Tipping Point Page 12

  “Okay,” I said, getting to my feet. “Call me if you think of anything that might help us find your daughter. I’m going to start digging.”

  I could feel the eyes of both men on my back as I left the sweltering heat of the luxurious solarium. I made my way back through the winding corridors of lavish hallways and eventually emerged outside, where I went straight to my rental car, slid inside, and cranked the air conditioning. When the temperature had dropped to a more comfortable climate, I called Zak.

  He answered immediately. “Hey. How’s New York?”

  “Same as always. Just bullshit piled on top of even more bullshit.”

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Nah. I can handle it. I think we already know who the guilty party is, anyway. How are things going back at the office?”

  “Everything is under control,” Zak said. “Even Cat is a little more herself this afternoon.”

  “Good. Call me if anything changes. I need to be kept in the loop.”

  “You got it. Later.”

  I ended the call and drummed my fingers along the top of my steering wheel.

  Of course, it was just my luck to get thrown into a Bertinelli mess. This wasn’t going to be an easy fucking fix. They were one of the most powerful families in the mafia, and their reach stretched far. They had friends all over the fucking place, and trying to get dirt on them would not be easy.

  But the life of an innocent girl would be the cost of failure, and so would the wrath of Demetri DeMarco. He was a man who did not accept the inability to get a job done. I was on my own out here, and I needed to come up with a way to solve this shit show before Erik put a bullet in the girl’s head—if she was lucky.

  “This is just your fucking luck,” I grumbled as I drove down the long winding driveway to the front gates of the estate. Security buzzed me out, and I drove onto the main road to head into the city. Bad things always happened in threes.

  Having to kill Audrey.

  Finding out Kate was having Jon’s fucking baby.

  Navigating the streets of New York City to somehow get Aria Carrington out of the clutches of a man set on destroying her family.

  Maybe this shit with the Bertinellis would be the last thing. Maybe it would get better after this. I chuckled at my own naivety.

  “Fuck me. Maybe I’m number three.”

  17

  Demetri

  Yesterday had been a fucking day and a half. After dropping Izzy off at the airport, I was thankful for the distraction of seeing my sister, but the reprieve had been temporary. Having to deal with Fredrick Carrington and shuffle my plans around to get Marcus on a plane that night hadn’t been how I intended on spending the day. I supposed it was nice not to have to think about Izzy, but that was the only perk.

  There had been a lot of pacing the floor and shit, even this morning. Drake and Sicily had left earlier—just after the crack of dawn—to head back to Bar Harbor to pack up their house and move out to Chicago with us.

  “No going back now, little brother,” I mumbled to myself. Fuck me for letting Drake get dragged back into the shitstorm.

  On top of that, Sicily was a little upset.

  I’d overheard her and my brother talking down the hall in his room late Saturday night and then again early this morning. She wasn’t ready for such a big change, and she never signed up for this life. I felt guilty all over again. I was the reason he was here. I couldn’t help but kick myself and wish I had just handled it all on my own. I should have kept him away, where he wanted to be, so he could continue building the life he wanted with his woman on his arm.

  But Joe had known where he was all along, and it was only a matter of time before my little brother got sucked back into our world. His world.

  Drake had promised Sicily over and over that they would make it work here in Chicago. He told her he would buy her a bakery the size of a movie theatre if that was what she wanted. She had smiled; she was a good woman that way. She knew he didn’t have a choice in any of this, and she had sworn to stay by him. He would make things as good for her as he could, and I trusted she would do the same for him.

  Mostly, she didn’t want to leave her friends. From what I knew, the community she lived in with Drake was small and tightknit, and most of her close friends all lived there. It would be a big change, moving from that slower paced life to join us in the syndicate. Sicily was a sweet girl with a heart made for loving people and filling their bellies with treats. She was not like the women who hung around our family. She was not like Izzy. Our way of life might very well be too much for her.

  But she and Drake could make it work. They had to.

