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Hanging up the phone, I started barking orders. “Call Stephan and tell him to get jet ready. Then call Maria and tell her that her vacation is over. Time to earn that paycheck. Call Mr. Davenport and tell him I need a penthouse for my stay. Then call Advantage Security. I want to speak to with the motherfucker in charge.”
Chapter Three
Illyria
It was raining when the driver pulled up in front of Davenport Tower in downtown Manhattan. I needed a place that was off the radar. A place where I could do what needed to be done with no interruptions. Davenport Tower not only gave me the peace of mind I needed but also the protection I required.
One of the city’s most exclusive apartment buildings, Davenport Tower catered to a select group of individuals. It also helped that Davenport Tower was owned by Caleb Davenport, the Vice President of the Soulless Sinners, also known as Mercy.
I dared anyone to go up against that son of a bitch.
Sitting in the backseat of the rental car, I twirled my hands as an uneasy feeling washed over me. I didn’t want to be here. This city was his playground. His domain. I knew the longer I stayed, the faster he would know I had returned.
I didn’t want to think about that happening.
“You don’t have to do this, Illyria,” Maria, my cousin and one of my closet friends said. “We can tell the driver to take us back to the airport and let Montana deal with the Russian bastard himself. He never needs to know you were here.”
“I know,” I muttered, looking up at the tall building.
“Call Renaldo. Take him up on his offer, then. You will be safer there.”
“His family is in mourning. They just lost their parents. They are in no position to host a guest. Besides, he’s already doing me a favor.”
“You are not a damn guest,” Maria sighed. “And you know it.”
I knew she was right. Renaldo and my brother Giovanni were long-time friends. Both were raised to take over their families from birth. Like my family, Renaldo was the head of the Romano Family. When his father died a few months ago, Renaldo stepped up to fill the role as the head of the Romano family. My brother Giovanni was there for the transfer of power and to deliver our family’s condolences personally.
Few people knew of the Romano Family’s secret alliance with the Soulless Sinners. A motorcycle club composed of highly influential businessmen from New York’s elite society that lived outside the laws of the common man, doing whatever was needed to ensure the safety of their city. While some people believed in the police and local governments to protect them, a small few knew the truth. It was organizations like the Soulless Sinners, the Romano Family, and yes, even the Russian bastard, that kept the city clean.
Well, they tried at least.
“I won’t burden anyone with my personal problem.”
“He’s not a personal problem. He’s a scourge on society. I say tell your brothers everything and let them deal with the bastard. Hell, let me tell the cousins. We’ve never liked theBloodletter, anyway.”
“I don’t want anyone to know, Maria. Just keep your promise. I mean it.”
“Fine,” my cousin sighed. “But you better be damn careful. That fucker sees too much. One slip and he will know, and God help you if he ever finds out. In the meantime, if that bastard shows his face, I’m putting a bullet between his eyes, and you can’t stop me.”
I smirked at that.
My cousin Maria was not a forgiving woman. A little bloodthirsty herself, she never hid her feelings about anything. She was what I affectionately called myride or die bitch. No matter the circumstances, I knew Maria had my back. It also helped that she was an expert marksman and good with a knife in hand-to-hand combat.
“Miss?” the driver muttered, just as the back door opened.
Looking to my right, I grinned as a man held out his hand for me to take. Doing so, I stepped out of the car and came face to face with Mercy. “Hello, gorgeous.”
Kissing his cheek, I smirked. “Hello, Mercy.”
“Let’s get you inside before you drown. It’s been raining all damn day.”
Huddling close to Mercy, I allowed him to escort me into Davenport Tower under the safety of his umbrella. Once inside, he stepped back and shook out the umbrella before closing it. “How was the flight?”
“Uneventful,” I muttered, as Maria walked through the rotating doors. “Thank you for putting me up. Was Montana able to do what he needed to do?”
“Yes. Tessa is back home and recuperating. The club and Fedorov’s men took care of all those who were in the warehouse. Montana fired the old security firm and hired another. The owner is awaiting your call. After you get settled, Montana would like a meeting with you. It’s non-negotiable. He has questions.”
“I figured he would. Tell him I’ve made arrangements for the warehouses to be demolished in the next few days. We can talk after.”
