Page 37 of Drowning in the Deep

“You’re welcome. Have a good one, buddy,” Wallace said with a chuckle before hanging up the call. “He thanked me. That’s about it,” he said, relaying the side of the conversation I couldn’t hear.

Satisfied that my plan had been set in motion, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. Shoving it into his open mouth, I said, “This is just a little reminder that no one hears about this, got it? Nobody. If I find out that you betrayed me, I’ll keep that promise I made about your family.”

Wallace let the money fall out of his mouth, a few of the bills dotted with blood from where his lip had reopened. “No one will hear a thing, Petrov. I promise.” He dropped his gaze to the floor, slowly shaking his head. Cowardly bastard.

“Sounds good. Have a good one,detective.” With that, I let myself out, flirting with Cindy on the way out to make sure she let me back in with no trouble the next time I needed her to.

Out in my car, I started the engine and then pulled out my phone, looking around to make sure no one was watching me. I’d been getting a funny feeling lately that I wasn’t alone, though it was probably just paranoia, thanks to my line of work.

Mikel answered on the first ring. “What’s up, bro?”

“Hey, how’s it going over at the deli? You getting ready to go inside and order a pastrami on rye?”

Mikel chuckled softly in my ear. “I think I’ll stay out here undercover where they can’t see me. But from my vantage point, I have to say, it looks like there’s an awful lot of activity inside the deli. Either they just got a big sandwich order or Leo got our message.”

“Good,” I told my brother, who’d been waiting outside of Leo’s establishment for about an hour now while I did my side of the job. “Listen, it’s not just some loose cash hidden under the bologna, either. That crafty old bastard has a vault in the back like a fucking bank. There’s no way in hell any of us could get in while the money is in there. But when he moves it, that’s when it’s vulnerable.”

“And it looks like that’s exactly what’s going down,” Mikel said with another laugh.

“Perfect.” I needed this to go smoothly. It had been a while since I’d been able to pull anything off without complications, so for once in my life, I wanted something to go off without a hitch. “I’m on my way over there now, but you be ready in case Leo starts the show without me, all right?”

“Don’t you worry about it, Daemon. We’re in place and ready to go as soon as necessary. I know the plan, and you can trust me.” Mikel’s voice was reassuring. “Everything is in place. When they move, we move.”

“See you soon.” I hung up the phone and shifted into reverse before pulling out of the parking lot and heading across town to the deli. While I had a good feeling about this, something else was bothering me, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I had no idea what it was, so I tried to brush it off and ignore it, but in the back of my mind, the uneasy feeling that something tragic was about to happen just wouldn’t go away.

As I drove, I went back over the plan in my mind, making sure I hadn’t missed anything, that everything was as it should be, that everyone who needed information knew about it. I concluded this was a solid plan.

So why the fuck did I feel like I did when I was a kid and it was the day before my birthday and everything was about to get fucked all to hell?

CHAPTER25

ELISA

Work was boring the day after I’d gone out to visit the properties with Daemon. I’d spent most of my day working on the properties my father was trying to acquire, though I still had no idea why he wanted those shit holes.

Going out there had creeped me out, and I couldn’t come up with one good reason why my father would want to spend so much money on such dilapidated old properties, but he wasn’t one to tell me what he was doing, so all I could do was follow directions like a good little girl and do what he asked.

“At least, that’s what he thinks I’m doing,” I said to myself as I popped the cork on a bottle of wine and poured myself a glass. I took a long drink and topped my glass off before putting the bottle back into the refrigerator and carrying my glass into the living room. Sarah was gone, out with Jerry for drinks after work, so I had the apartment to myself for a little while. I looked around for the remote, wondering if Daemon would call me later. I hoped that he would come by or ask me to go over to his house.

I had no idea what he was up to at the moment when it came to the family business, but I really wanted to see him. All in all, I was feeling pretty good, like everything in the universe was finally moving in the right direction, right toward Daemon.

A loud knock on the door had my heart racing. Carrying my glass with me, I went to see who it was, praying it was Daemon. The urgency behind the knock definitely reminded me of him. I set my glass down on the table next to the door where we dropped our keys, and I wiped my palms off on my slacks, only remembering it might be a good idea to use that damn peephole after I pulled my door open.

It wasn’t Daemon.

“How does that Petrov cock taste, huh?” My father stood there, glaring down at me like I was a bug and he wanted to squash me.

Irritated that it wasn’t Daemon, I spoke before I could think. “Probably better than that old nasty rat hole of a cunt on Lillian.”

He was fast for an old man, so fast I didn’t even see his hand until his fist collided with my sternum. I went crashing backward onto the floor, all the air knocked from my body. Gasping, I tried to remind myself that the pain was temporary, that he’d simply knocked the wind out of me and I’d be okay in a moment, but the ache ripped through my torso, leaving me on the floor, my face frozen in a grimace.

My father slammed the door behind him, and I realized then that I was in trouble—big, big trouble. Whatever he knew, there was no way I was going to get out of it, and I had no way of getting a hold of Daemon or Drake to come and help me at the moment because my fucking cell phone was buried in my purse.

Towering over me, he shook his head, not a drop of pity in his eyes. “Wanna talk about cunts?” he barked at me. “Let’s talk about how you’re a pitiful cunt of a daughter.”

He picked up my wine glass and gulped it down before tossing it at my head. The glass hit the floor near my face, shattering and sending shards flying. One of them dug into my left cheek before I managed to lift an arm and brush it away. I was just regaining the ability to breathe, my chest still aching but functioning, when my face began to bleed.

I said nothing, only lay there, wondering what it was that had him so angry—and wishing that Daemon would magically appear and finally kill this bastard.

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