“I’ll call you if anything else happens to make itself known in my club,” he says. “The staff is aware to keep their ears open and eyes down when in private rooms. Haven’t had any trafficking incidents in Limbo since Malia and Donovan went batshit on the Wall twins and suit.”
I snort a laugh. He might think what happened there was batshit, but he did not see what happened here following that.
“Martinez has a powerful player pulling his strings I imagine,” Tanner adds. “He might not be the king like we’ve all thought over the years.”
I hum, and our conversation ends. I throw my phone on my desk and scrub a hand down my face.
Tanner owning Limbo and having access to all sides of the money and power that work in the underground is my best source of information. Kingpins from every dark corner of this world meet there to conduct their businesses while gambling on the fights. Malia and Donovan stirring the pot with Martinez’s lackeys a few months ago makes this a little more difficult. He has always been spooked easily, and that has never turned out well for me.
If Martinez has not been the king of the sex ring all this time, if someone else is running the operation from behind the scenes, letting Rico be the face, this changes things. It makes sense that he would be able to hide from me so easily when no one else has been able to.
But, assuming that’s true, the question remains—who the hell is it?
Surely Tawny does not have the brains to run such an operation, even if she does have a hand in it. Men in my world thrive on showing their wealth and power, so it has to be someone who wants to remain unseen. A politician, perhaps? Some elite who uses his power to gain the support of the masses, feeding their depravity in the dark of the underground. It is not unlikely; it is common for the social elite to gain a lot by dabbling in a sinner’s game. Hell, some of them are worse than the most ruthless men I have ever had the pleasure to know.
Then again, that answer seems a little too obvious. A career criminal running a large, successful operation, stealing innocents off the streets and using a different face to take the fall should it come to that. Masterminding and maneuvering his business from the shadows, with no one the wiser.
“Nate.”
Chantelle’s voice filters through the webs spinning in my mind and pulls me from the new possibilities and avenues to explore that come with these theories.
She is standing in front of me, between my legs with concern etched between her brows. I had not even noticed she had gotten this close to me, let alone come into my office at all. Pieces are beginning to fall into place, making sense and righting the wrong of every misdirection we have made. A possible trail, if we start looking deeper into this.
Chantelle reaches out to place her hand on my cheek, and I tilt my head to kiss her palm. My office door slams open as someone storms through, and a squeak leaves my Little Bird’s mouth as she runs forward.
“Ho, ho, ho, motherfuckers,” Mario sing-songs and I snort, as Chantelle’s jaw drops when he places a woman on the ground in front of him. “Santa’s found a very naughty little blue elf.”
“What the fuck!” Chantelle yells, barreling toward a proud Mario Castello and a very pissed-off, bound,andgagged Letty.
“Why is she tied up?” I ask Mario, and he beams at me.
“She tried to hit me with a bat,” he says with a shrug.
“And the gag?” Chantelle growls, ripping the tape from her friend’s mouth, whereupon Letty spits out what looks like a pair of panties.
Mario crosses his arms against his chest, looking more than pleased with himself. Fucking Castellos.
“I told you to find her, not fuck her, Mario,” I grumble, pulling a knife from my pocket to help my Little Bird unbind her friend.
“I didn’t fuck her,” he says with pursed lips, looking like he might actually be disappointed by that outcome. “Where I do enjoy the casual biting, I tend to like it better while buried deep inside a woman’s pussy first.”
“Jesus Christ,” Chantelle grunts, helping Letty to her feet.
Letty whips around once she finds her feet, kicking her leg up to knee Mario in the balls. He catches it, pulling her forward then wrapping it around his waist while holding her in place by her throat with his other hand.
“Asshole,” Letty growls through clenched teeth, earning her a wicked smile from the dickhead himself.
He looks at her with interest and I can feel the tension from where I am standing. There is not a man in this house that is not fucked off his head with a woman these days.
Mario leans into Letty. Chantelle steps forward to pull her friend away, but I grab her arm. Might as well let this moment play out so the girls can carry on. Interrupting a Castello when his prey is in his trap is likely to cause carnage, something I do not want either of these women to be involved in. Mario may play coy, but he is as deadly as the rest of them.
“If you’re looking to get fucked,pequeña azul, all you have to do is beg,“ Mario purrs.
Letty spits in his face and he pushes her off with a chuckle, wiping the saliva from his face with his tattooed forearm. I am only now noticing the disheveled state of Mario’s man bun, telling me the small blue-haired woman gave him trouble when he found her.
My lip twitches as I consider that, if Letty can stand up to Mario Castello and my Little Bird has run with her for years, they might both be okay in this demented world of ours. I have no doubt they will cause trouble within these walls but, so long as Chantelle stays, I will happily take any chaos this duo brings. Nothing they create could compare to Malia and what I have grown used to, though I imagine some are going to disagree.
“Reel it in, Mario,” I say. “Little Bird, why don’t you take Letty to our bedroom and catch up.”