Along with the Duffy brothers, some of the waitresses and dancers are missing. The girl who caught my attention as well.
If it was Igor’s doing, then it means there’s a war coming, and I need to be prepared.
Igor is merciless and cruel, having shed his own fair amount of blood. There is no crime he hasn’t committed several times over, no ally he has not shown himself willing to stab in the back. He is a snake— a dangerous one. I need to think things through because there’s no walking into Igor’s territory and demanding answers. That’s not how it works in our world.
If I want answers—and weapons—I’ll need to pretend I don’t want to kill the fucker at first sight. The thought alone puts a foul taste in my mouth. I want Igor’s blood dripping from my hands, not to go shake his fucking hand. But my thirst for his blood won’t get shit done. I have to be calm and first get my hands on enough weapons so I’ll be able to remain standing once the war is over.
My thoughts return to the girl with the fiery spirit and defiant eyes. Christ, just thinking of her is enough to stir my cock to life. While I was standing in the VIP room with her, all I wanted to do was strip her naked and devour every inch of her creamy skin. I wanted to hear her moans as I claimed her body. I wanted her screaming my name until I was sure she would never forget it.
I shouldn’t have left her there. I should’ve taken her, even if it was kicking and screaming. Taming her would’ve helped ease the stress bearing down on my shoulders.
A knock on the door of my office has my head snapping up. “Yes.”
“Marcello,” Claudio says as he enters, slipping a cell phone into his pocket. “Igor is willing to meet.”
Leaning back in my chair, I lock my gaze with Claudio’s. “Where?”
Claudio hesitates, and it has me saying, “Don’t waste my fucking time. Where?” He swallows hard. “He requests that you join him.”
I let out a dark chuckle as I slowly shake my head. “Rumors are circulating he’s the one who orchestrated the attack on the club, and he wants me to come to him?” I let out another chuckle. “Call the fucker and tell him he’s lost his fucking mind.”
Claudio sinks into one of the leather armchairs on the other side of my desk. He rubs the bridge of his nose tiredly as he says, “I think we should fulfill his request, Marcello.”
I steeple my fingers and clench my jaw. “Tell me why the hell I’d do something so fucking stupid.”
“We have rumors, nothing more, and there’s no concrete proof he even knew we were at the club.”
I growl, “What if the Duffys were the first of his targets, and we’re next? We’ll be walking into a trap.”
Claudio just stares at me until I say, “I’m willing to meet him on neutral ground. If he doesn’t want to, then I’ll find another arms dealer.”
Claudio nods and rises to go do as I ordered.
I spend the next hour working, and when I take a break, leaning back in my chair again, my thoughts return to the girl from the club.
I wonder where she is and what she’s doing, and if she’s replaying the moment again and again in her head as I’ve done for two days straight. I wonder if she got out before the attack and if she’s even still alive. Her body wasn’t amongst the dead, so there’s hope she got out in time.
I wonder if I will ever see her again.
And I wonder if, when that day comes… how good will it be to finish what I started?
Igor agreed to a meeting on neutral ground, and as I walk into the bathhouse that looks like an exclusive spa, a Russian hostess smiles at me. “Welcome, Mr. Dellucci. Mr. Metdner is expecting you. Here’s your robe, sir.”
She hands me a white cotton bathrobe and gestures for me to follow her. I allow myself one brief glance back at the glass front doors as we move down the hallway. My men are on standby right outside the bathhouse should anything go wrong.
Halfway down the hall, the woman stops and gestures for me to go through a door to the left before heading back to the reception area.
Walking into the locker rooms, I strip off my clothes quickly and pull on the bathrobe, then walk toward the door that leads to where Igor is waiting. With the meeting being held at a bathhouse, neither of us will be armed, which is exactly how I prefer it.
Entering the room, I’m greeted by a cloud of steam. The temperature is balmy. Men occupy the benches lining the walls.