Page 23

Arosso

I consigned myself to death today. Letting Captain Patrick Dall see me was the first real step toward the end.

Pacing upstairs in the stage house while the Dalls have a family reunion in the cellar is all I can do right now. That, and think .

Killing the captain has been off the table since I first laid eyes on Quinn. I’m a changed man, in the worst way. Twenty years ago, there’d be a wake of corpses on all sides. Bratva. Police. Anything to protect the Valentino family—even if we were scum back then.

Now here I am, protecting a young woman I hardly know, risking it all just so she can live.

One thing’s for sure… the Russians won’t stop ’til they get their payment.

I grab a can of soda and check my watch. An hour should be long enough for their catch-up. Time to bring Patrick his sugar and get to work.

As I walk down the stairs, genuine laughter reaches my ears. I cringe when realizing both of them have the same hearty laugh. Terrifying.

“Am I interrupting?” I ask, watching Patrick lean back on a dresser while still stretching out his legs, and Quinn sitting on the floor like she’s at a picnic.

“Nah, you’re alright, Valentino.”

“Let’s keep the name usage to a minimum, hm?” I say.

“I call him Silver.” Quinn smiles ear-to-ear, shooting me a private look.

“Can see why.” Patrick holds up his hand to catch the soda I toss to him.

I’m leaning against the wall, keeping a bit of distance so not to intrude. “Time to talk plan.”

“Booo. Ruining all the fun.” Quinn is so giddy I hardly recognize her.

I get it. I’d be a different man too if my family suddenly sprung back to life in a basement somewhere. It’s good to see her happy. That’s the whole point of this fucking situation anyway, isn’t it?

“What are you thinking?” Patrick asks.

“That you’re lucky it’s cold out. If you want some fresh air, we’ll bundle you up good so no one will recognize you.

Otherwise, it’d be pretty hard to hide a six-foot mountain of a man like yourself,” I scoff.

“And you.” I look at Quinn, doing my best to keep my gaze hard and cold.

“You’re a missing person now, so we’ll need to get you a wig at the least.”

“I’ll just wear a bun and a hat,” she protests. “A wig is ridiculous.”

I give her a stern stare, saying, “Don’t fuck with me.”

“Okay, fine.”

“Besides that, you have to tell me everything about Ferraro, and how deep his influence goes in the force,” I say.

“Not telling you shit if you think you’re going to wipe him off the face of the earth. That’s not how we do things.” He points a scolding finger my way.

“After he sold your daughter into vengeful slavery?” I arc my eyebrow.

“ Hey! ” The bear angers. “He’ll be rotting in a cell for the rest of his days for what he’s done. And I’ll be the first to make sure he loses all his teeth.” He balls a fist. “But we’re not executing anyone.”

“Let me make this very clear, Captain Dall. I’m already a dead man by going out on a limb for Quinn, so I have nothing to lose.”

Quinn’s face scrunches in confusion. Did she actually think we’d wind up some big happy family or something? I ignore her and focus only on Patrick.

“This is my operation. Don’t care how many rookies you’ve bossed around in your life, I ain’t one of them. In fact, you’re my rookie for the foreseeable future.”

He doesn’t like that, and I don’t care one bit. He loses nothing here and gains everything—his life back. I’m on the other side of this equation. If a dense pig really can’t see that, so be it. I’ve made a huge thankless mistake. Add it to the list.

“I don’t just execute people,” I say. “If there is a necessity, I’m going to take action.

If something can be avoided, I’ll keep your sentiment in mind.

But rest assured, you’re in my world now, and there are no orders to give.

” I push off of the wall and stalk closer to Patrick to make sure he understands.

He’s boiling.

Out of respect for Quinn, I suppose I should soften the blow a bit.

“Listen to me. The bratva isn’t going to stop until they get their payment, and they have your Ferraro as their pawn.

They’re going to investigate what happened to the second van in their plan to take Quinn—which they’ll never find.

But that doesn’t mean they’ll stop. Do you understand this fact?

Your daughter’s life is in unspeakable danger. The only way she lives, is with me .”

Patrick takes a long breath, loosening one of his fists. “You say they won’t stop?”

“They won’t stop.” I shake my head.

“Then give them their original prize.” He tenses his jaw.

“It’s too late for all that.” I laugh sarcastically. “There’s already a ghost that pulled you out.”

“And one that can push me back in,” he suggests.

“ Dad! ” Quinn yells, but he ignores her.

“Would they really ask more questions if I just showed up back at that warehouse?” he asks.

“After the other night? They have two dead men now. They’ll want more payment,” I reply. “Instead, I’m thinking of taking out the one who wants the revenge in the first place.”

“Patrovski’s brother.” Patrick folds his big arms.

“Yuri. Yes. Except I can’t do any of that while the police have an arm in this. And if you magically walk back in like nothing’s happened, Ferraro will have you killed. Rest a-fucking-ssured. ”

“Maybe we can bait Ferraro with my reappearance. Then arrest him.”

“Yeah, the ‘cartel’ just happened to let you go . Yeah fucking right.”

Quinn gets to her feet with an angry mug. She doesn’t look much like her dad, but some expressions, my God, what am I falling for here?

