Page 92 of Tormented Diamonds
Fire wipes the slate clean.
“Phoenix’s don’t end problems with bullets,” I tell him.
Gianni’s eyes darken. “Are you sure?”
I nod. “Fire returns to the earth, that which should’ve never had life,” I say, repeating his words from outside the Chop House. The night he breathed fire intomysoul.
He takes my hand without a response and leads me out of the warehouse. Once we’re a few steps outside, he hands me a lighter. I stare at it, expecting to feel some hesitation.
Instead, all I feel is relief.
Taking it, I flip the top and toss a cautionary glance over my shoulder at the entrance. “Don’t we need an accelerant?”
The corner of Gianni’s mouth curves up in a diabolical smile. The wicked, arrogant kind that four months ago caused me to lose all rational thought. The kind that made me cross all lines and play with fire I knew in my soul would burn me. “Three forklifts with fully loaded tanks will provide all the fireworks we need, beloved.”
I bite my lip and flick the spark wheel. Holding his predatory gaze, I toss the lighter into the warehouse. Within seconds, a crate catches fire. A few more and it spreads, my skin heating as the entire thing becomes engulfedin flames. Flynn’s weak cries do nothing but flood me with satisfaction.
I want to stay and watch it burn to nothing but embers and ash, but Gianni slips his arm around my waist. “We have to go, Doc.”
He’s right. The cops will be here any minute. Too bad, there’ll be no CCTV footage for the FBI to hoard this time. If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that the Marchesi-owned port terminal cameras are more prop than purpose.
They’ll try to pin the fire on Gianni, but without proof, the accusation will fade away like all the others. Besides, once he hears about the bait and switch that led to my abduction, I have a feeling Agents Lattimore and Gibbs will find themselves in the unemployment line.
Gianni finds my hand again and leads me away from the raging fire. However, it feels incomplete, so only a few steps away, I stop and shove my hand into my pocket.
He eyes me curiously. “What are you doing?”
I pull out the queen of hearts, a smile pulling at my lips. “Signing my name.” Glancing over my shoulder, I toss it on the ground, along with my final anchor.
Chapter Twenty-Six
GIANNI
Staten Island, New York
Three days Later
They say what goes around comes around. While I’m not sure I buy into that, I find satisfaction that my father’s downfall is ending at the same place it began—Staten Island.
I’m sitting in the same room of the same shitty apartment building, staring across the table at the same four empty stares. Anton is beside me in his most expensive Italian suit, his knees bouncing like a kid waiting outside a principal’s office. I suppose, in a sense, he is. We both are. This isn’t a social call. It’s a do-or-die wrap up to a four-week trial-by-fire.
No pun intended.
I can’t fault him for being on edge. I’m the one who fast-tracked this meeting. A decision that has tension rolling off everyone like cheap cologne.
Everyone but me, that is.
I’m soaking it all in like a lion tamer with a whip in one hand and a loaded Glock in the other.
Being here prevents me from dwelling on nearly losing Becca. I could’ve waited out Toscano’s full eighty-two-hour deadline, but news of the Elizabeth Marine Terminal fire was already spreading. Plus, waiting would require me to continue letting Toscano command control of this shit show. Not my style, and certainly not a decision that’d earn me any ounce of respect.
I’m accustomed to my hands being on the wheel, not tied up in the fucking trunk.
Okay, bad example.
In the grand scheme of things, the three days since Becca and I walked out of Elizabeth Marine Terminal is an insignificant amount of time. Much like the four weeks since I backed her into a corner and forced a ring on her finger.
Or the four months since I walked into her office…