  It took me a while to get my ass out of the house and hop on my bike. The sun warmed my shoulders as I took the long way to the Castaletta mansion, but it didn’t chase away the cold darkness sitting in my chest. I wanted to be out of this fucking storm. I hated that Izzy was so far away from me.

  Completely alone and on a mission for her brother’s blood.

  I wanted to be by her side, seeing this thing through to the end with her. I wanted to be there to hold her when it was over and beg her forgiveness for all the fucking madness we’d put each other through.

  “You’re going soft,” I muttered to myself as I leaned the bike low, taking a curving turn on a back road. The winding back roads often helped me turn off my thoughts and just ride, but with all the shit going on, I was unable to stop running through it all. Soft was something I’d never been around Izzy. I chuckled at the thought, and my cock twitched.

  All illusions of lust died down as my thoughts shifted to Marco. Why would he have done this? Killing Vivian had been a big play—a play that jumpstarted this whole thing. He never seemed to give a shit about mixed blood in the house. I’d never even caught a whiff of that kind of thinking from him before. He could have easily ruled from the underboss seat that I held. If Joe allowed it, of course.

  And Marco loved Izzy. I knew that for fucking certain. The two of them had always been close; thick as thieves, even. They had stuck together like glue as kids and saved one another from their father’s wrath on numerous occasions. Even now that they were adults, they still had one another’s back.

  Like the way Izzy had protected him when I tried to kill him.

  I shook my head as I turned up the driveway to the Castaletta mansion. I had to stop thinking about that night. It never brought any relief to keep reliving it over and over again. I could still see the way Izzy had looked at me in my mind. I could hear the gunshot and her scream, and I could feel the tightness in my chest when I realized I had broken her in half that night.

  “Fuck,” I growled as I pulled to a stop at the front doors.

  Timothy waved as I got off the bike and walked over. He took my gun, as per the back-in-effect policy, and I ducked inside the house.

  Raised voices were coming from the kitchen. If my ears were correct, which they usually were, it sounded like Edward and Maria, the house maid.

  My phone started buzzing. “What now?” I asked aloud, wishing people would just leave me the fuck alone. A day was all I needed to clear my head. I hoped it would be Izzy as I lifted the phone. “Yes?”

  “Demetri, it’s Jesse Parnz,” a smooth male voice said into the speaker.

  I hadn’t heard from Jesse in at least a few weeks. “Hey, Jesse. Everything good?”

  “Eliza and I are well. She’s here with me.” A woman’s voice called hello in the background, and I smirked. Jesse and Eliza were a married couple who ran our Dimonzio Casino down in Las Vegas. They were capable people who managed our gambling scene for the syndicate, and I liked them both, even if they were good friends of Edward’s. “We have a problem, Demetri.”

  Of course they fucking did. Everyone with an asshole had a problem right now, and I was the guy who had to fix them all. “Lay it out for me.”

  “Not to be evasive, but I don’t want to discuss details over the phone. Can you send someone down to us? Or
come yourself?”

  “That bad?” I locked my teeth together as a headache sprang up from the left side of my skull.

  “It has the potential to be. We want to nip it in the bud, but this is over our heads.” The poor guy sounded like his colon was clenched up to the base of his Adam’s apple.

  “Let me see what I can do. I’m not going to be able to make it down myself. Poor timing. But I’ll see if I can send Edward down or something.” Fuck me. Edward was about the only one I had available outside of my cousin, who ran our arms ring. He was shit with people, so that was a no-go.

  “If he’s free, we’ll take him.”

  “I’ll make him free,” I said firmly. “Just give me a bit more to go on here. Is this a life or death kind of situation?”

  “Money and death.”

  “Fuck. All right. Hang tight. I’ll be in touch.” Money was life around the Castaletta house, and with all the shit surrounding the drug ring, we needed to keep our gambling ring intact and spitting out money like a horny teenager spits out lies to get laid.

