Page 53 of Brutal Heir
And if this gets messy, I don’t want my younger cousin involved. Someone has to keep his hands clean in the Rossi family. Out of all of us, Matteo has the best chance.
“I need you to stay here with Rory.”
He shakes his head before signaling down the hall toward the entrance. “I’m sure Johnny can make sure she’s safe in your apartment for a few hours.”
“You’re not coming and that’s final.” I spin around, the quick movement tugging at the compression bandages acrossmy chest.Dio, I’d been so preoccupied with the asshole who hurt Rory, I hadn’t even thought about my own pain in hours.
By the time I reach the hall, Matteo is beside me. I might be steadier on my feet and walking much better, but I’m still slow as fuck. “Just try and stop me.” His anxious gaze razes over me from the bandage that peeks out beneath my shirt to my lumbering gait.
He doesn’t think I can handle this guy on my own. He thinks I’m too weak, too broken.
Matty shoots me a heavy dose of side-eye before he stops in the middle of the hall, smacking his palm against the good side of my chest. “Don’t even go there, asshole. I know what you’re thinking. I can see it in your eyes, in that stupid pout forming across your lips. I’m not insisting on going with you because I think you can’t deal with this guy. I’m going with you because you’re my cousin, and I’ll always have your back. Especially when it has something to do with the first person whose brought life back into your eyes, not to mention the firstwomanI’ve seen you give a shit about in years.”
A rueful smile threatens to smother the scowl, and I can see it mirrored across my cousin’s face. Maybe I have gotten a little overly sensitive, and not every kind gesture from my family is done out of pity.
“Fine,” I grumble. “But we handle this my way, and we go now.”
“Lead the way, cuz.” Matteo drops into a ridiculous bow.
I stalk past him and move as quickly as my wobbly legs will allow toward the door. When we reach Johnny, I pause to whisper, “We’ll be gone for a few hours. When Rory wakes up tell her I had to go to Gemini Tower, and I’ll be back soon. Under no circumstances let her out of the penthouse.”
“Got it, boss.”
With Rory’s safety secured, I focus on the building storm of fury writhing in my chest. And I can’t wait to find thebastardoto take it out on.
The stench of mildew and stale whiskey clings to the walls of the Velvet Vault’s basement like rot. It’s cold down here. There’s no insulation, no light except for the single bulb swinging from the ceiling like a noose. Matteo stands against the wall, his expression hard for the man known for his wicked grins. But he’s not the one I’m here for today. I stare at the man duct-taped to the metal chair in front of me. Chip Armstrong. Blonde, broad-shouldered, dressed like some washed-up used car salesman. But I know better.
I know exactly what he is.
And now I’m going to get him to admit it.
The zip ties bite into his wrists, turning the skin raw. His ankles are bound to the chair legs, and his mouth is gagged. But that won’t last long. I need to hear him talk. I need to hear him say it. It was just the easiest way for us to drag him out of the shithole apartment he lived in without him screaming.
“Do you know who I am?” I ask, voice calm, low. Controlled.
His gray eyes flick up to mine, unblinking. Defiant. Good. That’ll make what comes next more satisfying.
I circle him like a predator, every step echoing off the stone floor. For the first time in months, I feel something real humming beneath my skin. Power. Control. The raw kind that used to come naturally to me. The kind that was burned out of me in Milano. But not anymore.
“She’s been thriving by the way,” I murmur. “You didn’t break her. Shit, you just made her stronger. She probably hasn’t thought twice about you this year, not until we were so damned unlucky to bump into you yesterday. But trauma’s funny like that. It has a way of burying the worst memories. Then something small—a voice, a smell, a face—can dig it all back up.”
I stop behind him. My fingers brush over the jagged scar on my neck. His kind of depravity leaves marks, too.
“I saw her face, Chip. When she ran into you. She turned to ice. And the shaking…fuck.” My voice cracks. I close my eyes for half a second and clench my fists. “I’ve been through hell. But I’ve never seen anyone look that wrecked. You did that to her, didn’t you?”
He lets out a muffled grunt through the gag.
I rip it off.
“Say it,” I demand. “Tell me what you did to her.”
He coughs. “Like I said before, I don’t know who the fuck you’re talking about.”
Wrong answer.
My fist connects with his jaw so hard the chair rocks back. Blood spits from his mouth, splattering across the concrete. He groans, blinking dazedly, but I don’t give him a second to recover.
I grab his collar and yank his face inches from mine. “Did you drug her? So you could crawl into her bed like the goddamn coward you are. You thought she was just another scared little girl you could silence, didn’t you?”
