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“That’s her.”
“I trust you. Where do we go?”
“Grab clothes, yours or not, and cover up. They’ll be here to help you soon.” When she steps forward to go, the others follow with a look of pure relief but before they exit, I ask for a final favor. “Do not leave, but keep out of this area. Wait in the dressing room with the door locked if that makes you feel better, but stay away. This is a conversation you do not need to witness. Understood?”
“Yes,” they answer in unison.
Before the last girl closes the door to the dancer’s dressing room, I turn and meet the scared eyes of a man who has a few minutes left to live at best. “You want to know what the saddest part for you is?” He tries to answer my question, but instead spits out blood with fragments of teeth. His lips and gums are a bloody mess, the cuts very deep. “Don’t hurt yourself, lad. I couldn’t give a flying fuck if you want to know either way.”
“P-please.” Pathetic.
“I warned your boss. I made my demands very clear.”
Another cough, his face etched with pain. “Don’t.”
“Flavio didn’t listen, he didn’t stay away from her, and now I’m going to show him just how deep my reach goes.”
“Callum—”
“You’re a lackey with no real worth. I’m going to kill you, and I still don’t even know your name.” Standing over him, I aim my gun at his head and empty every last bullet in the clip and then exchange the empty one for the full one. His head is unrecognizable, what’s left is disgusting, and yet I empty that magazine in him too.
A real man doesn’t hurt or force a woman. A real man doesn’t follow a weak leader.
There’s silence as I walk out of the strip club, spliff in hand and a cloud of weed smoke behind me. I’m a mess, and those women inside have seen enough horror to last a lifetime.
Kray and Lindsey pull up a few minutes later. They take one look at me and share an amused look.
“Disposal or a delivery?” Kray walks to the boot of his car, finger on the key fob.
“Freeze him. This is personal.” I take in a deep drag and hold it, before letting the smoke exit through my nose. “As my second, you’re going to need more men with you. Assert yourself.”
He takes it for what it is. That was his interview and promotion. “Done.”
“And the women?” Lindsey has some first-aid items in hand. “What of them?”
“Whatever they need, make it happen. I’ll assume the cost.” Pointing at one of the water bottles, she tosses it, and I catch. “There’s another stop I need to make tonight before going back to Aliana’s. There’s a rat, and I’m going to find him.”
“Need help?” Kray offers.
“Not for this one.”
Forty-eight hours ago…
We’ve gone from Miami to Chicago and now Vegas in less than twenty-four hours, and a few things are weighing heavy on my mind:
I didn’t find Santis.
I didn’t see this attack coming.
I didn’t have time to call Aliana.
The latter one stings the worst. I’m not trying to ghost her, to avoid her, but right now Casper needs me, and I will do whatever it takes to help him save Aurora. For him. For my Venus.
Aurora is her best friend, and she has to be worried sick.
How could her father not realize his right hand’s intentions? His lack of background checks on the people he employs is concerning. Lazy, if I’m being honest.
“I’ll be home soon, love,” I whisper lowly, not that anyone can hear as I shoot the lock and then kick the doors to the run-down wedding chapel open. They slam against the wall, yet no movement comes from the inside. Quietly, we make our way in, Casper at the front, and he pauses when the view of an older gentleman playing the organ comes into our line of sight.
