19
Dante
Avoiding Nikki isn’t hard, especially when I’m handling business. I need to feel in control, and the fact she’s having my child makes me more uncertain about everything.
Including her.
Nikki getting pregnant shot my plan to hell. I had every intention of shoving her onto a bus, giving her a hundred dollars, and sending her on her way.
That was the plan.
The plan changed.
Staring at that stupid pregnancy test made me realize one thing: I wasn’t going to let her leave.
I spend four days in Chicago rubbing elbows with the Russians. I return home and head straight for the shower.
I feel like the filth who I’ve been hanging around.
Gino is the enemy who I know. The man is not the least bit spontaneous. He will continue to traffick girls until he’s dead, and even then, I’m not sure I can stop him. There are too many heads to bring down, too many men who would gladly sit atop his throne.
The thing of it is, betrayal isn’t a hard bargain to strike. I know that.
Gino certainly knows that.
I’m not an idiot. Sending one of my own men in undercover would get my man killed.
Sending anyone from Breckenridge would be a suicide mission.
Our town is too small.
The Russians and I have an understanding, an agreement that we keep off each other’s turf, and we are willing to help one another on an absolutely necessary basis: life or death.
I’ve asked for their help. I’m still awaiting their answer.
Their empire is built on infiltrating organizations, hacking into companies, holding business secrets for ransom.
I need they expertise with the DeLuca empire to bring them down. Whether it involves holding their assets hostage or turning over their secrets to the Feds to destroy Gino and his men, I’m not above rubbing elbows with the Russians.
Exhaling a heavy breath, I slam the front door behind me and storm up the stairs for a shower. I need to rid myself of the blood and sweat that sticks to my skin.
In a matter of minutes, I’m standing under the spray, and the hot water leaves a trail of red where it’s touched. I should turn the tap down, but I don’t.
I won’t.
A cold gust of air sweeps through the bathroom. On the opposite side of the glass, there’s movement.
“Whatever it is, Moreno, can’t it wait?” I shout, assuming he’s the ass interrupting my five minutes to myself. Who else would be dumb enough to storm into my bathroom?
I need this time to myself to unwind.
The glass door slides open.
“Nikki?” I blink twice and rub the water from my eyes.
How the hell did she get out of her room? I haven’t slept much the last few nights in a hotel, but this doesn’t seem real.
“Your stupid bodyguard Moreno won’t let me leave,” Nikki says. Her cheeks are red, and her pouty bottom lip juts out as she stands there, waiting for what, exactly?