Page 42 of The One
He gets up, cursing under his breath, and turns away, his shoulders tense as he strides toward the bar. The soft clink of glass echoes as he signals to the staff, and they quickly pour him a whiskey. He downs it in one go, the burn doing little to ease the frustration radiating off him.
He knows I’m right. It’s not just about the individuals involved; the lives of many more are at stake.
Tough decisions have to be made. Cold, calculated choices are part of the job, no matter how much they suck.
“I’m going to Brazil next week,” Tiero announces as we drive back to Carloso.
I turn to him in surprise, watching him as he looks out the window.
“Brazil? Why? Everything is running smoothly with the Rodriguez brothers. They won’t take kindly to an audit.”
“I’m not meeting with them. I’m going to the Formula One Grand Prix.”
Fuck, he’s losing it. I stare at him.
Ella is into Formula One. She had a grandfather who worked in the industry or something like that. Tiero took her to the Italian Grand Prix a few weeks ago. It’s when she ran away.
“You think Ella is going to be there? That would be crazy! I get she loves the sport, but she wouldn’t come out of hiding for it. It would be too risky for her.”
“It’s a long shot, but…” he trails off, rubbing his hands over his thighs.
“But what?”
“I had a dream. It suggested she was in Brazil.”
“That doesn’t mean she’ll go to the Grand Prix.”
“My gut tells me she’s going to show up there. And I will be ready. If it’s another dead end, so be it, but at least I tried something other than sitting around and waiting for others to come up with the answers I need.”
He lets out a frustrated breath.
I get he’s growing impatient. In his shoes, I would be too.
“We’ve always trusted our instincts. If that’s where it’s taking you, go for it. You have nothing to lose.”
Chapter Fifteen
Mateo
Ihad a shitty night’s sleep, tossing and turning for hours, my mind tangled up with Tiero’s dilemma, traitors, and the endless problems piling up since we acquired our former enemies’ territories.
Sometimes, I wish Tiero had never gone on his warpath. Taking on Molinaroandall our other enemies might prove to be more than we can handle. Tiero’s convinced, though, that when we succeed in bringing everyone together, things will be better for us in the long run.
I understand his logic and his motivation, but life was good before. Things ran smoothly most of the time, and there was space to actually enjoy it. Now it’s just one drama after another.
Tiero left early this morning, flying back to Sicily to deal with our ‘rats’.
I groan inwardly. Another crappy day in paradise awaits.
I refocus on the email I’ve been trying to decipher for the past ten minutes. Taking a long sip of my coffee, I hope the caffeine will finally kick in. But after two cups, I still feel like a zombie. My brain is in a fog, and my body’s dragging with every move.
I didn’t bother soaking in the jacuzzi last night, though I did take a late walk in the garden, hoping to hear more guitar playing. That didn’t happen either, leaving me in a foul mood when I finally went to bed.
A knock on the door pulls my attention from my screen. Romeo strides in, looking just as rough as me.
“What’s up with you?” I ask, but he just huffs, reminding me of the petulant teenager he was when we first met.
He lets himself fall into the chair across from my desk with a grunt, but as soon as he spots the bar cart in the corner, he gets up again and pours himself a Scotch.
