One Week Later
“Don O’Sullivan?”
I spin around to face the voice as though I’m preparing to attack. Collin takes a step back, clearly startled by my reaction. He should be used to it by now. I’ve been jumpy ever since Renata was taken.
As of today, that was a whole fucking week ago.
I’m so furious with myself that pacing has become my new form of stress relief. Not that it relieves much of anything. My other outlets have been slightly more satisfying. I’ve had my men target local restaurants and clubs that are widely known to be Greek haunts. And with every dead Greek son of a bitch, I feel one tiny morsel better.
I hope he hears me kicking down his doors. I hope he sees me slaughtering his troops one by one. Because I want my message to come through loud and clear.
I’m coming for you, Yannis.
I’d expected retaliation from the Greeks or the Italians almost immediately. But my efforts have been met so far with silence.
Which brings me back to the pacing. It’s a vicious cycle.
“What is it?” I ask Collin when my adrenaline has receded.
“We’ve got a man at the gates,” Collin tells me. “His name is Elias Baros. He’s been sent by Rokiades. He claims to have an offer for you.”
“Where is he now?”
“Just outside the entrance,” he replies. “We’ve already checked him thoroughly. He’s not armed or carrying explosives.”
“Send him in.”
Collin disappears with a curt nod. When he returns, he’s accompanied by a tall, rangy man with wild brown hair.
He steps into my office confidently, but his eyes scan the space with a hawkish glint in his eye. He looks older than I am, but not by much. There’s a wiry toughness about him that tells me he’s not one to be intimidated easily. Which is probably the reason he was sent in the first place.
“Elias Baros, I presume?”
“O’Sullivan,” he greets with a tilt of the head.
The purposeful omission of my title as don is a provocation, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of demanding respect. I never wanted the title to begin with.
“Don Rokiades has sent me with an offer,” he continues.
“Get to the interesting part, man.”
I’m itching to ask about Renata, but I don’t want to give them any more ammunition than they already have. At the moment, Renata is nothing but an asset to these bastards If they get wind of the fact that she is more to me than just a piece on the chessboard, that gives Rokiades leverage he’s sure to make use of.
I startle myself a little with those thoughts. When had Renata become more to me than just a pawn? I don’t have the time to think of the answers, however. Not with Elias watching me through eagle eyes that are quickly to take in every little detail.
“We have the girl. Renata Lombardi.”
“I’m aware of that,” I drawl.
“She has not been harmed,” he adds. “Yet.”
My fists clench before I can stop myself. There’s no way he doesn’t see that. The corners of his mouth turn up in a knowing smile.
“Don Rokiades is willing to give her up. Set her free.”
My muscles are tight with tension, but I try and maintain the placid expression on my face. “What does he want in exchange?”
There’s a beat of silence. And I already know that the bastard is waiting to drink in my reaction. “You,” he says at last.