Page 14 of Ravaged and Ruined
Crates. Dozens of them.
"What the fuck is this?" Grizzly mutters, kneeling down. He pulls a knife from his back pocket and jams it under the edge, popping the crate open with a sharp crack.
Guns. Military-grade. Russian arsenal stamps. Shit you don’t find stateside without strings attached. They gleam with fresh oil, not a speck of dust on them. They haven’t been sitting here long, they’ve been cleaned, primed and ready to move.
"Jesus," Rancor breathes.
"Someone’s been using this place for storage," Grizzly says, his voice grim. "Big fuckin’ storage."
I squat, careful not to touch anything yet, running a hand through my hair. My heart’s pounding hard with the razor-sharp certainty that Ricci’s claws are already in this place. This isn’t a random find. His call isn’t a coincidence.It was a warning.
"Move it out. Stash it. We’ll use them later if we need to."
The other members of the club move fast, tearing strips of tarp and securing the boxes like a damn well-oiled machine.
“Get your ass on the phone.” I bark at Rancor, “Make the offer now. Full ask. No negotiation. Tell them they got ten minutes to say yes before the deal’s off.”
Rancor nods, already pulling out his phone.
I look around, my jaw grinding. "We’re claiming this place now.Fencing. Security. Cameras. I want it locked down tighter than a damn vault."
“Sure, we’ll just head on down to the local hardware store and load up our bikes.” Surge grumbles under his breath with his smart ass tone.
“I don’t care how you get it done. Just do it.” I growl.
I turn back to the center of the warehouse, dust curling around my boots like smoke. This place is ours now. And no one, not Ricci, not anyone, is stealing it out from under us without blood on the floor.
Chapter Six
Lacey
They say every choice has a cost, and as I stare up at Il Ritorno in all its splendor, its mirrored glass gleaming like temptation itself, I can’t help but feel like I’m about to pay mine.
The reflective glass shimmers like a mirage as I approach, my heels clicking sharply against the pristine walkway leading to the main entrance. The casino rises before me. Sleek, towering, and unapologetically opulent. Polished steel curves and mirrored panels catch the afternoon sun, throwing it back in blinding flashes of wealth and power, like the whole place was built to both seduce and intimidate.
Even this early, the entrance is alive with movement. Valets in crisp black uniforms, guests dressed like they just stepped off the runway. A fountain in the shape of a twisting ribbon sprays water in elegant arcs, the cascade catching flecks of light like diamonds.
I swallow hard, taking it all in. It’s hiding the weight of its secrets well. You can’t even tell that only a few months ago this place was leveled with complete destruction. It should have beenimpossible to rebuild. My heart stutters imagining the hell Zoey went through behind those walls. Yet, here it stands.
But underneath all that shimmer, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m about to make a deal with the devil. The kind of deal that’ll draw a line in the sand between me and Aero. A line I won’t be able to uncross. And yet my feet keep moving forward.
I take a breath, forcing back the nerves and smoothing down the front of my dress but it does nothing to settle the knot curling tighter in my gut.
“Lacey.” I turn at the sound of my name.
Garett Ricci is striding toward me, like the damn building rose up behind him just to make his entrance grander. I thought he was handsome last night, too polished for the raw chaos of the clubhouse, with a smile that could sell sin to a preacher. But now? He’s devastating. His navy three-piece suit fits like it was stitched to his DNA. His shoes are so polished I catch my reflection in them. Every inch of him screams money, power, control.
When his eyes lock on mine, it’s like a trap being laid. Warm and inviting, sure, but also dangerous in a way that coils heat low in my stomach. No matter how much I don’t want it to.
“Garett,” I say, stopping in front of him, “thank you for making time for me.”
He smiles but doesn’t shake my hand. Instead, he rests his palms lightly on my arms and leans in, brushing a kiss to each cheek like we’ve known each other for years. “I have all the time in the world for you.”
His voice is smooth, and confident. It’s not the kind of tone that asks for approval. It’s the kind that assumes he already has it.
“Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour,” Garett says, his hand resting lightly against the small of my back. I fall into step beside him, letting him guide me through the gleaming entrance.
People part for him like he owns the whole damn world, and their eyes flick to me with curiosity like they're trying to decide if I’m a queen or a trophy. I subtly shift, putting a little space between us, uneasy with the thought. I won’t lie, there’s something intoxicating about the attention. But damn it, I’m not either of those things to him and I don’t want to be.
