“I won’t,” I cut in before he can dig into me deeper.
I don’t need him to warn me away when I already have feelings for Alejandro I’m trying to wrap my damn head around. That part shouldn’t even be a thought in my mind after what I’ve been through, but I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit to how he makes me feel.
“I just want to know I’m not helping you to do some fucking shit I’ll never forgive myself for,” I grate out.
Red goes quiet for a moment, giving me a taste of my own medicine, then I hear him take in a quick breath and chuckle.
“I assure you, you won’t be helping with anything of the sort.”
As the words fall from his lips, I know he’s lying, and I feel stupid for asking the question now. Stupid and fucking helpless.
“I don’t think I have to remind you of what’s at stake.” That wicked laugh sounds again. “Your father barely survived the beating I gave him last time.”
I remember with perfect clarity what’s at stake. I don’t need a reminder. As the image of Dad’s beaten body fills every inch of my mind, my heart races and my entire body weakens to the point where I feel faint.
“Please don’t hurt my father,” I mumble, unable to keep the quiver out of my voice.
“That’s going to be dependent on what you tell me. So, fucking now.”
At the threat, impending doom hardens my stomach, making it feel like someone has filled it with rocks. I drag in a breath and try to stop shaking.
“Like I said, I don’t have much. I…” I pause then steady my mind. I have to do this. There’s no other way. “You need retinal ID to get on the property after six. The guards… patrol, and the doors are closed.”
“Fucking shit. Retinal ID?”
“Yes.”
“Did he arrange that for you yet?”
“It’s being done today.”
“Well, it looks like you’ll be more use to us than just pussy.”
Asshole. What a fucking asshole.
“Do you have a key to the house?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“And can you get on and off the property?”
“Yes, but with a guard and when I’m not working. I have weekends off, but the weekdays are full. I can’t get off the property then.”
“Okay, I’ll bear that in mind. What do his guards look like?”
My heart stills. “Italian. They look Italian, but some look Russian.”
“That bastard. He’s using Syndicate guards.”
“What’s the Syndicate?”
“That’s none of your concern. Do you have anything else for me?”
“No… I don’t.”
“You keep your eyes, your ears, and those long sexy legs of yours open, and I’m sure you’ll get something. I’ll call you next week. Obviously, you know the drill if you find something before then. Understand?”
“Yes, I understand.”