  I got off the phone and walked to the kitchen where Eddie and Maria’s voices were growing steadily louder. They were standing on either side of the island. Eddie was bent over, leaning on his elbows and running his fingers through his hair.

  “What the fuck is going on in here?” I asked.

  Eddie looked up, and Maria turned to face me. Her hand was on her chest, and she looked genuinely worried. “Excuse me,” she said, dipping her chin low and slipping out of the kitchen to leave Eddie and me alone.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and faced Izzy’s fuck buddy. His face was still purpled and bruised from my fists the other night. I felt grim satisfaction at that.

  “I asked you a question,” I growled. “What’s going on?”

  Eddie straightened up and shook his head. His eyes were wide, and his hair was a tangled mess from continuously raking his fingers through it. “Nobody is answering their fucking phone, man. I’ve been trying to get a hold of Izzy all fucking morning. Nothing. Same with Audrey. I’m worried that something has happened to them and—”

  “Audrey’s dead,” I said flatly.

  Eddie sucked in a sharp breath of surprise and took a single staggering step away from the kitchen island. He looked as if I’d just punched him in the gut. “What? She’s dead? How? When?”

  “Doesn’t matter. She was the rat. We had to handle it.”

  “Doesn’t matter?” The color drained from his perfect face. “She helped us with the Kallups. With the shit that went down at the hooker house.”

  How the fuck Izzy got Joe to let this fucking frat boy join our syndicate was beyond me.

  “Whorehouse, and you heard me. She betrayed the family. She was a liar. This is why Joe always tells us not to get involved, Eddie.” I said his name like it was poisonous on my tongue. “To keep us from fucking up like this and getting in over our heads.”

  Eddie narrowed his eyes. “Not to get involved like you and Izzy, you mean?”

  “Shut your fucking mouth,” I hissed, moving around the counter. He didn’t retreat. He held his ground until I was on him with my fist wrapped in the front of his stupid fucking polo shirt. “Izabella is none of your damn business, and I’m sick of you thinking she is.”

  Eddie pried at my fingers closed over his shirt. “Take your hands off me, D. I belong here just as much as you do, you bastard.”

  I shoved him backward, and his back hit the counter behind him. He braced himself and glared at me as I pointed a finger at his chest. “I don’t give a fuck what you think about me. You work for this family. You know what that means, pretty boy? You work for me. Don’t like it? Do us all a favor and leave. I’m not doing this jealous friend-zoned lover bullshit with you right now.”

  Eddie glared at me. His chest was rising and falling quickly.

  I knew adrenaline would be rushing in his veins as it was mine. I wanted to pummel him into the floor again. But Izzy wouldn’t stand for that. He was her friend, whether I liked it or not. I had to stop losing control of myself and hurting people she cared about. And hurting her.

  “Fuck you, D.”

  “Not interested.” I paused for a tense moment of silence, not breaking eye contact with the little prick. “I have a job for you.”

  “Oh yeah?” Eddie said dryly.

  “Jesse and Eliza need another man down at the Dimonzio. I told them I would send you.”

  “You just want to get rid of me,” Eddie growled.

  “You’re damn fucking straight I do. But I also know the three of you go way back. You can help them, and they trust you. This is a business decision. Nothing more.” I reached out and pressed my hands to the island, trying hard not to let my anger spike again.

  Eddie straightened his shirt out and pressed at the wrinkles I had created in his collar. “Fine.”

  “You’ll go tonight.”

  “Fine,” he said again.

  Moody-ass teenage boy. Why Izzy ever wanted to be friends with him, I would never understand. But at the same time, I’d just hit the guy with a lot of bad news. I knew that he was fond of Audrey, and I hadn’t sugar-coated her death. I sighed and scratched the back of my head.

  “Besides, getting out of town might be good for you. Help you clear your head. Get away from this shit with Audrey.” I didn’t always have to be the bad guy. “We wouldn’t have killed her if—”

  “Have you talked to Izabella since she left?” His jaw locked as his bright blue eyes bored into me.

