Chapter 0007

BELLA

Cole was on the terrace of the six-storey apartment across the street from Raffy’s bar, while I was in the alleyway at the back that smelt worse than a sewer and rotten bodies, which wasn’t surprising considering the territory I was in. I feared stumbling on an actual dead body, as it was so dark.

“It’s getting cold up here, B.” Cole’s voice came through one of the mini earbuds plugged in. The sound cracked because of the whooshing sound of the chilly breeze.

“I’m standing in a cold alleyway wearing a tight mini-dress, Cole. I think you’ll survive,” I shuddered.

“Sorry, B.”

“Any update on that side?” I asked. The sound of crunching and chewing reached my ears. Cole was like that. He preferred food before missions. But if anything went down by fault, he’d puke everything out. “Hello, I know you’re hungry, but can we please concentrate?” I yelled.

“Oh, yeah. There’s no sign of him yet.”

“Great!”

“And you? No one on your side yet?”

I groaned. “Not yet.” The sound of the door unlocking alerted me, and I jumped on my heels. Lucky timing. “There’s someone coming out. I need to go.”

“Wait!” Cole panicked. “Remember, don’t knock a Made-man out. They have different passes. If you pose as a member, you’ll get caught,” he said in a breath.

“How do I know which one’s a Made-man?”

“They always wear black, and they have a batch on their chest. A spade.”

My eyes widened. “A spade? Why wasn’t I told before?”

“I forgot.”

“Cole, you don’t forget details this important!” I snapped my eyes shut. “I have to go.”

Spade. The men who had stopped the incident back at Mambo’s bar a few days ago had the spade broach, according to Harley. My heart drummed in my chest. Something was happening in the Mafia world that the outside people weren’t aware of.

I kept keen on the door and took my position in the corner as I had planned. A man walked out, rubbing his nape and yawning. Thanks to the bulb on the doorframe, I could see him and his attire clearly. A red blazer on top of a sky blue shirt and black pants. I tried to look for a batch on his chest. None.

I bent down, made a retching sound, and waited for him to react. Walking down the small steps, he followed my voice and stepped into the shadow, where the light barely touched.

“Hey lady, you okay?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m fine.” I whimpered. "I think I've had too much to drink."

He reeked of alcohol, which was more to my advantage. He rubbed my back while I dug into my purse to pull out the injection with a proper dosage of ketamine, or what these people called the Special K to keep him knocked out for the next five to six hours. I slammed my hands on his arm and injected him.

“What the fuck, lady?” He grunted, but he couldn’t react much as he fell to the floor.

“Sorry.”

My work didn’t end at that. I had to make certain no one would find out. He certainly hadn’t come to the club alone, which meant if he was gone for long, people would start looking. Worse, if he were a worker.

I wasted the next few minutes pulling him to the deep corner of the alleyway with all my strength, searching his pockets for the pass and his phone, which I immediately turned off. Because of the Ketamine, he wouldn’t even remember anything and, lucky for me, there were no cameras here.

The pass was round and glossy, the sign of clover printed in yellow on its black surface.

“You okay, B?” Cole asked.

“I think I barely have any energy left,” I said, panting for breath. “But I’m okay.”

Adjusting my sequin dress, I entered the club through the back door. The pass was collateral if something went down. A long hallway with bright walls and vitrified floors led all the way to the main section of the club.

I walked past the doors, wondering what was behind them, and the stairs that led to the floor above. What were the upper floors for, given it was a three-storey building? Many Capos had offices in every club and every building they owned. Maybe Adonis Vitale did too. No, not maybe. He definitely did.

My pencil heel made a stomping noise against the tiles as I followed the sound of music to the double doors at the end of the hallway.

The doors suddenly opened, and two men stepped out. My heart picked a pace when their gaze landed on me. They didn’t react and simply walked past me as if they hadn’t seen me. I sighed in relief.

Hiding the earbud with my straightened locks, I slipped into the enormous room and made my way toward the bar, my heart beating at the rhythmic pace of the music and the bass. No one had noticed me, which was a good thing.

There was an elongated bar counter with over twenty stools tucked in, a dance floor with LED light pads in the centre and huge round couches with tables by the corners, under the shade of a mezzanine floor. Two bouncers guarded the stairs that led up to the VIP lounge and the only ones they were letting through were Vitale’s men, who looked brawnier compared to normal men.

“Qui vive!” Cole squealed, making me widen my eyes in surprise. I regained my conscience in seconds. “Dom’s here, but—” I was about to speak when the bartender looked at me and grinned. I shot him a smile and turned back to the dance floor. “There’s no sign of Adonis.” Cole’s words made my smile drop. “Dom’s alone.”

