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Gabriella
I’ve tried to conceal my nerves from Dominic and Carter. I can tell they don’t want me to go. But this is the only way to save the Grand River, and more than that, this is the only way to make Mitchell pay for what he did.
I pull up at the address that Vittoria texted me. The parking lot is dark, but there’s a pink neon sign of a margarita glass in the window of the restaurant, and next to it is a green neon cactus. Half-priced drinks Mon-Thurs, a sign screams.
It’s a warm night, and my nerves are on edge. A margarita sounds pretty damn good.
No time for drinks. In and out. Ten minutes max.
Carter has the building surrounded, he said. I can’t see any sign of his team, but I have no doubt they’re there. I take a deep breath and get out of my car.
I’m a gambler; I’ve always been a gambler. It’s time to play, and tonight, though I won’t be playing a single hand of poker, it’s time to win big.
“Gabriella!”Vittoria air-kisses my cheeks. “You finally made it out.”
“Sorry I had to cancel brunch this week.” Because your insane husband beat up my partner’s brother-in-law. “Work was busy.”
She waves away my apology. “Want a drink? The margaritas here are amazing.”
“Sure.” Her friend—Ronnie McCheaty, and no, that’s not actually her last name, just what I’ve dubbed it—is here tonight. She’s seated at a poker table with her husband. “Let’s sit at the bar for a second.”
She gives me a curious look. “Okay.”
“Oh.”
That one word is Vittoria’s only response to the dozen-odd large eight-by-eleven photographs I’ve set in front of her. They tell a damning story. Denton Mitchell pulling up at a motel. A few minutes later, Ronnie joins him, driving up in her red Miata. The two of them embrace in the parking lot. He gropes her breast through her shirt. She giggles. He places his hand on her ass and squeezes.
“I’ve been there,” I say gently. “Eighteen months ago, I walked into my apartment on my birthday, and my boyfriend George was fucking a woman on my bed.”
“And did you know her?” Vittoria asks, her voice pained. “Was she your best friend?”
“No,” I confess. George was bad, but what Vittoria is facing is so much more. It’s not just Denton Mitchell’s infidelity that has to sting. It’s her friend’s betrayal. That cut has to hurt just as bad. “I’m so sorry, Vittoria.”
She draws in a deep, shuddering breath. “I thought something was wrong,” she whispers. “I hadn’t realized it would be—” She abruptly gathers the photos and shoves them back in the manila envelope. “Who are you, Gabriella? How did you get these pictures?”
I open my mouth to deliver my carefully rehearsed script. This is the touchy part. It could all fall apart at this stage. “I’m Nicky Z’s PR rep,” I begin. “I’m also dating—”
The door bursts open, and Denton Mitchell rushes in, pushing aside Bulldog, the massive bouncer. “Stop,” he yells, pointing an accusing finger at me. “Vittoria, baby, don’t listen to a word that woman says. She works for Crawford. She’s one of Hughes’ operatives.”
Shit, shit, shit.Everything has suddenly gone wrong. I really hope Carter and Dominic are watching. I could use a rescue.
Vittoria’s eyes narrow. “Is this true?”
I start to reply, but the door flies open once again. I look up, relieved, but it’s not Carter there, and it’s not Dominic.
It’s Ed Wagner, and he’s holding a baseball bat in his hands.
Isn’t he supposed to be in the hospital?
Ed rushes toward Mitchell. “You prick,” he screams. “You set your goons on me. They were going to beat me to death. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”
Mitchell whirls around. “Stop him,” he orders Bulldog. “Shoot him.”
“Don’t do it, Bulldog,” Ed snaps. “If you shoot me, do you think Mitchell is going to shield you? The fucker will throw you under the bus. You know he will.”
Ed marches toward Mitchell. Bulldog marches toward Ed.
The entire room braces for violence.
