Page 92 of Wicked Roses
He turns and walks out the door. His laugh carries as he does, the sound of stuck up, arrogant bastards who think they shit golden bricks. He needs to be humbled.
A throaty growl leaves me as I knock his half full mint julep to the floor. The glass shatters into jagged pieces in every direction.
The next time he shows his face around my club, he’s not leaving alive.
She won’t mar her career and lifelong dream with a black stain like you. You’ll be discarded...
Another angry growl grumbles out of me. I clench my hand into a fist and punch a hole in the wall behind the booth he was sitting in. My knuckles split open and blood oozes out, but I don’t give a fuck. I do it again a couple more times until the hole is crater-sized and my hand is drenched in my own blood.
He’s not coming out on top. Not this time. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he doesn’t.
But the question is, what’s this plan he’s set into motion?
* * *
Delphine isn’t shaken up like I expect her to be. Detective Galecki came seconds away from killing her, but she seems more relieved than anything that he’s gone.
Stitches and some others planted careful evidence to lead authorities into believing he fled the country. Clues like his apartment being in a state of disarray. His passport and suitcase missing. Vague emails he sent his father about being in neck-deep with the Belinis. Bank records of a flight to Costa Rica. Even airline employees we paid off to swear they saw him boarding said flight.
Meanwhile, Galecki’s body was swallowed up by sulfuric acid. He’s not only been outed as a dirty cop, but we’ve made him pay for his involvement sabotaging Delphine. His attempt to kill her.
Delphine thanks me. She wraps her arms around me and kisses my jaw. I hug her in return and debate if I should involve her in what’s about to happen next. The fact that she’s turning the other cheek to the murder of a cop is alarming enough. I didn’t tell her about the visit her father paid me, but Azeria could hold the key to everything that’s been happening to her.
What’s about to go down in the interrogation room of my compound might be a point of no return.
I promised her I’d let her do it. She could torture and kill the guy who hurt her however she wanted. Finally make him pay for what he did to her.
Giorgio’s dead and there’s a chance Azeria didn’t assault her, but both were clearly targeting her in some way—or so it seems.
Regardless, the scenario has morphed into a dark, morbid fantasy of mine, though it conflicts me. The woman I’m infatuated with at my side as we do something so twisted together—we take a life. It’ll solidify us in a way. The strength of our bond and how deeply she trusts me.
We’d share this forever. No matter what her father thinks.
I draw back from our hug with my hands on her hips. “Phi, I’ve got something else to tell you. We found Azeria.”
She gasps. “How? Where was he?”
“Long story. But the short of it is tonight’s the night. He won’t live past dawn. You don’t have to be involved. You don’t even have to see him. I can handle everything. Let you know once he’s gone. I’m going to force a confession out of him before it’s over.”
“You’re going to kill Azeria.”
Suddenly, she looks dazed. Her eyes glaze over and her lips part. I brush curls behind her ear and frame her face in my hands.
Maybe my dark fantasy is just that. A fantasy. It’s not good for her.
“It’s alright, Phi,” I say. “You can stay here in the loft. Relax with the cats. Watch a movie.I’llhandle it.”
She sucks in a sharp breath. I can practically see her heart pounding inside her chest. Even just the mention seems to overwhelm her, like she needs to hold on to something or she’ll collapse.
“It’s not your thing. Let me do the dirty work. It’s what I’m for, alright?”
“No, I want to do it,” she says finally. “I want to confront him. I need this. It’ll be closure.”
“You can leave at any time. You don’t have to do anything. He’s dying regardless of who does it.”
She nods. “I’m ready.”
* * *