I frowned and twisted my head toward the main entrance as the doors opened and a man walk in. It was no doubt Domenico Guerra. I had spent hours memorising his features—slightly tanned skin, dirty blond hair, square face, thin lips and trimmed patchy beard.

He took off his sunglasses and scanned the area before moving up to the VIP area, leaving the suited man who had accompanied him behind.

Inspecting my surroundings while standing idly at the bar could draw unwanted attention. These men were more intelligent and more cautious than most people I’d dealt with. I walked to the dance floor, skilfully brushing my eyes across the entire prohibited floor.

Adonis had decided to not show up on the very day I came here. How bad could my luck be?

A tall man approached me, shaking his head to the beat. I shot him a fake smile, pretending to enjoy myself. God, the things I did for my projects. He took my hand and twirled me around.

A gasp leapt out of my lips as he shoved himself against my back and gripped my waist with his hands. My senses were extra alerted by the surroundings. The Made-men sauntered around the place. Prostitutes roamed around the private seating areas. This place wasn't just a club.

The hand on my waist tightened, and I glanced at him. He had stiffened on his spot with his eyes focused toward the corner-most sitting area with a sense of fear tingeing them. He hastily withdrew his hands from my waist.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am.” With that, he walked away while I stood, embarrassed and puzzled at the same time.

I turned to where he was looking. My gaze fell on the silhouette of a tall and well-built man, his face barely visible under the dim red lights. Even though I couldn’t see him, I knew he was looking at me. His penetrating gaze was more powerful than a shooting bullet.

I peeled my eyes away from him to gather my senses. This man's attention had unnerved me in a way I doubted even Adonis Vitale could. Staying for a minute longer seemed like a bad idea, so I slowly exited the club, not making eye contact with anyone.

***

ADONIS

“Have you talked to Dom?” I asked Julian, my enforcer, as he walked into the room, his hands inside his pocket. He shook his head. Sighing, I closed the laptop and met his gaze once again. “That moron’s been dodging my calls.”

Julian snorted. “No one dodges you, Capo. He’s probably with his sister. It’s Friday, remember?” I closed my eyes and cussed. It was Friday already. Another week had gone by just like that. “He’ll be here after dropping his sister off.”

I nodded. “So, what have you got?”

“The lackeys we caught from that club, Mambo, shit everything out,” he snorted. “Only one of them was our men. A rat.”

“You caught three, right?”

“Yes, the other two were just contract workers. They were only told to spike the drinks and make sure the drugs didn’t go waste.” He ran a hand over the blond stubble on his head. “They were offered a lot of money.”

“What did you do to these contractors?”

“Kept them in a separate cell. Thought we could use them later.”

“Hmm.”

“The rat confessed he knew Nico was tied to the Ivanovs. Nico pulled off three more club ambush like this one and he had all those girls transported to the warehouse here in New York. Only, the rat doesn’t know where it is.”

“What did you think?” I stood up from the chair and walked around the glass table. The walls of this office were thick, which was why, despite being a floor above a club, no sound could interrupt business here. “Does he really not know where this warehouse is?”

“I believe he does,” Julian said with utter confidence. The reason he was my best enforcer was that he was quick in assessing the behaviour of his opponent and bloody brilliant at thinking. “He was lying through his teeth, which, somehow, I managed not to break.” I arched a brow, and he said, “Just pulled a tooth or two out. Not much harm was done.”

I laughed. “You practised restraint.”

He grinned. “Also, he said the name of the Ivanov we’re dealing with. Durant.”

The name set off every alarm in my body. He was who I had been searching for the past four years, since we had killed the eldest of them. Durant Ivanov. It was a good thing that he was in New York, because, no matter where he was hidden, he would be found.

“That just made my day a lot better.”

“Durant Ivanov takes these girls into that warehouse and has them... tested.” The look of uneasiness on his face gave me a hint of what he truly meant. “B-by doctors. Only the virgins remain untouched since their rates are higher.”

“Durant is running a whole team—no, chain—of traitors in my territory.” There was disbelief marring my voice. How deep had they gone? With my jaw twitching, I spoke. “I would like to talk to these contractors.”

“Sure, Capo. I had them shifted to safehouse13.”

“Good.” I patted Julian’s shoulder and walked past him to the door. “You can go about your own night now.”

“Are you heading down?”

“Yes, I need to... blow some steam.” I paused by the door and gave Julian a once-over. “Also, never go bald again. The back of your head looks like the tip of a dick.”

Julian’s lips twitched, but he forced his smile back and gave a curt nod. I moved down to the club below; the place buzzing with people. One of our wise-guys that worked at the club hurried toward me the moment I stepped into the corner booth—the area no one other than me and Dom used. Why? No one could see us here while we could see the entire club from the dimness and the shade of it.

