Page 52 of Brutal Heir
Alessandro
“Thanks for coming, Matty,” I whisper, careful to keep my voice low and not wake Rory as I usher my cousin in. She never came out of her room last night, not even to check my bandages or force me into the tub. A part of me was scared she’d jumped out the window, despite knowing very well that would be impossible from the eightieth floor of my penthouse.
I may have even spent a tiny portion of the night standing with my ear pressed against her door like acoglionelistening to the sounds of her soft breaths as she slept.
But I would never admit that out loud.
“I’m always at your service, Ale.” A devious grin tugs at his lips as he eyes the empty foyer. “Much like a certain naughty nurse you have hidden up here.”
“Stop it with that,” I growl, pressing a finger to my lips. “She’s still sleeping, and I don’t want her to know I’m looking into this guy.”
Matteo nods and follows me into my office on the opposite side of the penthouse. Once the door is closed behind us, he drops into the leather club chair, folding his long legs.
“So, what did you find?” I blurt when he remains irritatingly silent as if he’s enjoying every second of my discomfort.
He finally pulls his phone from the inside of his jacket and flashes me the screen. “Is this the guy?”
I snatch it from his hand and scrutinize the blonde male in the still frame. He’s wearing the same jacket, has that disheveled light hair and most importantly, I can just make out the scar across his eyebrow.
My mind flashes back to the look of sheer panic on Rory’s face when he barreled into her. My gut twists, then anger rushes through every bone in my body. “Yeah, that’s him.”
“I figured.” He takes his phone back and swipes through some documents. “I’ll email you everything I found on the guy, but he’s got a rap sheet longer than my list of exes—armed robbery, grand theft auto, assault, rape…” His words fall away or maybe it’s me who’s stopped listening.
Because I don’t need to hear another word.
I already know.
I can’t even explain it but after only a little over a week with my little leprechaun, I’ve learned to read her exceptionally well. She’s not scared of anything. And that man frightened the hell out of her. More than that, he had her cowering in what felt like shame.
And now I know why.
“I need to find out how he knows Rory.”
“Already done, cuz.” He flashes me a cocky smile, and I’m too furious to give him shit about it.
“And?”
“They both spent time at a halfway house in the Lower East Side about eleven months ago. It’s the only link between them.”
Merda. I’m right. A tiny part of me was holding out to hope that I’d jumped to the wrong conclusion, but I’ve heard about awful things that happen at those places. That fury pounds through my body, my hands itching to punch or tear something apart.
“Do you have his current address?”
His eyes narrow on me, the arrogant smile slipping away. “What are you going to do if I give it to you, Ale?”
“None of your damned business,” I grit out.
His dark brows furrow and he rises, meeting me eye to eye. Though he’s my younger cousin, he nearly reached my height way back in high school, and now I only have about an inch on him. I used to have at least ten pounds of muscle on him too, but I’ve grown weak after the months in that hospital bed. “What exactly do you think he did to Rory?”
“That’s what I’m going to find out.”
“Then I’ll go with you.”
“No, I’m not dragging you into this.” I shake my head, adamantly.
“If you think something will happen that you need to protect me from, then that’s exactly why I should go with you.”
My molars grind together, the anger building by the moment. When I find that guy, I’ll tear him apart. No… first, I need to get him to talk. By any means necessary.
