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“If we’re going to rise to the top, we have to anticipate how they think and calculate their moves. We have to always be at least two steps ahead. This positions us just right with the Russians as well.”
This gets his attention. He runs a hand through his hair, his curiosity piqued. “How so?”
Matteo will conclude from our recent incident that it has to be the Russians behind all of this. The Russians are not to be taken for granted. Although their numbers are no match for ours, their reach can offset that if you attack them head-on. Matteo will set a plan in motion to make them pay. And this is where we come in.”
Kai grins— my devious plan already forming in his mind. “You’re one psycho motherfucker. I feel for anyone who isn’t us. We’re going to play double agents, aren’t we?”
“Yes,” I confirm. “We need the Russians indebted to us. With our reduced numbers, we can use their allegiance. We will still work to rebuild our clan, but it doesn’t hurt to have coverage from all angles in the interim.”
“How do we approach that without immediately being suspicious? Their outfit is in Los Angeles.”
“Leave that to me. We will need to let things settle here first. They will be watching us more than ever now, so it’s important not to give them anything of consequence.”
“Okay. Well, I’m going to get back. The socialite I’ve been guarding is scheduled to return from Paris with her parents tonight. I will resume life status quo until you give me another directive.”
“Talk soon, brother,” I say as I lead the way out.
I head straight to my penthouse. These next few days will be crucial. I will wait to reach out to Matteo until tomorrow. Once I cross my threshold, I must resume the act that I’m unaware my place is currently bugged. Kai and I already confirmed it that day when he returned with his sweeper. Rather than remove them and alert them that we’re aware of their presence, we opted to use them to our advantage. Let the Italians listen in so we can feed them whatever it is we decide to. The man Bobby supposedly showed the sub penthouse to was actually shown my place. I don’t think Bobby knew he was being used, but he will pay with his life all the same. He knew enough to know he shouldn’t have brought anyone into my penthouse.
The rogue clan members’ family, minus their kids, will meet this same fate. There is just no way to decipher what or wasn’t shared with them. It’s our family or theirs. I just have to wait until the Italians and the other Irish Clan get wind of their death. I need them to believe that this is a further attack on us as a whole to clean house. The theatric performance of my discovery of their deaths will occur just under an hour from now. My telephone call to Kai will be a performance just for them— for those who are somewhere listening in. Matteo will know of this massacre and how we chose to spin it before I bring it to him tomorrow. I’m sure of it.
Now that I’m alone with my thoughts, my mind drifts back to Aurora and how this will play out for us. Rationally, I know that I should move up my timeline with her. I need her father to let me claim her as my own to strengthen our numbers, but she and I are not at a place where I can get her to keep our secret. The secret that I was the one who took her. We made real progress when she revealed what she overheard, but if I take her virginity, that progress will shatter into a million pieces. I have no other way but to make her fall for me— make her see that I’m the better choice over that other dick her father wants her to end up with.
I will make her fall for me … I just can’t fall with her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Aurora
1 WEEK LATER
It’s been another week since I’ve seen Lennon—no more special baths or hair washing. Instead, I had to use the crutches given to me and the wooden bench in the shower. It took some getting used to, but Daniel, the paramedic, showed me how to splint it to lessen the discomfort. I finish my dinner early as I’m not all that hungry from the very filling lunch. I know I have about thirty minutes before Mr. Doyle comes to escort me to my room, so I decide to explore a bit before he comes. I know not to venture over to the East Wing again, but I’m curious to see what’s in the basement— maybe a theater, gym, or even an indoor pool. I tuck both crutches opposite my fracture ribs and hop down each step. When I reach the bottom, I’m winded. It will be a bitch getting back up, but maybe Mr. Doyle would let me watch a movie if there is a theater. I’ve already read the few books left in my room. The how-to books on crocheting and knitting help pass the time, but it’s nothing I plan on trying.
The first door I come to is cracked open. I startle at the sound of loud gurgling and choking. I know I should turn back around as fast as these crutches will allow me, but my curiosity wins out. I’ll just sneak a peek, careful not to make a sound. I stick my head through to get a better view, and I’m not prepared for the visual I find. A man is in a chair tilted at an angle with a cloth over his face. His feet and arms are bound to the chair. Another tall man stands over him, pouring copious amounts of water over his face as he squirms and fights to breathe. Oisín stands behind the man, witnessing all of this but is doing nothing to stop it. I feel for the man being tortured, but I need to get the hell back upstairs. I don’t want to be another witness to this. I’m about to back away when suddenly the man being drowned is given a reprieve. His chair lands on all fours, and the cloth falls away. My mouth falls open, and an uncontrollable gasp escapes. I try to back away, but trip backward over my crutches instead.
“Stop!” I yell as tears spring from my eyes, my ass on the floor. Why is that man doing that to him, and why is Oisín allowing it?
“Goddamn, how much incompetence am I going to have to keep dealing with?” he yells. “Unstrap me!”
Oisín immediately begins to do as he commands. “Sorry, sir. I will find out why she wasn’t secure in her room,” he promises as he undoes all the restraints. “Apollo, you’re dismissed,” he tells the Paul Bunion-looking guy.
“Not good enough,” Lennon booms. “Fire whoever is fucking responsible for her not being in her room right now.”
“Yes, sir,” Oisín says as he steps over me still on the floor followed by Paul Bunion on his heels.
I’m still crying when Lennon reaches me. His arctic gaze bores into me. He is beyond pissed. He reaches down for me, and I curl into a ball to fend from any potential blows that may come my way. I’m shaking uncontrollably.
“I’m not going to hit you, Aurora,” he says as I wait for the strike that never comes. “Not that your noisiness doesn’t deserve it. I would never hit a woman in anger. Even I have my limits.”
He lifts me off the floor and carries me farther into the torture chamber before setting me onto the chair he was just in. My eyes widen. I shake my head in a silent plea.
“Relax. I’m not going to waterboard you either,” he growls.
So that’s what they were doing to him. “Why were you letting them do that to you?” I ask, my lips still quivering.
“I’ll ask the questions here,” he deflects. “Why are you crying? Why are you so concerned?”
“It scared me,” I admit. “I thought that those men who wanted you dead sent someone to drown you— all the while Oisín just watched.”
