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Tipping Point Page 11
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I wiped tears from my eyes with frustration and wiped my hands on my black pants.
“Get it together,” I growled at myself. Now was not the time to weep over memories of a brother I never even knew.
Where the fuck did things go so wrong?
After getting off the plane, I met one of D’s contacts, who had been waiting for me on the tarmac with a black motorcycle. He handed me the keys and nodded politely.
“Ms. Castaletta. The bike is yours for as long as you require it. Is there anything else I can do to assist you?”
“No,” I said as I picked up the black helmet that sat on the seat. “This is just fine. Thank you.”
“Very well. We will be here awaiting your return. Drive safely.”
I smiled at him and pulled the helmet on.
“Safely?” I chuckled and swung my leg over the seat. I turned they key in the ignition and revved the engine. She purred loudly and vibrated between my thighs. “There’s no fun in that,” I called over the roar. Then I sped off, tires screeching, leaving a trail of black rubber on the asphalt in my wake.
The drive to the Cooper estate would take a normal person about forty-five minutes from the airport. I arrived in twenty-five, feeling like a bad ass. I parked a few blocks down the street and got off the bike. I opened the rear saddlebag to find a gun sitting in the compartment. D had arranged things nicely, as always. I would have to thank him when I got back home. He would expect the thank you in something other than words.
It had been a long time since I’d taken him in my mouth. A growl swept through me. Now wasn’t the time to think about him or his massive cock.
“Funny how the worst situations turn me on. I need medical help.”
I tucked the gun in the front of my tight, long-sleeved black shirt and made my way down the street. The Cooper estate came into view, and I ducked off the sidewalk to sneak through the hedges lining the property.
The sun had just begun sinking below the horizon, basking the estate in dim purple light, as I cut across the lawn to come up against the back of the guest house.
The property was gorgeous. It was modern and minimalistic. I appreciated that. It offered a stark contrast to my home back in Chicago, but it suited Adam. Everything was immaculately tidy; he must have his lawn mowed every fucking morning.
We could have been friends, Mr. Cooper. Too bad you’re sleeping with the enemy.
I poked my head out around the side of the guest house to peer across the yard. About half a football field away sat the main house. The lights were on, and guards were walking the perimeter outside. I counted four of them before I heard the rustling of grass on the opposite side of the guest house.
Impulsively, I smiled.
I was itching for a fight, and Adam Cooper’s guards would do just fine.
I flexed my fingers as I slipped back behind the guest house and crept along the back wall. At the opposite corner, I pressed myself against it and held my breath, straining my ears to listen as footsteps approached.
A guard emerged around the corner. He spotted me a second too late. His eyes widened, and he reached for the gun in his belt. I grabbed hold of him and yanked him into the shadows with me before driving my elbow into the side of his head. It knocked him out cold, and he slumped against the wall and slid down it to settle in the grass.
One down.
I peeked out around the corner again. The coast was clear.
I hurried forward, knowing my window to get to the house was probably short. A minute, at best. I ran full out, legs pumping, heart racing, and leapt over a row of hedges when I got close to the house. I slipped into a corner between two windows and froze, waiting to see if I could hear anyone.
I was getting lucky. All I needed now was to find a way in.
I started creeping along the perimeter. The house was so quiet, I started to wonder if anyone was even home. I dismissed that thought quickly. If Adam wasn’t home, there wouldn’t be so many guards on duty.
Another guard appeared around the far corner of the house. I slipped between the house and a lattice filled with wisteria plant. It provided perfect cover as the guard continued moving toward me.
When he was close enough, I dropped low and kicked my leg out. I caught him hard in the side of the knee and moved in on him before he had a chance to cry out. I sprang up and wrapped my arms around his neck, then twisted sharply. There was a loud pop, and he went limp. I caught him and lowered him gently to the ground. I couldn’t afford to make a sound, not with so many armed guards still out and about.
