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Carlo doesn’t rise to the bait of calling out his parentage. Instead he snaps, “You only got more profits by stealing it out from under the other guys noses. Stealing their product and having Nico or Dante kill them. Giving you a bigger piece of the pie. You think I’m an idiot, but I figured out what you were about the moment the product went missing. You really think that Nico won’t eventually figure it out? Or Dante? They’re fucking smarter than that old fucker that used to run this show.”
Alonso, obviously feeling cocky, scoffs and says, “So what? You really think he’s going to believe you? I’ve proven my loyalty five times over. So what if I skimmed for a while, or made sure to make up any losses by taking it from people too stupid to be careful? That’s how you get ahead in this world. We’re fucking criminals, Carlo, not damn businessmen.”
I don’t give Carlo a chance to respond, my anger burning hotter than before. This fuckwad thinks he can steal from me? He’s about to learn a deadly lesson. I nod at Dante and then stalk inside, slamming the door open. Both men jolt, turning, and reaching for their guns. Smartly, they don’t pull them, but I can see the panic on Alonso’s face, and the resignation on Carlo’s. I focus my attention on Alonso. His face is ashen. They dart desperately around, trying to figure out how to escape, but I just turn to Dante and order, “Take him.”
“No!” Alonso screams, but Dante moves swiftly and hits him in the head with the butt of his gun. Alonso is out instantly, and slumps down in his chair. Dante pulls out his phone to call in some back-up while I turn to Carlo, who watches me warily.
I raise my gun and point it at his head. “Your absence today cost me product,” I tell him coldly.
He stiffens. “I’ll work it off and double production,” he promises me tightly. “I left Gio in charge, but I guess he did shit all.”
“Well now he’s dead, so what do you think?” Dante replies coldly. Which tells me that one of the men I killed was Carlo’s right hand man.
Carlos sighs softly but nods. I eye him for a moment. “Why did you go to Alonso and not to Dante with the information about him stealing product?” I demand.
Carlo has the decency to look sheepish. “I got a little hot-headed,” he answers. “Was so pissed that I figured I would confront him and see if it was true. But I did plan on letting Dante know. I knew my numbers were down, but we’ve been working double the hours so we shouldn’t have been. I checked my people and nothing seemed wrong, until I figured out that some of them were Alonso’s plants, to make sure that he got some of the product to sell for himself.”
I watch him, assessing. Finally, I lower my gun and give him a cold, hard stare. “I want triple the production by the end of week,” I inform him. “And that means triple from both operations, because now you’re going to be running both. Consider it your way of paying off your debts. I’ll have a man watching both operations, and if you are off by even one small ounce, I’ll come back and kill you myself. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Carlo replies solemnly, “I understand.”
I turn and stalk out, taking the car and leave Dante to deal with Alonso. I’ll handle him later. Right now, I need to get back and figure out why the hell my little mouse is curled up in a closet when I specifically told her to sleep in the bed.
And in the mood I’m in, I won’t be leaving until I get all my questions answered.
CHAPTER10
Gia
I carefully open my eyes,looking around the closet as I try to clear the sleep from my mind. I have a crick in my neck, but I don’t dare move until I know that no one is watching me. This is definitely not the most comfortable place, but it’s better than being out in the main room. I was a little slow on the draw—which I blame on being so exhausted—when my captor came in and told me to go to bed, somehow knowing I wasn’t sleeping. While I was laying in the bed, waiting for him to leave, it hit me that he has cameras in here, which means he can see my every move. A disturbing thought, but not an unexpected one.
I always thought my father and/or brothers were doing the same at my apartment, which was why I was so careful to never do anything out of turn. Nothing to upset them. This time, I’m sure, and I wasn’t about to lay in that bed, vulnerable. No way. But now, laying here stiff and sore, I have to wonder if I could have found a better option. And I’m probably fooling myself into thinking he doesn’t have a camera in here somewhere too.
I sit up carefully, slowly, turning my neck each way to loosen it up a bit, before I close my eyes again and allow myself a moment for a pity party. I’m still exhausted, and I’ll blame it on that when I think about it later, but all I want to do is scream and cry at the unfairness of it all.
