Page 84 of Tormented Diamonds
“Oh, God…” She gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. I believe she didn’t know. I’ve yet to meet anyone who can fake the shade of green she’s sporting. “I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t want your apology. I want you to leave the country by the end of the week.”
She blinks at me for a few seconds before realizing I’m dead fucking serious. “Come on, Gianni, I’ve bared my soul here. Have a little mercy. I can’t just?—”
“Thatisme being merciful,” I shout. “Your silence nearly cost me my freedom and then my life. But that’s not what has me fighting to keep my hand off my gun. That’s because of what it cost my wife. She has suffered an avalanche of trauma since I walked into her life. I accept my role in her pain, but you damn well better accept yours.” My volume escalates as I jab my finger at her. “So take the gift and run, Miss Damiano. In any other situation, the punishment for betrayal and collusion would be much more permanent.”
Cathalina swallows hard and nods, her nauseating pallor turning the color of chalk.
I try to compartmentalize all this. I can’t let it consume me. When all this is over, I’ll deal with whatever residual anger and pain haunt me, but until then, I have to lock it away and focus on Becca.
Once my blood is no longer roaring in my ears, I realize she’s still standing there. “That’s your cue to leave, Cathalina.”
“But I came here for a reason.” I glare at her, and she sighs. “Anotherreason.”
“Make it quick.”
“Whoever my father is colluding with is planning something … tonight.”
“Planning what?”
“I don’t know. I only got one side of the conversation, but whatever it was, I have a feeling it involves Becca. Dad’s panicking, Gianni. I’m worried he’s about to do something really stupid.”
My body goes numb.
Shit.
She’s still talking when I grab my phone from the table and rush out the door. I take the stairs two at a time, the images polluting my head knocking the breath out of me. The moment I hit the first landing, I call Becca.
No answer.
Immediately, I hang up and dial Taz.
No answer.
“Goddamn it!” Four more steps and I pause to pull up Becca’s GPS tracker. What I see drowns my humanity and sends me down a spiral of darkness.
Christ, she’s headed east on I-78.
Shoving the final door open, I barrel across the main floor of the club, nothing but motion and purpose. I don’t care about anything going on around me.
My name is called. Hands reach for me. I ignore them all.
“Boss, is everything okay?”
I turn to see Tony, the idiot bouncer who let Cathalina upstairs. I should fire him on the spot, but without her, I may have wasted more time. So instead, I hold out my hand. “Give me your phone.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Boss?”
“I won’t ask again.” Wisely, he digs in his jacket pocket, his meaty hand dropping the device in mine. “RemoveMiss Damiano from my office and ban her from the premises.” I don’t wait for an answer. I take off in a frantic run to my car, all training going out the window. I don’t check for bombs or tripwires. I throw the door open, barely closing it before my foot hits the gas.
I’m tracking Becca on my phone and hitting redial on Tony’s, weaving in and out of traffic as the speedometer creeps higher.
Eighty miles per hour.
Ninety miles per hour.
One hundred and ten miles per hour.