The audible click of someone cocking a gun made me freeze mid crouch. The dead guard lay at my feet, and my gun was still in my shirt. I couldn’t reach for it. Not yet. So I lifted my hands slowly above my head.
“Welcome to the Cooper mansion, sister,” a familiar male voice said.
“Marco,” I hissed, my own voice sounding foreign and furious in my ears. I started to turn around.
Then something slammed into the back of my head. Bright light erupted in my vision as my knees gave out and I pitched forward. I landed hard on my stomach, and my cheek struck the concrete beneath me hard. The white behind my eyelids faded, and my vision came back, but it was blurry.
Someone was crouched in front of me. A man. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “God, you’re so beautiful. It’s a tragedy we couldn’t have been together under different circumstances. I’ve wanted a dark-haired princess in my bed. You would have put anything I could have dreamt up to shame, Izabella Castaletta.”
Adam Cooper. Of course. I tried to speak, but my tongue was thick, and my brain was jumbled. He’d hit me fucking hard. I had to fight it. I couldn’t afford to pass out and be at his and Marco’s mercy.
“Join me, Izabella,” Adam said. “We could be so good together. Join me and forget all this shit. Start fresh. Let me help you.”
I found my voice as consciousness began slipping away. “Fuck you,” I mumbled.
Adam clicked his tongue and shook his head. Then he rested his hand on my cheek, and I was powerless. I couldn’t do a damn thing. The edges of my vision turned black, and soon, all I could see was Adam’s face at the end of a long, dark tunnel.
“Denying me is a mistake,” Adam said.
I couldn’t fight it. My eyes slipped closed, and I was swallowed up by darkness and silence. Before I was lost completely to the nothingness, I could think of only one thing.
How much I wanted to tell Demetri DeMarco that I loved him.
16
Marcus
The front door of Fredrick Carrington’s mansion made even a big fucker like me feel small. The massive set of glass double doors had the image of a tree etched into it, and the picture stretched up into the windows above the door at the top of the second story.
A doorman stood to my right. “Name?”
“Marcus Blaine,” I responded and tried to keep my “who the fuck is asking” look off my face.
The guy nodded politely and opened the door. “Welcome, Mr. Blaine.”
Inside, an older gentleman dressed in traditional butler garb waited for me. His black penguin coat nearly touched the back of his knees, and he gave me a long and low bow before addressing me by name.
“Welcome to the Carrington residence, Mr. Blaine. I will escort you to see Master Carrington. Please, this way.” He turned and walked away, and I stared at the back of his greying head as he led me through long weaving hallways toward the back of the house.
The air became increasingly warmer and more humid the farther back we went, and I was tempted to pop open the buttons on the cuffs of my sleeves and roll them up. Sweat beaded on my forehead when the butler pushed open another set of glass doors at the end of the hall. I ducked through, and he gave me another long, formal bow. “Master Carrington will be with you shortly. Is there anything I can get for you, Mr. Blaine?”
“No,” I said as I glanced around the room.
“Very well.” The butler lef
t, and the door closed behind him.
I stood in what appeared to be a massive glass greenhouse attached to the back of the mansion. The ceiling had to be at least twenty feet over my head because fucking palm trees grew amongst the other types of tropical foliage. Running water caught my ear, and I moved around some leafy plants to discover a teardrop-shaped pool in the middle of the room.
“Talk about wicked rich,” I mumbled, finally deciding that it was too warm not to roll my sleeves up. I pushed them up to my elbows and popped open the top two buttons at the collar of my shirt. Then I walked around as I waited on Carrington.
Much to my surprise, I discovered birds in the solarium as well. Birds, bees, and all sorts of bugs. The place was a thriving ecosystem of sorts and appeared to be meticulously maintained.
Fredrick never failed to surprise me. Weird-ass bastard.
The door opened once more, and I turned to see Fredrick Carrington sweep inside. There was a phrase that people tended to look like their pets or vice versa. Well, Fredrick Carrington somehow looked like his fucking house.