  I considered lying but knew it would do neither of us any good. “No.”

  “Then how do you know she’s okay?”

  I smirked. “Because she’s fucking Izabella Castaletta.”

  “Touche,” he mumbled as his shoulders fell.

  Izzy being a bad ass was the only thing we could usually agree on.

  18

  Izabella

  The smell of sage brought me to my senses, lulling me out of unconsciousness and guiding me to wakefulness. I kept my eyes closed, wary of who might be with me, and assessed what I could without my sight.

  It was warm, and there was a breeze. The gentle sound of something rustling, like a soft fabric, suggested there were curtains nearby. If I was lucky, I was in Adam Cooper’s house rather than some unnamed clubhouse somewhere in California that nobody knew about.

  I attempted to move but realized I was tied down to a chair. I was upright, I realized suddenly, and my ankles and wrists were bound to the chair by wire. If I pulled too hard, it bit into my skin. I relaxed and tried to feel out other clues.

  I was still fully dressed. Thank God. Not that I’d expected Adam to strip me naked. He was too classy for that shit. At least, he seemed it.

  My chin rested on my chest, and I strained my ears to hear birds chirping nearby. Windows were open. The sound of a thin page of a book turning told me I was not alone. Water dripped out of a faucet somewhere. There was a bathroom close by.

  I had to be in a bedroom somewhere.

  I sat there for a few more moments, eyes closed, trying to get my bearings. Then I opened my eyes. There was no point in delaying the inevitable, and the only way for me to escape was to see my surroundings.

  Adam Cooper sat across from me. There was a plush white rug between us and a fireplace to our right. A king-sized bed was to my left, and it was covered in pillows and blankets of varying shades of cream. Behind Adam was a set of French doors opening up onto a terrace. The afternoon breeze blew in from there, catching the sheer white curtains around the door and blowing them inward. It appeared that we were on the second floor.

  “The slumbering beauty wakes.” His smile was almost sweet.

  I snapped my gaze back to Adam. He folded the corner of his page down and closed his book, letting it rest in his lap. Then he crossed his hands over it and cocked his head to the side as he smiled at me. The look in his eyes made my veins burn with anger, though I held it back. He stared at me the way a man might stare at
a bird in a cage with clipped wings. Bastard. Maybe he wasn’t the man I believed him to be. Maybe he was behind my brother’s treachery.

  “Sorry about the bump on the head,” Adam said, completely overlooking my silence. “It was a necessary measure. I know how much of a handful you can be, and I couldn’t take any risks. You are the Izabella Castaletta”

  I ignored the pounding in the back of my head from where he had struck me. I ignored him too.

  “I have to admit,” he continued, “I’m still rather lost by all this. Here I was the other day, minding my business, when suddenly a war landed on my doorstep. A war that I am personally very invested in.” He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and the book fell to the floor between his feet. He left it there. “You see, I always knew the Bertinellis and the Castalettas had good reason to kill my father. And I knew that one of them was behind it. It took me a long time, years in fact, but I got over it. I accepted it. I’m sure you can understand that, Izabella. We children of the Don’s are not so different. Death lurks everywhere, and when it strikes, we must persevere.”

  I tugged absently at the wire on my wrists. The pressure was painful—enough for me to think I might be drawing blood.

  “Then someone yanked on the Kallups’ chain,” Adam continued. “Why? I was working to get them the fuck out of Chicago. Then, all of a sudden, they go ahead and start a turf war between me and the great Joe Castaletta. Why would someone want to start something so big, Izabella? You’re a smart woman. I want to know what you think.”

  “I think you should let me go,” I bit out.

  Adam chuckled and nodded. “I want to. Believe me, I do. This is not how I saw things going for us.”

  “Me neither,” I said sharply. “But like you said. We’re the children of Dons. Things rarely go how we see them going. And if they do, there’s always more to the story.”