DAEMON
“I’m not here for trouble, I fucking swear to you,” Antonio fucking Santoro says, lifting his hands in surrender.
Refusing to accept his words, I keep my gun trained on his head and wait. Although, I must admit that I’m impressed. The last time I saw him, it ended with one very serious threat about where my next bullet would land if he showed his face around me again.
“It’s Calli,” he confesses. “She’s in trouble.”
“What?” I roar, fear rolling through me and making my hand tremble, something he can’t miss. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know. I just came from my uncle’s. I… uh… overheard something I shouldn’t have.”
“Why the fuck should I believe a word you’re saying?” I growl.
“Because I’m standing here at the end of your gun, willingly giving you intel that will likely get me killed,” he says without so much as a waver in his voice.
My chest heaves as I stare at him, trying to decide if he’s telling the truth or not.
“They’re going to go after her.”
“Ricardo wants our businesses. Why would he suddenly—”
“He wants retaliation for killing our guys. For shooting his nephew,” he states, lifting a brow at me. “An eye for an eye.”
My head starts to spin.
“He thinks she’s going to be an easy target.”
I shake my head.
“No,” I breathe.
“And I hate to say it, but he’s right. Evan doesn’t have enough protection on her. We need to do something.”
“We?” I ask.
“I might be the enemy, but she’s not.” Desperation and fear that I more than recognise darken his eyes.
“Fuck,” I bark, lowering my arm. “Fuck.”
Taking a step back, I tuck my gun into the back of my trousers.
“Come with me,” I say, striding away from him and back to my car.
Pulling the back door open, I nod for him to get in, confident that he’ll be well enough hidden by my dark windows.
“If you’re fucking lying to me, I’ll personally carve you up and deliver you back to your darling uncle in pieces,” I warn, leaning in after him.
“I fucking swear to you, I’m not lying. I want her safe, just as much as you do.”
“She’s going to get you killed.”
He shrugs one shoulder. “She’s worth it, don’t you think?”
“Motherfucker,” I snarl, slamming the door on him before resting my hands on my car and hanging my head.
I suck in a handful of calming breaths before I slide back into the driver’s seat and pull my phone out, opening up the tracking app to see where my girl is.
If some Italian cunt gets their hands on her before—