“It was my goddamn idea.”
“I did you a favor. Shouldn’t you be trafficking drugs and increasing the money you pay out to him? Everyone can be replaced, my friend.”
“You forget who I am. Non rompere i miei coglioni.”
“Lorenzo” sighs, exaggeratedly. “I’m not fucking with you. And you shouldn’t be wasting your time fooling around with some whore. What would Novák say to that?”
“He’ll applaud me. That bitch has been spying on us. She’s setting us up. And maybe even Novák.” He hurls his scotch glass into the wall. Everyone stills as Franco looks at his empty hand then marches across the room to get a new drink.
Hayden leans into me. “No matter what happens, what situation you find yourself in, make sure that traitor gets my note. Remember what I told you. Now hood off and chin up. If all goes my way, you’re about to find out how deeply lover boy loves you.” He turns and hollers loudly to Franco, “Like I said, I’m here to make amends. I’ve brought a present for you.”
Franco stalks back over, fresh drink in hand. “Screw with me one more time, Lorenzo and you’ll get a taste of what that bitch just got.”
I gasp as he pulls back my hood.
“Her.” He pushes me on the shoulder and I stumble forward. Like a lamb being offered at a slaughtering. I brace myself for the worst, hoping for the best.
I’m no lamb. I’m sick of the not knowing. The lies and deceit. The betrayal. Drawing back my shoulders, I glare at Franco. Has he just come from brutally beating my sister? Anger races up from within. I’m no lamb, I’m a raging bull. All I see is red. Bolder and brighter in color than the Ferrari we arrived in.
Raging red.
Sometimes in moments like this, the Dalai Lama had better turn a blind eye. First murder, now this.
I ball my fist, draw back my arm, and punch Franco square in the mouth. Breaking open his lip and causing him to drop his drink.
Just like Kylie’s shown me.
For a heartbeat, everyone seems to pause.
Then all hell unfolds around me, though not the kind I expected.
The room fills with laughter.
Franco is cupping his mouth. Did I knock a tooth loose?
And “Lorenzo” . . . Hayden . . . looks as if I’ve just handed him a world boxing championship trophy.
Franco charges, but I’m grabbed from behind, hauled out of Franco’s reach.
“My advice is to leave her alone, undamaged.”
“Fuck you, your advice, and this bitch.” Franco swings and I’m swept away and out of his range.
“Listen, friend. If you want to get the woman you’re interrogating to talk—”
No. Now who is selling who out?
“Hit me, you pussy,” I holler, struggling to break free of Hayden’s hold on me.
“Let me at her,” Franco barks.
“She’s her—”
I kick backward and nail Hayden between the legs with my heel. He drops me and I land in a ball at his feet.
More laughter erupts.
I glare up at Hayden. “Traitor.”