AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It probably should have pissed him off, but like all things Frankie, it did the opposite. She’d fought for her freedom by all means necessary. He more than respected that; it drove him fucking crazy. Still, a few questions lingered after discovering it. If Frankie had planned on killing him, why hadn’t she?
He came to one conclusion.
The same reason he couldn’t kill her when Crazy A demanded it of him.
“What’s that?” Pretty Boy asked, pointing to the flyer. Anteros reached behind him and held up the red paper.
“Fucking Emilio,” Little O muttered.
“I’m pretty certain Emilio is too busy getting high to bother with insurrection,” Anteros replied, setting down the paper. “No, this is something else. A red herring, maybe.” Anteros just wasn’t sure what it was distracting them from.
“We still need to handle him,” Pretty Boy said. “The princess is enough to deal with, we don’t need to add a prince.”
“Agreed,” Little O said. Since his twin’s death, Little O had been less humorous and lively. He generally sat in the corner, arms folded, only piping up occasionally. Since Crazy A was always quiet, the conversation fell to Anteros and Pretty Boy.
So silence fell as they contemplated what to do about Emilio. They were stretched thin with Big O dead, and the task couldn’t be entrusted to a soldier. Anteros exhaled, leaning farther back against his desk. Unlike the warehouse office, the club’s back room was sleek. The couch was quilted leather with chrome accents and dozens of ornate empty frames adorned the walls, gold lockets dangling from the hollow squares.
“I have an idea,” Nikolai piped up.
“You’re still here?” Pretty Boy asked.
“I’ve been in contact with someone at 72 who has information about the leak,” Nikolai continued, unperturbed.
Anteros narrowed his eyes. “I know everyone at 72.”
“He’s new,” Nikolai responded. “Captain just approved the transfer.” Anteros remembered there had been someone new around the time Giovani had died, but whoever it was hadn’t officially transferred. Anteros had final say on all transfers. He would have to have a word with the captain.
“And you just happened upon him?” Crazy A drawled, unconvinced.
“Of course not,” Nikolai said. “When you all sent me down there last week to pick up that very important stack of blank papers, he approached me.”
“Oh, yeah,” Little O chuckled, but only a little. “I remember that.”
“Who said you could talk to anyone, anyway?” Pretty Boy asked. “Isn’t that above your pay grade? You’re supposed to shine Boss’s shoes.”
“I’m trying to get shit done, which is better than taking two weeks to get analysis on one fucking needle,” Nikolai snapped.
“Oh shit.” Pretty Boy raised his hands in the air in mock surrender, laughing. “Kitty’s got claws.” Nikolai bristled and launched to his own defense. Soon the room erupted in argument, everyone’s voices melding into one grating sound.
“Enough,” Anteros said evenly, and the room went hush. “We’ll go talk to Nikolai’s man unless one of you has something better to offer.” Little O folded and unfolded his arms. Pretty Boy leaned forward on the couch, leather shifting beneath him. The club’s low, muffled music vibrated in the air, magnifying the silence. Anteros stood off the desk, unfolding his arms. “Sounds like we’re taking a road trip.”
As everyone filed out, Anteros reached back over his desk and pulled open the drawer with the phone. An unread message notification blared in the top corner. He looked over his shoulder to see that everyone was already out of the room then opened it.
See you soon.
Levi Luchessi had long mahogany hair pulled back into an austere bun, tan skin, and hazel eyes. With hands behind his back and a firm scowl, he appeared every bit the cop. That bothered Anteros. Anteros knew a straight cop when he saw one, and this guy looked it.
“Your father was a soldier,” Anteros said, resting a foot behind him on the brick wall of the precinct. The alley they were in was tight, the air bitter. People walked on the sidewalk a few feet away, not paying them any attention. The Wolves were stationed at the mouth, just in case anyone did.
Just a few blocks uptown, Frankie was at Lucia’s club. Anteros couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing. Was she getting ready to meet him?
“He was,” Levi responded, bringing Anteros’s attention back.
“He died when you were young.” Only a sliver of light pierced the alley, and in that sliver was a small patch of snow. Levi nodded, coming into the light and crushing the powder.
“It was before I came to power but after my days as a soldier,” Anteros said. “I just barely missed him, and that seems to be a theme. No one can recall a Luchessi.”
Barely a beat passed before Levi replied, “He was an unremarkable man.” Levi remained the ever stoic officer with his hands behind his back, but his tone was vicious.
