AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Viktor claps his hands together, making me jump. “But that will have to wait for another day.” He gives my body one last lingering look before leaving the room. And just as before, he locks the door behind him.
I curl onto the bed, wrapping myself up in the blanket. Viktor is dangerous, so I can’t be having any …feelingsfor him of any sort other than fear and hate. I clench my eyes shut, refusing to cry. I won’t give Viktor the satisfaction.
I just miss my family. I never thought that would be possible but here I am, desperately missing them. Now, I’m hurt and slightly turned on, and everything feels overwhelming.
If I could go back in time and appreciate all the hugs my mom gave me, I would. I wouldn’t push her away or argue with her like I did a hundred million times. In my mom’s eyes, I was never quite as good as Emilia. I resented them both slightly for that. But both of them still love me.
Now, the last memories I have of each of them is an argument, with me speaking hateful, spiteful words.
And there’s nothing I can do to change that.
CHAPTER4
Viktor
The bar is rundown, cramped, and covered with mold spots. Not the safest place to be, but who doesn’t love a little danger? The door creaks as I open it. I step inside the room, my feet crunching on broken glass left over from many bar fights—beer bottles to the head and all that. I bought this shithole years ago and never bothered to redecorate. If I can’t scare people with a run-down bar, then what can I do?
I settle into the back booth and wait.
He shows up right on the dot. Marco Aldi. Storming into the bar like a god intent on destruction. His face is still bruised from the beating I gave him yesterday. He spots me immediately and stalks over. “Where is she?”
I sit back in my seat. “Where is who?”
Marco slams his fist onto the table, making it shake. “Gemma. Where is she?”
“Oh, she’s fine.” I point toward the seat opposite me. “Have a seat, Marco. Let’s discuss.”
He sneers but sits anyway. “I’ve told you before, Viktor. I don’t want to make a deal with you.”
I reached out to Marco yesterday after kidnapping Gemma and told him to meet me at the bar to talk business. It seems he’s determined to disappoint me. “I know. You’ve told me that a million times. But I don’t understand why not.” I pause. “I love your new look by the way. The bruise on your cheek really compliments your scar.”
“Stop wasting my time. You have my sister-in-law. Give her back, and I won’t kill you.”
I bark a laugh, crossing my arms. “If you kill me right now, you’ll never know where she is. So, you need me alive. That’s why you came alone. We both know no one’s dying today. You need me alive to find Gemma, and I need you alive because I want to make a deal with you. I just want a simple arrangement; that’s all. I help you; you help me. Why is that so hard?”
He curls his hand into a fist. “Because you’re a psychopath. If I make a deal with you, how do I know you won’t just go off the rails?”
“Uh, you don’t.” I scratch behind my ear. “But wouldn’t you rather me be an ally than an enemy?”
“I’m not even that powerful in New York. Most of my power is in LA. How could I help you here?”
“Because you made a deal with the Moretti family when you married Emilia. That gave you exponentially more power in both LA and New York. So, I think you’re being modest, Marco. Think about how much we could achieve if we just combined our forces. No more fighting over drug and gun shipments or trade routes. No more attacking each other’s territory. We could coexist in peace.”
Marco stares me down, not saying anything. I’ll give him that—he’s an intimidating motherfucker. While he’s more muscular, I’m leaner. If Marco wanted to snap me in half, he probably could. The one advantage I have is that I’m not afraid to risk anything or do anything. Marco has people he cares about. I don’t.
My mind flashes to my parents’ faces looking at me from the front seat of a car. I push the memory away before it can take root.
“If you want to combine power, then Franco Moretti should be here,” Marco tells me. “He practically owns New York.”
“Oh, I know. That’s why I invited him, too.” I check my watch. “He should be showing up in … oh … about another minute.”
As if one cue, Franco walks through the door.
“Franco, dear, come join us!” I say, opening my arms in welcome and grinning.
He scowls as he approaches the booth, looking between Marco and me. “What’s this? You making a deal with this fucker?” he asks Marco, pointing at me.
“I want to get Gemma back,” Marco explains. “I assumed you’d want the same.”
