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“Right … where are you?”
“Taking care of business. Keep me updated.” I tighten the straps on my backpack, the heavy bulk weighing on my shoulders, before I swing my leg off the bike.
“Will do.”
I slide the phone back in my jacket and stalk toward the entrance of the upscale building in the Upper East Side. The doorman eyes me as I approach, then the bulky backpack, and I only earn the faintest tip of his black hat as he offers me a “Good day, sir.”
“Dante Valentino,” I announce, “I’ve got an appointment at the day spa on the third floor.”
He glances down at an old clipboard and nods. “Yes, here it is, sir. Enjoy your day.”
Oh, I will.
Marching past the old man with one hand clenched around the strap of my backpack, I stab my finger at the elevator button. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, fueling the building rage. Now that Rose’s calming presence is gone, the beast is tearing at its chains, eager to unleash the fury.
When I reach the third floor, I slip out of the elevator, staying just beyond the watchful eye of the security camera on the wall. Then I wait. Five, four, three, two, one…. The blinking red light goes dark. Thank you, Smitty. Having a tech guy is indispensable these days.
Creeping out of the shadows, I slide the backpack off my shoulder and find the small black kit I’ll need to get into Dr. Mark’s office. I carefully insert the slim, metal pick into the keyhole, my heart racing as I feel the tension in the lock's pins. Picking a lock is a delicate dance of touch and precision, one it took years to master.
I gently manipulate the pins, and a faint, almost musical, series of clicks and subtle vibrations echo in the quiet hallway. Beads of sweat form on my brow as I give it one last twist. With a satisfying click, the lock surrenders.Bingo.
I’ve had my guys watching the building for days, and as expected the office has been closed since all of this began. The penthouse too has been vacant according to my intel. I still can’t figure out where the hell this guy has been hiding.
Jerking the door open, I creep into the waiting room of the extravagant office. With a quick glance up at the security camera, I confirm it’s off before I rummage through my backpack and get to work.
Explosives are not my wheelhouse, luckily, I’ve got a guy for that too. Carefully, I maneuver the small device out of my backpack and place it just under the emergency sprinkler. I only want to destroy Dr. Mark’s office, not take down the entire building.
Once I’m finished setting it up as instructed, I stalk out and ready myself to repeat the process in the asshole’s penthouse. That motherfucker will burn for what he’s done to Rose, or at least everything he loves will.
* * *
Now that it’s done, a strange calm settles over me. I stand at the corner watching the conflagration as the fire trucks and ambulances barrel down the street. My explosives guy is a genius. I don’t know how he was able to keep the blast so contained. But exactly as promised, only Dr. Mark’s practice and penthouse went up in flames.
The building is of course being evacuated, but there hasn’t been any collateral damage. I hung back just to make sure. I may be a little unhinged right now, but after what this city has survived, no one deserves another skyscraper coming down.
I jump on the back of my bike, strap on my helmet, and head downtown. All this destruction has fueled the monster within, but instead of quelling the rage, it’s only spurring it on. That and I still haven’t found the psycho stalker and until I do, someone else will have to suffer the burden of my rage.
* * *
The scent of sweet and sour sauce and fried wontons floats in the air as I stalk toward the front door of the Red Dragon. The two crimson winged beasts stare down at me as if they know what I’ve done as I take the steps two at a time. Heated blood and violence pounds through my veins. The adrenaline from setting fire to an entire block of Red Dragon warehouses in the Lower East Side has my heart racing. Now, I understand the thrill arsonists get. I can see how it becomes addictive. The power, the destruction, the feeling of godliness as you stand over a pile of rubble.
My phone rings, halting my strides, a foot from the door. I glance at the unfamiliar number for a long minute before answering.
“Who is it?” I bark.
“It’s your brother, you fuckingcoglione. I just heard about all our shit for the commissioner’s project being stolen and now theaccidentat the Red Dragon’s warehouses. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Merda. Who the hell spilled? “I’ve got everything under control, Luca,” I hiss.
“The fuck you do. It sounds like it’s a dumpster fire over there, Dante.Sei impazzito?”
Have I gone crazy? Probably. That’s exactly why love has no business in the lives of men like us. “No,” I finally growl. “I’m taking care of it.”
“Do you have any idea what’s going to happen when Jianjun retaliates?”
“He’s not going to. I’m at the Red Dragon now.”
“What exactly do you plan on doing?”
