CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“Grease and dairy don’t go well with fear.”

 

 

Lexi

 

“OPEN YOUR EYES.”

Oh God.

No. I shake my head and squeeze my eyes tighter. I don’t want to see.

My face is wet with tears.

My restrained hands itch to reach up and touch the necklace around my neck.

I can’t. I can’t touch it. I can’t feel him one last time.

Oh my God. How? How could I have missed it? Been so blind? So oblivious?

The searing burn of regret percolates in my chest, my throat tightening, clenching, blocking my airflow.

What damage will seeing my lifeless body with a hole in my head do to him? To Mama?

“Open. Your. Eyes.”

I push hard against my blocked airway and inhale a shuddering breath. Then, slowly, cautiously, I open my eyes.

Stefano’s head is cocked to the side as he observes me with a slight frown. Does he remember me? And at this point, would it matter?

With his free hand, he gets out his cell and from inside his jacket, taps on the screen a few times before lifting it to his ear.

A few seconds later, “Trenton. How art thou, dearest cousin?”

Cousin?

He listens for a beat, then, “Well, since you are so very busy, I won’t take up too much of your time. I just wanted to ask: That ‘girl,’ whose debt you cleared several months ago, is she still yours? Because she is sitting in front of me, and I am two seconds away from putting a bullet in her head.” … “Oh, calm down. I did call you to verify, didn’t I? Aren’t I your most favorite cousin ever?” … “Well, five million dollars has gone missing and I am told that her and another one are behind it.” … “Uh-huh” … “I see.”

He drags his gaze from me to Slim and asks, “What is the other one’s name?”

“Ellie,” Slim answers quickly. “Ellie Harper. But I was misled. Lexi is not—”

Stefano silences him with just one look, then says into the phone, “Ellie Harper.” … “Hmm, I see. So, what you are telling me is that you paid to save her life just so she could come back and steal from me again?”

His gun lowers as he listens, and I exhale a rush of breath. Having a gun trained on me is the single most terrifying experience of my life.

How much more of said life is left? Will I get to see Trent again? Just once?

“Right. Well, here’s the thing, cousin. This is your fuck-up. If you had allowed me to chop her head off like I planned on, we would not be here right now. So, hear this, you are going to find that thieving bitch and bring her to me—free of cost—and in the meantime, I will hold on to your precious Lexi.” … “No, you cannot fucking talk to her, Trenton!” … “I don’t give a shit. Find the cunt and my money and bring her to me or Lorenzo, or I will fuck your Latina raw then stick a knife in her throat.”

He ends the call.

And I feel a sharp stab in my throat as if he’s already stuck a knife in it.

Stefano looks at me and beams. “Thank you, Lexi. It’s not often I get to boss around a Garza. Cocky little fuckers.”

Huh? This man is both lethal and ridiculous at the same time. I wouldn’t trust someone like him with a ten-foot pole.

“Untie her.”

Slim jerks at the command, hurrying over to the sofa.

“Don’t touch her,” growls a deep, gruff, voice.

I glance to the side to see Stefano’s lookalike—who I’m now assuming is ‘Lorenzo’—has turned away from the floor-to-ceiling windows and is striding across the room toward me.

Slim immediately backs away.

Lorenzo pulls me up from the couch, positions himself behind me, and proceeds to undo the binds from my hands with unhurried care. Not in a million years would I have expected such gentleness from someone who emanates menace and animosity.

Even after the binds are off, he lingers, massaging my wrists to soothe where my skin is rubbed raw. And while I appreciate it, I also feel uneasy, considering the threat of fucking me raw then stabbing me in the throat that was just issued.

Lorenzo,” Stefano says in a tone that sounds like a warning.

The two exchange some kind of silent communication, then Lorenzo grunts and walks out.

Stefano waves me to him. “You’re coming with us, Lexi.” He then points at Slim like he’s a dog and tells him, “Don’t set even a foot out of this building until I say you can.”

I take two steps forward, then halt.