Clean cut and sharp lines, with brown hair swept neatly back off his forehead. The style must have cost a lot of product, but it looked like he had just run his hands through his hair to effortlessly move it all into place. His eyes were the same warm color of his hair, and he was clean shaven with brows that I suspected had been shaped. The man cared about his looks. That was for damn sure.
He was also immaculately dressed in a form-fitting dark grey suit with a royal blue shirt underneath. His pocket square matched the swirling pattern on his blue tie, and he adjusted the knot with his thumb and forefinger as he met my eyes.
He walked quickly toward me and extended his hand, which was adorned in several gold rings fixed with varying colored gems.
“I appreciate you making it down here so quickly, Marcus. Come, let’s sit, and I can fill you in on everything I know. I’ve sent for some food to be brought in. Can I get you anything else? Coffee? Something a little stronger?”
Fredrick had already started moving toward a luxurious patio set near one of the glass walls. I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me.
“I’m all right.” I saw no need for niceties. I was here to get a job done, not to sit around and chat over drinks. He wasn’t exactly the kind of guy I would chat with anyway. A smirk lifted my lip as I thought of my first time meeting him at Kadia. Jon, Kate, and I had gone up for fucking Victor Parence, a bastard who had us on a short chain at one time, to check out a new sex drug.
I’d fucked Kate like a champ on the top floor of the club. I was sure Fredrick didn’t mind me rolling up my sleeves. The old boy had seen my eight-inch cock. My wrists were safe.
We sat down at the table, and Fredrick took a while to settle. His movements were quick and jerky, and his eyes darted all over the place. He adjusted his form-fitting jacket several times before crossing one leg over the other and resting his hand on his knee. He began picking at the fabric there, uncrossed his legs, and shifted in his chair. He re-crossed his legs and scratched the back of his neck. “My daughter’s name is Aria. She’s been missing for two days, and I know they took her.”
“Who?” I leaned back and kept my voice even.
“The Bertinellis. Specifically, Erik.”
I felt my eyebrows draw together on my forehead. Was D aware that the Bertinellis might be involved in this mission he’d sent me on? They were another syndicate, and they operated out of New York City. They were top players like the Castalettas, and they were not to be fucked with. D and Joe and Izzy already had enough on their plate as it was.
“What makes you suspect the Bertinellis?” I asked, crossing my hands over my stomach.
The doors opened, and the butler returned, pushing a silver tray adorned with food. He rolled it over to us and placed everything on the table, then topped up a glass of ice water. He pushed it toward me and took a napkin off his tray. He shook it out with a flourish and rested it across my knee.
Such luxury was not my cup of tea. I waited rather impatiently until the butler left us in privacy once more before looking Fredrick right in the eyes.
“Why do you suspect them? What reason would they have to take your daughter?”
Fredrick ran his hands along his thighs. His gaze darted around all the food, plates of fruit, pastries, yogurt, and granola. He never reached for any of it, though. I supposed a man in his position might not have an appetite. It would be a nightmare of sorts.
He finally looked back toward me and let out a frustrated sigh. “I borrowed money from them and have not been able to pay it back due to… a complication during the exchange of hands.”
“So, you fucked up,” I stated plainly.
“Yes, and normally, I would have my brother to turn to, but he is, at this time, not willing to step in and help, not even for his own damn niece.”
I looked around the space we were in and then stared at the spread in front of us. “So, I am to believe that you, one of the wealthiest men in New York, do not have enough money to buy your daughter’s life back?”
He swallowed. “That is correct. I have made mistakes. Plenty of them. And it has never been my family that had to pay for it. I’ve always kept my head above water and done what needed to be done to protect the people I love. But things have gotten out of hand, and I am desperate. I would have the money if they gave me a little more time, but it would seem time is not something they are willing to be generous with. And my Aria… I can’t let those bastards hurt her. Especially not over something as stupid as me mismanaging my funds due to expanding my business too quickly.”