Why me? Why did I have to be the one to catch his attention? Why couldn’t I have watched where I was going that day, not running into him? I mean, I did it twice, which is worse. I’m just lucky that whichever man of my father’s who watched me that day didn’t report it. Or worse, my brother, who would have taken that as an opportunity to remind me what a whore I am. Despite the fact that I never spent any time with a man alone. Now, look where I am. Being held by a man whose name I don’ t know, and sleeping in a damn closet.
I wish I was more like the women in the books I like to read. Strong. Fearless. Smart. If this was a fictional world, I’d have already found a way out of here, or at least tricked my captor into letting me have some freedom so that I could find a way to escape. But this isn’t a fantasy world. This is real life, and I have a terrible sinking feeling I’m not going home anytime soon.
Well, no, it’s not really a sinking feeling, it’s a fact according to the man who’s holding me here. I really need to think of a name for him in the meantime, because thinking of him as my captor isn’t going to do anything but depress me.
I picture him in my mind, and my first thought is how sad it is that a man so handsome can be so evil. Then again, I know my brothers and father are considered good looking, so I guess I can’t be surprised. I picture his dark hair and eyes, staring down at me when he had me trapped against the wall earlier. If I hadn’t seen the darkness in them, I’d have probably been captivated. I’ve never seen eyes that have flecks of gold in them before. I thought that was only in books. I didn’t notice them when he was here last night to talk to me, but up close and personal, they were hard to miss. They seemed to be more pronounced as he got impatient.
I give myself a mental shake. Why the hell does any of that matter? Who cares about his eyes? None of that matters when the man is holding me hostage. Not to mention, he told me he wouldn’t hurt me as long as I cooperated and he’s already broken that promise by backing me up against the wall and grabbing me.
He was doing that to intimidate you, not scare you, my traitorous mind scolds me. Which is bullshit if you ask me. He still grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head to the wall. And while he didn’t leave bruises, his grip was tight. And I probably should be happy that he didn’t beat me when I tried to knee him in the balls. I blame it on the lack of sleep and how pissed I was that he bested me. But I won’t be making that mistake again. No more emotional displays for me. Because that is not going to help me get out of here.
No, I need to figure out who he is, andthenfigure out how to get out of here. And I’m not going to do that by just sitting here, so I need to get back to work. I bite back a groan as I slowly get to my feet. My ribs and stomach are aching, but I ignore the pain.
I walk back out into the main room, but stop when I hit the doorway, because the bedroom door opens at that exact moment, andhewalks back in, slamming the door shut behind him. I consider slinking back into the closet, but his gaze goes to me immediately and from the angry look on his face, there is no getting away from him
“I thought I told you to sleep,” he says in a low voice, but there’s no missing the anger under the surface. I stare at him, saying nothing. His eyes flash as he stalks towards me. I don’t back away this time, though I’m trembling on the inside. This man is far more intimidating to me than any other I’ve met. He stops when he’s only a few short feet away, but I can still feel the heat radiating off of him. And I don’t know what kind of cologne or aftershave he’s wearing, but it’s filling all my senses, and distracting me. I almost want to tell him to back up. “But here you are,” he continues. “Coming out of a closet, where you’ve been sleeping for the last few hours. Care to explain to me why?”
I hold his stare and keep my silence. Something he clearly doesn’t appreciate, because he lets out a low sound in his throat that has shivers going up and down my spine He grabs me by the upper arms, hauling me into the air and carrying me out of the doorway and toward the bed.
I’m too stunned to react. Seriously, this man is strong if he can do this without even seeming to exert himself. I know I’m on the smaller side, but I’m still well over a hundred pounds of dead weight. Thankfully, though, my shock quickly goes away and I scowl at him, struggling against his hold. “Quit it,” he growls at me harshly, but I ignore him. Maybe if I can get him to drop me, or at least topple him off balance, I can race for the door and get out of here before he can catch me.
Sadly, that doesn’t work as easily as I was hoping. It only makes him tighten his grip on me until we reach the end of the bed, and then he suddenly sends me flying. I let out a gasp of surprise, then a groan of pain when I land on my side, jolting my ribs. “Fuck,” I hiss before I can hold it back. I turn my head to glare at him, but he’s already moving to the edge of the bed beside me and glaring down at me.
