Page 19 of Wretched Choices

I still have my doubts about her. Is it the story she’s chasing or is there something more? And I can’t deal with that now. I do not have time for this. Not when I don’t know who my enemy is and what they want.

The moment I drive away from her place, I want to go back, though I’m not sure why. I’m still thinking about her as I pull into the private floor of the underground garage of the hotel. I don’t notice the car that does not belong here until I get out of my own car. The moment I exit, I can feel the tension in the air and that there is danger close by.

I take a look around. Everything seems as usual other than two men that get out of the black SUV across from where I parked. When they walk in my direction, I stiffen and reach for the gun under my suit jacket, thinking of the best way to take both of them out in seconds.

They both raise their hands, showing they don’t have guns, and walk toward me. “We’re here to talk. We have a message for you.”

“I’m listening.” Not caring for their peace speech, I grip the gun inside my holster.

“Our boss wants your territory.”

I cock a brow and laugh sarcastically. “What territory?” Are they for real?

“Oh, come on, Catalano. You know it. Our boss is willing to let you have your precious hotel,” one of them says, adding, “Rest. He will take from you if you agree or not.”

I look at the men. I’m not sure who I’m dealing with. I have never seen them before. “Who is your boss?” I question, curious to know who my new enemy is.

“That’s not important. What is is the fact he is not the one to mess with.”

I take a step toward them. “You should tell your boss, if he is what you say he is, he should show his face and not be a coward who hides behind his lackeys. If he wants something, he should come and get it himself and show me how mighty he is.” I take my gun out and load it before pointing at them. “Now leave the premises while you’re still breathing, and I’ll reconsider my rule of not killing unarmed men,” I say as I see Dante, followed by two soldiers, walking into the garage.

“You are making a mistake, Catalano,” one of them warns as they run back to their car and drive away, escaping before Dante can reach them.

I don’t say anything; I nod toward Dante and walk inside my hotel. Dante will make sure they leave. But I keep playing the encounter in my head. Who the hell thinks he can take my territory?

“They have been caught on cameras, but it seems like they didn’t care. I asked the security team and no one recognizes them,” Dante says from his seat. After he made sure they were off my property, he went into the security area and took images from the camera. The men were idiots showing their faces on cameras. But I guess it’s a good thing for me.

I throw the dart into the board, hitting the black space just a little outside the small red circle of the bullseye. Throwing darts relaxes me. It’s something I do to think.

“Did Marco have any luck yet?” Before he came to my office, Dante sent recordings of our security cameras to Marco to run their faces through his programs.

“Not yet, but he is working on it.”

I throw another dart. “It’s a little confusing. Why would anyone come here and think I would give them my territory andbe so generous as to leave me the hotel? I would ask for the hotel and clean all the money through it. Or take everything.”

“I think they’re just testing the waters to see how far you’re willing to go.”

“Yes, but whoever they are, they know what significance this hotel has to me, and I will never give it up. They know things about me. That makes me think of family and most definitely the inner circle.”

Just as I want to throw another dart, Dante’s knife flies through the air and hits the center of the board.

“We have a rat,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Yes, we have a traitor. Or traitors.”

It took Marco two more days to find out who the men were, and he asked to meet. Since those men appeared in my garage, I’m sure security there has been compromised. So, here I am in my father’s mansion, that I use only for meetings with a few men, and Marco is one of them. To the outside world, the place looks deserted, with security systems well-hidden and motion sensors that alarm me even if a squirrel passes. Biometric entry access opens heavy mansion doors for only few men with permission to enter.

Everyone thinks I sold the place, and I let people think what they wanted and made it my safehouse.

There is a high-end security system that protects my property and everything inside that is well hidden beneath the unkempt surroundings of the mansion. Overgrown and unruly bushes and untidy plants, broken flowerpots, and some old, broken garden furniture.

The outside gives vibes of a home filled with ghosts. I’m sure there’s a chance a ghost could live there.

I park my Maserati and exit. After using my hand on the biometric plate beside the door, I enter the mansion and close the door behind me. I try not to let memories take me back to the time I lived here. To the lies I was raised with. I rush down the corridor and enter the first door on the right into my father’s office. I used to sneak around there as a small child just to see a glimpse of him, and after to listen to him and do whatever he wanted me to, just to satisfy him.

I don’t have to wait for Marco because he’s already inside, saving me from my memories.

Marco, tall and lean, his dirty blond curls falling over his glasses-covered eyes like always, is already sitting in his chair with his tablet in front of him. His right leg rests on his left leg.

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