17

[ARTEMY]
Brayden walked alongside me as we made our way towards my office, the sound of our footsteps echoing in the corridor. His voice broke the silence, filled with a hint of urgency.
“Are we still on for the clubs’ check-up tonight?” he inquired, glancing at me with a mixture of concern and determination.
Responding with a grunt, I offered a nod, acknowledging our agreement without saying a word. We reached my office, where Milandro, Leon, and Avim awaited our arrival. As soon as they caught sight of us, they rose from their seats, a sign of respect. Meeting their gaze, I motioned for them to sit before taking my own place.
Gathering everyone’s attention, I announced the news we had received. “Raffaele has sent us another warning,” I declared, the weight of the situation evident in my voice. “He’s set his sights on another club, and he won’t hesitate to kill anyone who stands in his way. He wants the whorehouse under his control. I want a minimum of twelve men there, guarding the place.”
The room fell into silence, their eyes fixed on me as I spoke, my words dripping with authority. Avim nodded, his expression determined. “I’ll handle it,” he volunteered, showing his readiness to take charge.
With a touch of anger lacing his voice, Leon chimed in, his frustration evident. “Those damn Italians won’t back down. It feels like we’ve remained silent for far too long,” he growled, his eyes flashing with a fiery intensity.
Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my right ankle over my left knee, fixing Leon with an unwavering gaze. I spoke with a calm, measured tone, laced with a hint of menace. “The Italians can try as much as they want, but they won’t bring my empire down,” I asserted, releasing a sharp, humorless laugh. “They’ve been attempting it for years, yet they’ve failed miserably.”
Leon sighed heavily, his hands rising to massage his temples, a gesture of surrender in the face of our ongoing conflict. Meanwhile, I shook my head, a wry smile curling my lips. He was an amusing character, that Leon. A moment of silence enveloped us all as the weight of our shared burdens settled in the room.
Shifting my attention to Milandro, I inquired about the state of the prostitution rings, an issue that had been on my mind. Raffaele had been overseeing those establishments, but they operated with a ruthless approach, different from my own. “I won’t tolerate the abuse of women in those brothels,” I stated firmly, a flicker of determination in my eyes. “They have chosen that profession, but I refuse to stand idly by while they suffer.”
Milandro’s response held a note of helplessness. “We have no control over that. We don’t even own those brothels.”
“Do I appear to care whether we own them or not?” I retorted sharply, my tone laced with a fiery intensity. “I don’t care how you do it, but it needs to be stopped. Is that clear?”
Immediately realizing the gravity of the situation, Milandro backed down, his voice submissive. “Okay. I’ll take care of it,” he acquiesced, recognizing the weight of my command.
Turning my attention to the group as a whole, I asked if there was anything else that needed addressing. Brayden, ever the man of few words, assured me of his unwavering support. “We’re good, Artemy,” he assured me, his voice low but filled with conviction. “We need to get things moving. Don’t worry, I’ll keep a watchful eye on everyone and make sure things don’t spiral out of control. I’ve got your back.”
Brayden’s words may have been few, but they carried immense weight. When he vowed to have my back, I knew without a doubt that he was a man I could trust with my life.
If there was anyone who could match my ruthlessness, it was Brayden. The five of us, my loyal men, were a force to be reckoned with, prepared to take on the world.
With a dismissive push of my chair, I rose to my feet, straightening my suit as I made my way towards the exit. However, just as I approached the doors, Milandro’s voice halted me in my tracks.
“Boss, there’s something I can’t wrap my head around. Why did you release Rebecca? We have no proof that she isn’t the spy,” he questioned, a sense of doubt creeping into his words.
“Shut up, Milandro,” Avim warned, but his warning came too late. I swiftly pivoted on my heel and lunged towards Milandro, gripping his throat tightly as I forcefully pressed him against the wall.
“How dare you question my decision?” I bellowed, my grip on his windpipe growing tighter, causing his face to turn a shade of purple. His eyes rolled back, but I refused to release him. It was Brayden who intervened and pulled me away before I could end Milandro’s life.
However, killing him wasn’t my intention, at least not yet. For now, I wanted to send him a warning, to make him realize the consequences.
Leon stepped in to help Milandro regain his footing, but he struggled to catch his breath, his gasps filling the room with desperation.
“S… S… Sorry,” Milandro managed to choke out, clutching his throat.
“Rebecca is no longer a suspect,” I declared, my fists clenched tightly. In truth, she still was a suspect, but that was information they didn’t need to be privy to.
Torturing her wouldn’t yield the truth we sought. There were other methods, and I would explore them on my own.
Giving my men one final menacing glare, I stormed out of my office, forcefully closing the door behind me, the sound echoing through the corridor.
I attempted to steady my breathing, Milandro’s question having ignited a fire within me. Yet, his inquiry wasn’t the sole source of my anger.
Rebecca. I tried not to dwell on her, but the mention of her name triggered something deep within me. Damn it. She had the power to unravel me, a woman causing me to lose control.