“ Excuse me .” She pushes her father. “No freakin’ bait , no sacrificing yourself. I just got you back by some miracle. I don’t care if you have to stay in this weird house for the rest of your life—”

“Little Bear—”

“ No. Don’t ‘Little Bear’ me. We’re not rushing into any of this.”

“I agree.” I pace away. “We let the heat die down. So get comfortable. I’ll be back with your disguises and some food.”

“Can we walk around upstairs?” Quinn asks.

I eye her father, judging him. “I’m not quite there yet.”

xxx

Days go by, and it’s agonizing to be around Quinn and not wrap her up into one of our little games. Seeing her walk around with a towel hardly covering the tops of her thighs… it’s a sick form of torture, and she knows it too. I see those looks.

Letting them up one at a time is my compromise for now. Still, I can’t bring myself to ravage her while her father is downstairs. What am I, a fucking teenager?

She knows my trepidation and teases me all the same. Bitch.

She flashes her ass at me—that perfectly shaped, pale ass—and when she bends down to get something, a pink set of lips makes vats of blood flow into one location.

“Silver,” she says innocently.

“ What ?” I growl.

“It’s time I leave the house. I’ll wear the stupid wig.”

I squint at her suspiciously. “What do you have in mind?”

She swishes her towel back and forth. “A date.”

The idea piques my interest, even if it is dangerous as hell.

The Russian heat hasn’t died down in the slightest. John Scar tells me the police investigation has tripled, linked to the cartel again—which means Ferraro is conducting his own side investigation while misdirecting the entire force. It’s madness out there.

“You seem like you know what you want.” I’m very suspicious.

“I do.” She flirts one shoulder and coyly struts up to me, her bare feet leaving prints on the floor.

I don’t back away. The pleats in my pants tighten. Every part of me wants to rip off that towel and see her shapely breasts bounce and rash from whipping it off her.

“Now that Dad’s safe and free, kind of, I’ve been thinking.” She takes the lapels of my suit jacket, clear nail polish shimmering in the light. “Take me on set of Chilling Desires . Puh-lease .”

I scoff and turn away. “This kid.”

“C’mon! I said I’ll wear the wig. What else do you want, sunglasses? Fake glasses? I can do that. I’m dying to know if they’re going to shoot a continuation to the tree branch murder.” She pushes herself onto me, lifting her towel just enough so my rock-hard cock touches her clit.

Biting her lip and holding eye contact with me makes it almost impossible to resist.

Knock! Knock!

Even though it’s supposed to be soundproof, the cellar door hammers back and forth, and we both jump in place.

In a fit of anger, I point for her to get the hell away from me. Thank God the door is soundproof, otherwise, Patrick would hear all the scurrying. I swear… This is ridiculous .

Tucking my erection north under my belt and whipping the flaps of my suit jacket shut, I wash my hands before getting the door.

I open the door. “Is the sky falling?”

“Getting antsy down there.” He pushes passed me, and I pray to God he doesn’t notice Quinn’s footprints shining in the light. “I have an idea about Ferraro.”

He’s preoccupied, good.

“What?”

“You say the Russians are probably going to give him a time limit to get one of us, and if he doesn’t deliver—” He gestures a slit throat.

“That’s right.”

“Well, what if we lure him out with an anonymous message that you have his ‘package’?”

I rub my chin.

“You can even take a picture of me tied up.”

“Out of the fucking question. Never leave a trail,” I say.

“He can’t go to anyone with it. The Russians would take his head if they knew the magnitude of his blunder, he can’t go to the cops with it…”

“Hm. What’s something special that only Ferraro would know comes from you? Badge number is too obvious,” I think out loud.

“I’ve got something.” Patrick snaps his fingers. “We can send him a letter with this date.” He rolls the sleeve of his wrinkled shirt, showing a numbered tattoo on the back of his arm. “It was our first big bust when we were only four years on the job. It started our promotions rolling.”

“Alright. That’ll work.” I pace. “We send him that date as proof, tell him to meet alone, and scoop him up? Hm. That means he’ll bring snipers—”

“Ferraro doesn’t have snipers,” Patrick scoffs.

“Just like he doesn’t have enough gall to put his own wife in harm’s way and have you abducted, right?”

Patrick’s face loses its color.

“Who do you think directed the bratva straight to your room? The man is not who you think he is. And he’s not the only one the bratva has on the inside. Trust me when I say, he has snipers .”

Patrick looks at me in awe. “You’re not just some mafia grunt, are you?”

“Did you take me for one?”

“Not really.”

“You want me to make this plain as day for you?” I pace up to him. “Consider me retired special forces. That’s about the equivalent in your world.”

“And I’m captain of homicide. Maybe if you stop with the dick measuring, we can put our heads together and make a decision.”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” I grumble.

“Suppose it is.” He leans on the kitchen island.

Just then, Quinn comes down the stairs, dressed this time, with a towel drying her hair. She gasps. “I thought we’re both not allowed up at the same time?”

“Your father had ants in his pants.”

“Ugh. Who even says that?” Quinn starts to flirt, but quickly stops herself. “So… what’s the plan?”