Page 7 of Breaking Rosalind
“The Phoenix is under new management.” I slam her against the wooden door, making her features twist with agony. “Now that my brother is out of prison, everyone who fucks with the Montesano family will end up like this dead motherfucker, or worse.”
Her phone falls to the ground and slides across the stream of water.
“Please,” she rasps, her hands trying to pull my fingers off her throat.
“Please what, Tania?” I say with a grin and tighten my grip around her neck. “Use your words.”
Her face turns a shade of red that clashes with the pink hair and matching brows. Tears run down her cheeks as she chokes, streaming in rivulets of black mascara.
She moves her lips but can’t make any sounds. It isn’t until she falls limp that I realize she’s fainted.
“Shit.” I release her neck, letting her crumple to the floor like a marionette with its strings cut.
The door opens again. Gil lumbers in, filling the bathroom with his massive frame. Light bounces off his shaved head as his gaze bounces from Ricky’s dead and bound body to Tania’s.
Gil once took a bullet for Dad, which elevated him to the family’s golden enforcer. When Dad died and my brother, Roman, got locked up, Gil became his right hand. He’s like another older brother and is loyal as fuck. But at times like this, he’s a nuisance.
Lips tightening, he steps inside and fixes me with a glare. “Is she dead?”
“You think I’d kill a girl in my own nightclub?”
“Cesare,” Gil growls.
“She passed out,” I mutter.
With a grunt, he walks across the bathroom and turns off the hose. “Get changed out of those wet clothes and go join Roman in the VIP section.”
“You’re no longer in charge,” I say. “Roman’s out of prison and?—”
“There’s a dead body, a living witness, and a homicide detective walking around the club looking for an excuse to send Roman back to death row,” he snarls. “Put on something dry, let me clean this up this mess, and go take a walk in front of some fucking cameras.”
My jaw clenches. A man gets one little drug problem, and he’s forever treated like a kid incapable of creating his own alibi.
About an hour later, I sit behind the desk, watching the club from a wall of screens broadcasting various locations around the building.
I wanted to catch up with Roman, considering today is his first taste of freedom, but he’s too busy stalking the daughter of the man who framed him for murder. He stands on the edge of the dance floor, watching a group of women performing synchronized movements.
My cousin, Leroi, sits in the VIP section with a petite woman who’s the opposite of his usual tall brunettes. Like Roman, Leroi is nine years older than me, but has worked as a hitman for two decades.
Leroi is a fucking hero and the reason my big brother is free. Earlier in the week, Leroi massacred every cocksucker connected to Roman’s conviction and found a bunch of computer files that proved his innocence.
And what was my part in this daring mission?
Gil blocked me from leaving the club the entire night, saying Leroi didn’t need my help. When the cops visited the next day asking where I was the night of the mass murder, Gil replayed video footage and lined up over thirty people to give me an alibi.
Roman rises off his seat and hugs Leroi, which is something my big brother didn’t do when I met him moments after he was released. Old memories resurface of how it felt to be excluded by my brothers and their friends for being too little.
When I was young, the nine-year age gap was as wide as Lake Alderney. Now that I’m twenty-four, it’s just as vast. Part of it is because we’re so different. The other part is a secret I want to forget.
Leaning back, I clench my fists. “Fuckers,” I mutter under my breath. “Nothing ever changes.”
I imagined the day of Roman’s release differently, with the family celebrating his freedom at home around the dining table like old times. Instead, I’m on the outskirts in my own club, watching Roman strengthen old bonds.
My gaze wanders to the screen covering the entrance, where a familiar-looking woman strolls in, wearing a little black dress that showcases her long legs and barely covers her pert tits.
Stifling a groan, I kick myself for lusting after Leroi’s clingy ex. She’s the hottest woman who ever stepped into the Phoenix, yet she chose my cousin, not me. Because Leroi is a man in his fucking prime, in control of his fucking life, and isn’t protected by an army of armed babysitters.
I shouldn’t want her, yet she never fails to steal my attention. Besides belonging to someone else, she’s a nightmare.