Slim shoots up from his chair like a boomerang. He runs his hand over his scalp and straightens his jacket like a groom whose bride is about to walk down the aisle.

Footsteps.

A lot of them.

Death sounds like a protest march.

Soon, six suavely suited Italians saunter into the main area.

I sit up as straight as my bound hands allow. I’d say I recognize the two darkly handsome, hot-as-hades men at the front of the pack, but I know it’s just the one. Stefano Castellos.

However, the man beside him of the same height and stature except with a brawnier build has identical facial features.Twins?

Both are distinguishable, though. Where Stefano’s raven-dark hair is short and styled, the other man’s hair is shoulder-length with streaks of copper at the front. And where Stefano has an air of mischievousness about him, the other man’s entire demeanor is menacing, mean, unapproachable—a walking threat.

As the men come to stop into the main area, the henchman disappears, as if wanting no part of what’s about to go down.

Stefano’s lookalike strolls over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, giving everyone his back.

“Stefa—” Slim starts but is abruptly cut off when Stefano smoothly pulls out his gun and points it straight at my head.

I stop breathing.

Squeeze my eyes shut.

Drag my shoulders up to my ears.

My heart hammers.

ThudThudThudThud