What was it about her?
When I released her the previous night, her image consumed my thoughts. Her glossy black hair, her tear-filled green eyes as she vehemently proclaimed her innocence. Oh, how desperately I wanted to believe her.
She had an inexplicable hold over me, and I despised it.
My mind drifted back to that moment in her bedroom. The surprise etched across her face at witnessing my transformation. Truth be told, I was equally taken aback.
Her vulnerability tugged at my heartstrings, evoking an unfamiliar desire to shield and safeguard her. Every time I saw her in pain, it felt as if my chest tightened in response.
Lost in my ruminations, I absentmindedly passed the kitchen, until Nona’s voice brought me back to the present, causing me to halt in my tracks.
“I hope he makes them all pay. They deserve to die, every last one of them,” she uttered, her words dripping with righteous anger.
Confusion furrowed my eyebrows as I took a step closer, positioning myself just outside the entrance to the kitchen. Rebecca was seated beside Nona at the bar, and something seemed amiss.
Just as I was about to move forward, Rebecca abruptly leaped off the stool, her tiny body trembling violently, and her tear-stained face red and swollen. She spun around, attempting to flee from the kitchen, only to collide with my chest and rebound backward. Her steps faltered, causing her to stumble, and I instinctively reached out to catch her.
Gasping for air, she heaved in my arms, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Tremors ran through Rebecca’s body as she lifted her head, her eyes meeting mine. I noticed her surprise, a hitch in her breath, and then she became completely still, seemingly holding her breath.
Locked in her terrified gaze, I tightened my grip on her arms, and she gasped, shrinking back in fear.
“I…” Rebecca sucked in a deep breath but was interrupted by coughing. Frantically, her hands flew to her neck, rubbing vigorously. “I… I can’t… breathe…” It was clear she was experiencing a panic attack. I released my hold, allowing her to break free. She stumbled backward and hurriedly rushed past me.
Glancing back into the kitchen, I caught Nona and Lynda exchanging concerned looks. Without waiting for an explanation, I turned around and chased after the frightened girl. I observed her sprinting toward the back door, leading to the garden. Once outside, she slowed to a walk, and I followed suit.
Squinting against the brightness of the sunlight, I located Rebecca perched atop the hill, seeking shelter beneath a tree. Giving her a few moments of solitude, I gradually approached. Hugging her knees tightly to her chest, she buried her face within them.
As I neared her, I sensed her tension. Letting out a sigh and rolling my eyes, I settled on the grass beside her quivering form. She was gradually calming down from her panic attack.
I couldn’t explain why I had followed her, or why I had chosen to sit by her side. It was as if some inexplicable force within me yearned to alleviate her pain. Weary, I rubbed my face, feeling the weight of the situation. She had managed to unsettle me.
I heard her quiet sobs, eventually fading away. “Why did you follow me?” she asked, her voice hoarse and strained.
“You were crying,” I responded, my voice unintentionally harsh. Clearing my throat, I tried to soften my tone. “Why were you crying?” I attempted to sound gentle, but it came off as demanding instead.
Smooth move, Artemy. You really know how to encourage her to open up, I scolded myself internally.
“That wasn’t an answer,” she replied, her voice barely audible. It seemed she didn’t intend for me to hear, but I did.
Her tone prickled me slightly, but I took a deep breath, trying not to sound harsh. This was not the time to frighten her.
“Well, that’s the only answer you’ll get,” I said, turning to face her. I had no other response for her.
Rebecca lifted her head slightly, resting her chin on her arms, and looked straight into my eyes. “Nona told me about your mother.”
I was taken aback, utterly shocked. Rebecca noticed and nervously bit her lip.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, tears welling up in her eyes once again.
Swallowing hard, fighting back the lump in my throat, I shrugged. “Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault.”
“I know. But I’m sorry for your loss.” A tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
I followed that solitary droplet as it traced a path down her rosy cheek. Her admission caused my heart to stumble. She was sorry for me. She was shedding tears for my loss.
I stared at her, a mixture of confusion and wonder flooding my senses. Who was this girl? And what was she doing to me?
“Okay,” I replied, my voice gruff. I couldn’t find any other words because I simply didn’t know what to say.
Rebecca’s kindness took me by surprise. I never anticipated it. She always seemed afraid of me, but now she was offering her condolences for my mother’s passing.
She closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders. I noticed her trembling, and she curled up tighter, seeking solace within herself.
Without thinking, I shrugged off my suit jacket and leaned forward, delicately draping it around her. Instantly, she grew still.
“It’s a bit chilly today,” I said, then distanced myself from her.
Why the hell was I explaining myself to her?
My body stiffened, and I stood up, brushing off the grass from my clothes. I avoided looking at her, annoyed with myself and how I had reacted to her.
Focus, Artemy. Focus on your task. Don’t lose yourself in her captivating eyes and tender soul.
My hands clenched into fists, and without sparing her another glance, I turned around and walked back to the house.