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I didn’t answer.
“Go in there and have fun, okay? You deserve it.”
After a pause, she breathed a sigh of relief and closed the passenger door as I slipped into the back seat. Hereyes shimmered under the light from the four-globe lamppost. “Goodnight, Vanessa.” I waved as the car left the curb.
And judging by my recent readings, it looked like Carla was in love already.
Love.I sighed.
I had always thought about what it was like to be in love or to fall in love. I had only ever read about it in books and was curious if it would be like that in real life. I had also heard that the test of how well you really love a person comes with immense difficulties in the relationship and is shown by the ability to triumph no matter what.
For Carla’s sake, I hoped she was ready to face the ups and downs that came with a giddy heart. All I could do was offer second-hand advice.
The other side of the coin is that I am as single as the word itself. But I have not given up hope that one day I would also find love.
A content smile formed on my lips. I felt fulfilled and ready to take on the world after the success of the event. Somehow, a part of me wished Carla would accompany me to my father’s. We would have begun mapping out shelter homes, orphanages, and refugee camps across the globe.
I fingered my phone and glanced at the black screen. Dead battery. I huffed and stared at the empty road ahead.
He didn’t know I was coming but it was Thursday night. He would be home now, going through bulky files and report sheets in his study, with two cups of coffee on the table. One empty and the other full.
Now was the time to hope.
I prayed I caught him in a good mood.
Chapter 3 - Alexei
Squeak, squeak, squeak.
The swivel chair whined and squealed under my weight.
It echoed, slicing through the thick silence in the dimly lit room. I twisted, turned, clenched, and unclenched my fists.
My long legs crossed on the table, the cold tip of the gun rested under my chin, and I stared at the ceiling. In. Out. Hot air escaped my nostrils, and a rushing wave of fiery hot rage suffocated my lungs. It was almost hard to breathe.
I struggled to remain calm.
Behind the door, muffled R&B music boomed from the club. The office smelled of whiskey, pinewood, and whores. But I also imagined the smell of gasoline and crackling flames. I closed my eyes and breathed in. Slowly.Very slowly. I noticed the thick black smoke in my head and ignored his anguished cries for help. But it was no longer just my imagination.
It really happened.
Lorenzo Sanchez. They called him Enzo. Latino dealer. He owed me money, tried to disappear, and ended up in a car crash. Got stuck in the crumpled heap.
There was an explosion. I stood there and watched from a sufficient distance. I just watched. He had to pay his debt in some way or other.
A similar situation might call for a similar fate.
The door opened and Axel came in. He was not alone. The other person in the room was tall, cold, and familiar.
I tapped my muzzle against my cheek and clenched my fists around the grip. “What’s the Fed doing here??”
Axel cleared his throat, and both men were getting comfortable on the sofa. “You said you needed someone to take care of the nuisance at your casino.” A short pause. “Is now not a good time?”
The office belonged to Axel West, but not when I was in that part of town and had to manage some confidential matters with law enforcement. He was smart. Could taste the crackling energy in the air and didn’t want to put his foot wrong. Sensible thing to do.
“Exactly. You got it,” I said, unmoved and ignoring thathewas in the room. “No other person except Knox Beckett, huh?”
Some shuffling on the couch. Then,hereleased a soft, dry laugh. “I heard you needed the best.”