I like neither man, but I know the lesser of the two evils is Slim. He wouldn’t hurt me, at least not in the way the Castellos would. It’s not who he is. But at the same time, he can’t save me either. He’s even more terrified of these men than I am.

Come, Lexi,” Stefano sternly beckons.

Knowing I have no choice here, I go to him.

He takes my chin between his fingers and turns my face to the side. “Oh dear,” he mutters, then flicks his gaze over my head to Slim. “You better pray this bruise fades by the time my cousin gets here. I would not want to be you if it doesn’t.”

With that, he takes my hand and leads me to the elevator.

 

~

 

“ARE YOU HUNGRY?”

I drag my dazed attention from the window and direct it to the man sitting next to me. We’re in the back of an Escalade, chauffeured by one of his suited men. Another suit is seated in the passenger seat up front. Identical Escalades drive both ahead of us and behind us, as if they’re escorting the president or something.

Stefano watches me expectantly, and even though my appetite at the moment is nonexistent—who can eat at a time like this?—I have a feeling there’s only one answer to this question, so I reply, “Yes.”

“Good.” He gets out his phone. “What do you want?”

“Um, a cheeseburger…and fries.”

“Nope.” He shakes his head. “Grease and dairy don’t go well with fear.”

“How would you know?” I ask him. “You don’t strike me as someone who fears.”

“No.” He lifts the phone to his ear. “But I have fed a lot of men before I killed them. The grease makes them vomit, the dairy makes them shit themselves. Makes for a messy cleanup.”

Who talks this casually about murder? How on earth are Trent and these people related?

Into the phone, he says, “Seafood from Calla’s. Two fish and vegetables. One shark, one salmon.” As he hangs up and returns the phone to his jacket pocket, he mutters, almost to himself, “For some reason, when people think they are about to die they ask for cheeseburgers. What’s so goddamn special about cheese fucking burgers?”

I don’t even attempt to offer any kind of clarity. He’s a strange individual. “Are you really related to the Garzas?”

“Yes.”

“But…I grew up with them. Lived right across the street from them,” I say, unable to hide the disbelief from my voice. “I’ve never seen or heard of you—Castellos.”

Stefano eyes me with mild curiosity. “That’s because we were not allowed to visit them. They visited us.”

“Why were you not allowed to visit?”

“The Jamaican goddess.”

“You mean Monica?”

At the hum of a dull buzz, he holds up a finger and gets out his phone to take a call.

The phone call lasts for several long minutes, but as soon as he hangs up, I ask, “What did Monica do?”

For a moment he frowns at me with a confused expression, as if he’s forgotten our conversation already.

I’m about to remind him when he snaps his fingers with an “Ah” as though the conversation has just returned to him. And I imagine what the thoughts inside his head must be like.

“Well, she didn’t do anything except exist,” he says. “She was my papa’s woman first, you see. He messed up one too many times, so she left him. Uncle Flavio, who had always wanted her, swept her up and made her his queen. By the time Papa came to his senses it was too late. For Papa, she was the one that got away. He resented Uncle Flavio, so he kept us from visiting the Garzas or attending their family gatherings.

“In our mid-teens, he had a slight change of heart and started allowing our cousins to come visit us, but never Monica. He refused to see Monica and Uncle Flavio together.”

Wow. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to come to terms with the fact that the Garzas are related to what appears to be a freaking mob family.

“Funniest part?” Stefano continues with a humorless chuckle. “Exactly one week after Uncle Flavio’s heart attack, Papa had one right behind him. The regret of forcing a wedge between himself and his brother instead of coming together as a family killed him.”

Damn. That’s sad. “I’m so sorry.”

His hand reaches up to my face as if to brush my hair from my eyes, but when I flinch in reaction, he drops his hand.

“I value family. A lot,” he tells me. “I’d shoot a woman dead before I let her come between me and my blood. But money…” He sighs dramatically. “Sweet Lexi, I do not fuck around when it comes to my money. My cousin seems to care about you, and I care about my cousin. But while I would never start a war with family over a woman, I would do it for five million dollars. So, for all our sakes, I am really, really, really hoping Trenton comes through on this one.”