I stroked my chin and regarded the man before me—the father. He was distraught. That was for damn fucking sure. His eyes were sunken and bloodshot, and his twitchy mannerisms spoke volumes about a man under extreme stress. I sighed.
“We’ll get her back. This is what I do for a living. Demetri wouldn’t have sent me if he didn’t think I could handle it.” There couldn’t be any harm in reassuring the rich bastard.
Fredrick nodded absently. “Yes. Yes, I know. Demetri is a good man to have in your corner.”
I kept my thoughts to myself. Did anyone really want a man like Demetri not in his corner?
“Tell me about Aria. I’ve got connections and can start putting some feelers out. See if anyone knows anything about where she might be or what plans the Bertinellis might have for her. Our underground community likes gossip.”
He blinked slowly as if he were trying to understand a new language. “Uh. Yes, of course. She’s young. Twenty-three. Long blonde hair. She’s five foot four—no, five foot five.” Fredrick ran his hand down his face. “Fuck. How can I not know this? I’m her father for fuck’s sake!”
“Take your time.” I waited patiently for the man before me to get his shit under control. My job was not to handle emotional outbursts. I was not made for such things.
“My Aria has brown eyes. Big brown eyes. Plenty of freckles. She’s been spending a lot of time in the sun, so she is tanned. She has a tattoo on her right ankle of a rose that she got when she was still in high school, so it’s faded. The night she was taken, she was wearing her pyjamas. A pale pink silk set. What else can I tell you?” The desperation in his voice was thick and heavy.
“That should be enough for now. If I need anything else, I know how to get a hold of you.”
Someone knocked softly on the door. Fredrick called for the new arrival to come in, and the door opened. He had a harder look to him than the metro billionaire sitting across the table from me. He had dark brown-nearly black hair, and he wore an impeccably trimmed goatee that suited him better than it suited most men. He was broad shouldered and dressed casually in dark jeans and a long-sleeved Henley.
The new arrival strode to our table and pulled out a chair. He dropped down into it heavily and shot me a curious glance before looking back to Fredrick. “You sent for me?”
Fredrick pointed his chin toward me. “Yes. T
his is Marcus Blaine. He’s been sent in from Chicago to help us find Aria. Cole is my best man, and I believe he would be of great help to you, Marcus.”
I offered my hand to Cole, and we shook hands in greeting. Both of us leaned back in our chairs. Mine creaked beneath my weight. There was something about the guy I wasn’t too sure of. Something almost felt off.
“Where do you want to start, Marcus?” Fredrick asked.
I ran my hand over my bald head. “Well, in all cases like this, there’s usually more going on than what meets the eye. I’ll reach out to some of my connections and see if anyone comes back with anything interesting. If not, it looks like we’ll have to pay Erik Bertinelli a visit.”
Fredrick stiffened and looked back and forth between Cole and me. “Do you think that’s wise?”
I shrugged. “If he took her, he did it for a reason.”
“Vengeance,” Fredrick said. I could hear a hint of anger in him now. That was good. Much more my speed than misery. “He wants to punish me.”
I ran my finger along the edge of the table.
“At the risk of sounding insensitive,” I said, “if he wanted to punish you, there is no sense in hiring me to look for your daughter. If I know anything about the Bertinellis, that would mean one thing. She’s already dead. So, do you really believe it’s just about vengeance, or do you think there is more to it than that?”
Fredrick glanced over at Cole, who didn’t say a damn thing. Smart man. Perhaps he agreed with me. Perhaps I had spoken a truth he had wanted to say since the girl was taken. The frazzled man before me chewed his bottom lip.
“You’re right. They took her because they want my money, and they know I’ll do whatever they ask if they have her. She’s leverage when she’s alive. They won’t kill her, but if I know the Bertinellis, which I do, they’ll hurt her.”
I couldn’t disagree with that last statement, and agreeing aloud would help no one. Especially not the father of the girl who was more than likely being used as this Erik’s play thing at this very moment, unless he was with someone. I had my homework cut out for me for sure.