Page 80 of Vendetta

Mr. Trigger Happy kept his rifle aimed at my back as we walked up the cobble drive, and as I rounded the fountain, the front door flew open, and Lorenzo stepped out.

Well, shit.

Was not expecting that.

His face was green with old bruises, and he looked tired with purple shadows under his eyes, but he was still the same old slimy weasel as always. His being here changed nothing. I would stick to the plan even if it made me sick to think about.

I turned and stared at the guy with the gun. “You can go now. As you can see, I made it to the house.”

Anger pinched his features, and slowly the barrel lowered. I didn’t care if he was mad. He was rude, and I’d be telling my father about it as soon as I got inside. Maybe after a shower and a nap.

As I approached the door, Lorenzo’s scowl deepened.

“Fancy seeing you here.” His words were slurred, and spittle oozed from the corner of his mouth.

What the fuck was his problem?

“Uh, thanks for the welcome party,” I said, not sure why he was standing there blocking the door. “Can I go in?” Why I had to ask this idiot if I could enter my own home was annoying, but whatever it took, I guessed.

He stepped aside, and I walked through the door. The house smelled wrong. Where was the scent of expensive cigars, coffee, and fresh baking? I was used to that, but instead it was like someone had dumped a pile of unwashed clothes—worn too many days in a row—in the middle of the hall. My nose wrinkled at the affront.

The door banged shut behind me, and I spun around. Lorenzo still hadn’t said anything else, which was strange. His face seemed crooked somehow. Alphas, even gross ones, healed incredibly fast. Something serious must’ve happened to leave bruises like that.

I started to ask him about it, but remembered I didn’t care, so instead I asked the more important question. “Where’s my father?”

Lorenzo just scowled at me. Fucking weirdo. I didn’t actually need an answer. My dad would be around here somewhere. So, I left him standing at the door with his dick in his hand, figuratively, and ventured deeper into the house.

“Maria,” I called toward the kitchen. No response, so I peeked in. The lights were off, and nothing was cooking. Maybe she’d gone to the store. It wasn’t her normal time for that, but not out of the question.

When I got to my father’s office, I knocked on the solid wood door, but again nothing. None of this was adding up. Where was everyone? I pushed open the door and the whole room was wrong. My father’s massive mahogany desk had been replaced with some metal and glass contraption. All the shelves were empty of his leather-bound books, and in their place were random knickknacks. My heart began to race.

What in the hell was happening?

I backed out of the office, trying to calm my shaking hands.

Was I in the right house?

Everything seemed off. I ran down the hall past the empty offices that my father’s pack occupied when they were alive, past the barren rooms that they’d lived in seven years ago, to the only other place I’d imagine that my father would be.

I threw open his bedroom door, and it crashed against the wall.

Instead of the heavy dark wood furniture and burgundy accents, the far wall was covered in floor to ceiling mirrors. A giant disco ball spun over the top of the shiny chrome bed frame dominating the center of the room, draped in yellow and lime green linens. The decor was certainly a choice. It lacked the old-world charm that was steeped into this house’s bones. But by far the worse thing were the naked strangers in the bed, tag-teaming what looked like a bedraggled omega.

My eyes… burn them with bleach.

The scent was cloying, and I gagged on it. The air was drenched in humid sex and sweat. I must have been too busy retching to notice Lorenzo coming up behind me.

“Stupid bitch.”

As Lorenzo’s slurred voice reached me, a flash of movement had me turning to face him, but too late to avoid the hammer fist that landed against my temple.

The last thing I remembered was a woman’s scream right before my head hit the pretty terracotta floor, and I blacked out.

Chapter 52

Rosalina

Drip.