Page 49 of Crimson Fate

I enter the room the rest of the way and lean against the cool marble of the countertop, watching Gia as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Some things came up that I have to take care of. It can’t be helped.”

A day on the water with Gia. No distractions. No obligations. Just the two of us. It was exactly what I needed to clear my head. Now that I’ve had a few moments alone with the clarity, I know exactly what has to be done. Unfortunately, these matters are best handled without Gia being near.

She stands and steps closer, bridging the gap with a purpose that drives my pulse. For a moment, I think she’s going to ask me to change my mind. “I understand. Thank you for this. It was amazing,” she whispers, her breath a warm caress against my skin.

“There will be so many more opportunities for weekends like this, Gia,” I reply.

Then she kisses me—a brush of soft lips against mine that’s over too soon, leaving a spark in its wake. It’s not the kind of kiss shared in the throes of passion; it’s a promise, a fleeting moment of tenderness.

With a playful wink, she whispers in my ear, “At least I still have a belly full of your cum to take with me,” before she turns on her heel and dashes upstairs. Her voice echoes down as she calls out that she will start packing. Her footfalls are a staccato rhythm fading into the distance, and I’m left momentarily adrift in the silence that follows.

I shake myself from my daze. This is no time for distractions. There’s work to be done, and while Gia packs, I have calls to make and plans to solidify.

Reaching into my pocket, I extract my phone and dial Marco’s number. The line clicks once, twice, and then his gruff voice fills my ear. “This is Marco.”

“Hey, it’s me,” I grunt. “Any word on the crew that hit Smitty?”

“Not yet, but I’ve got some guys looking into it,” Marco replies.

“And Christopher?”

“It’s what we thought—”

He speaks in code, but the message is clear. “You know what you have to do.”

“Yes, sir. Oh, and boss, we really need to figure out how we’re going to handle this shit with Lorenzo.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, knowing I already have a plan worked out in my mind.

“Georgie called me this morning and said he told Lorenzo he wasn’t interested in his offer, but then Georgie got word from one of his shippers that the DeLuca crew called them. They told them they had permission from the top to move some of the you-know-what in on one of the trucks headed to Georgie’s construction site.”

“Fuck that,” I growl, gripping the phone tighter in my hand. “Where does that piece of shit get off lying through his teeth like that?”

The anger bubbles up inside me, threatening to spill over. Lorenzo has always been a thorn in my side, but this? This crosses a line. Lying and endangering Georgie and his crew are enough to push me over the edge.

“Tell Georgie to hold tight. I’ll handle it,” I say through gritted teeth. The words come out with a venomous edge.

There’s a pause on the other end of the line before Marco responds cautiously, “You sure about this, boss? The DeLucas aren’t likely to just lie down.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth, a dangerous glint flickering in my eyes. “Oh, I’m counting on it. It’s about time we showed people there is no question who is running the King family now. They sure as fuck didn’t get the okay to move that garbage into my city on our trucks, so somebody must not understand who is at the top of this family.”

“You need me to come out there?” Marco offers.

“No, you got enough shit on your plate with our convenience store matter,” I reply in case more ears than ours are listening.

“Be careful,” Marco says before we hang up.

I take a deep breath, pausing and allowing the rush of adrenaline to subside. I tuck the phone away, steeling myself for what lies ahead. Talking to Lorenzo won’t get me anywhere because, at the end of the day, he’s not the one in charge. If I plan to put an end to this, I need to go straight to the top.

A second call buzzes. Anthony Casaletto’s name flashes across the screen, and my chest tightens. I press the phone to my ear harder, as if the force could prepare me for what’s to come. It’s as if the man has some sort of psychic sense about what Marco is about to do to his soldier on my urging.

“Anthony.”

“Vincent.” The single word is like a dark cloud rolling in, an omen of the storm to come. “The chat you asked me to have with the other captains didn’t go as well as we had hoped.”

I lean on the marble countertop, the chill from the stone creeping into my bones. I don’t share with him the information I have been given about Georgie, Christopher, and the convenience stores, especially not what I am planning to do after I send his daughter on her way home.

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