“Capo, Winy on her way. She’s with a customer right now,” the wise-guy yelled to make his voice audible over the bass.

I looked at him, and he swiftly shifted his gaze to his feet. “Tell her to get her ass down here. Now. I don’t have all night to spare.”

He gave a nod, his face shifting to that of tension. I dropped onto the semi-round couch and leaned back as he walked away. Grabbing the bottle of scotch and a tumbler from the tray centring the small glass table before me, I poured a raw drink.

Sex wasn’t something I wholly enjoyed anymore. It was more of an activity I attended when I was pissed or out of place or needed to get myself off. I had been fucking whores for the past few years, or people with whom I had little to no connection at all. That was one reason women knew me as the emotionless bastard and the men testified to it, seeing my brooding face and twitching jaw.

I emptied the tumbler in a gulp and slammed the glass on the table, the earthy aftertaste of cigars still lingering in my mouth.

Just when I was about to yell for Winy again, my eyes spotted someone. Someone I hadn’t expected to see here. Someone who shouldn’t have been here.

It was the same woman I had seen yesterday. She wore a sleeveless silver dress that skimmed down her hourglass body, leaving a fair share of her thighs to view. The sight of them gave me ideas. I would’ve loved to run my tongue along her long, lean legs, tracing all the way to the insides of her thighs. I could bet she was sweet and delicious. Her lace stilettos clung to them like vines around poles and her hair rested on one side of her shoulders.

I didn’t know what bothered me more: the way she grooved her ass, looking like a fucking enchantress? Or the sight of her dancing with one of my men whose hands were practically kneading her hips?

Every part of me wanted to pull her away from him, drag her into a room upstairs, tear her clothes off, and fuck her into compliance. Even worse, I wanted to kill that man—my soldier.

I didn’t even know her, and yet—

I gritted my teeth and narrowed my eyes.

Was my stare not bothering her? Was she that ignorant of the way men around her watched her and wanted her? Most of my men, including the one she was dancing with, wanted to ravage her like a fucking piece of meat. And clearly, they took her for women like Winy—a whore.

Her dance partner seemed to be notified of my death glare since his gaze shot to where I was. Terror froze his posture, bringing a smirk to my lips, and I signed for him to move away with my fingers. I hadn’t particularly done that for anyone. I didn’t care who my men danced with, but this woman wasn’t meant for this place. For any of us.

The soldier obeyed, said something to her and hurtled out of the dance floor.

The woman looked surprised and whipped her head in my direction. Her eyes fell on me for a brief second, but then she looked away, just like she had yesterday. Moments later, she bolted out of the club, seeming shaky with her steps.

She hadn’t seen me in the club's dimness, which I didn’t mind. A part of me didn’t want her to know who I was.

Winy appeared in front of me, her eyes scanning me with scrutiny. “Rough day, I suppose.”

“Don’t act like you fucking care.” I parted my legs and her eyes zoned in, shock filling them. “On your knees today.”

She didn’t utter a word as she sat on her knees between my legs, unbuckled my pants and pulled them down with my briefs, freeing my already hard cock. I was so fucking angry that I wanted to rip someone apart. The thought of it was a big excitement for me, a huge turn-on.

I looked down at Winy as she stroked me with her hands, slowly. Fuck. I didn’t want slow. I curled my hand around hers and sped the movement.

I respected women, those who could tell a man off for something they didn’t want, those who stood their ground and held their heads high no matter what, even if they were whores. There hadn’t many of those I saw in the highlight and Winy definitely wasn’t one of them, because she let herself be downed by men, and belittled by the bartenders. Like a fucking coward. Like Leona.

Raking my hand through her blonde hair, I pulled her mouth on me. She licked the tip with her tongue and wrapped her lips around me. I shoved myself deeper inside her mouth until the tip of my cock hit the back of her throat. She gagged.

I could see the qualms in her eyes, but she was too afraid of me to protest.

My hold on her hair tightened. My cock twitched, and I came with a hard slam into her mouth. The corner of her eyes glistened as she winced and tried to gulp all the cum.

“Get the fuck out of here,” I said as soon as she pulled back.

She didn’t argue and sprinted away, leaving me panting. I took the tissues from the table and wiped my dick clean before putting my pants back on.

I was a sick bastard, many said, and not without reason. Even though it was Winy’s mouth that took some of my anger out, I imagined it to be someone else. I imagined Leona.

My mind was filled with the sight of the woman from across the cafe.

This place was a strictly members-only club. The ones who had the pass were close business partners or people to whom I had allowed access. I chose the workers, starting from the bartenders to the whores. Only the VIP members were allowed to bring guests inside.

So, the question remained—how the fuck was she here?