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“You’d be a wrecking ball determined to get her back.”
He puts his hand on my shoulder. “And we will get her back.”
“But in what condition?” Asking the question slams the reality into my chest.
“You said it yourself,” Dex says. “She’s strong. She’s surprised you up to this point, and I have a feeling she’ll surprise you with just how resilient she’ll be in this. She’s a fighter.”
I look out over New York City again, wondering if I’ll ever see this city the same way when this is all over tonight. Right now, all I see is danger and death. I see bad and no good. I don’t see light, and I’m nearly blinded in my need to hunt down Luciano and chop his body into a million pieces.
“I can’t help feeling as if this is my fault,” I confess. “If I had done my job better, Luciano would never have known Rowan was involved. I got sloppy. I got… I think I let my ego get in the way that I was good at what I did so—”
“You are good at your job,” Dex interrupts. “Don’t blame yourself for this. You did everything to the best of your ability.”
“My father wouldn’t have gotten Rowan caught.”
“You did your job,” Dex states again with more firmness than before. “I have no doubt in my mind about that.”
“And Katja’s right,” I add. “You and I have allowed every piece of scum to enter The Whitney. Our fathers had higher standards. We put the guests in danger. We put Rowan in danger.”
Dex nods. “I’ll agree with you on that. This has been a huge wake up call, and we need to do better. We will do better.” He turns to face the men on The Rooftop. “Seeing this gathering. Working with Atlas the last couple of days reminds me of how it used to be. We may all walk in the underbelly of the world, but we do it with class, with etiquette, with rules of decorum. The Whitney will house those kinds of men from now on. Period.”
“No more rats,” I add.
“I give my word on that. And when we open London, the same rules will apply. It’s a gentleman's game or no play at all.”
Dex and I make eye contact. He’s reading me as only my best friend and brother can.
“I’m focused,” I say, returning to his original question. “You don’t have to worry about me.” I look over his shoulder at all the men getting ready to leave. “Let’s get her back, and let’s clean up the filth.”
Chapter Eighteen
ROWAN
I don’t know how to feel about being manhandled by the three Luciano henchmen as they push and pull me along through the mansion. While in the van, I’d kinda assumed they were driving me to some remote location where they could dump my body after old man Luciano took his revenge for killing his son. The good news about being in his home is it might give me more time to escape. The bad news is not knowing what he plans on doing to me while I’m still alive.
The place is like a maze and I try to pay attention to where they’re taking me so I can retrace my steps in the off chance I can break free. While I’m grateful, I’m unnerved that they haven’t tried to cover my eyes to keep from seeing my location or their faces. I guess they don’t expect me to get a chance to identify them since I’ll be dead.
I shake my left arm as I walk, still trying to bring the feeling back. I’m not an idiot. I know the chances of me fighting this many thugs off is slim to none, but I want the use of my arm back anyway. I’d love to show them the same treatment I gave JV.
When they shove me into a room that has a gray tarp laid out in the center of the room, I know I’ve reached the end of the line. It would be so easy to panic… or worse, cry, but I don’t want to give them the satisfaction.
When the three men stop in the middle of the room, I know they expect me to stop as well, but in a split second, I decide to make a run for the sliding glass door on the far side of the room. I don’t know where it leads, and I don’t know if it’s unlocked, but I know my odds are better there than back through the house where we’d passed several guards with guns.
“Stop her!” one of them shouts as another grabs my arm. I’m able to shake him off and make it all the way to the door before his body crashes into me, sandwiching me against the glass.
“That was a stupid thing to do,” he growls against my ear.
