Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
“You’d better find that out before you make that decision then,” Mom said softly. “It’s your life, Olivia. Don’t leave any regrets, okay?”
She was right, I realized. Leaving like this, without any discussion or warning, felt wrong. I couldn’t do it.
I nodded in response, then realized she couldn’t see me through the phone.
“Yeah,” I told her. “Thanks for making me feel better, Mom.”
“No problem, baby. Call me anytime you like.”
I smiled as the call ended, and I breathed out.
I had to decide whether it was worth it to stay or better to leave.
*Giovani*
Again.
They’d struck again.
“Bastards,” I growled under my breath, barely two seconds from launching my fists through the fucking wall.
It took a great deal of self-restraint to make it here without snapping at everyone around me, especially Olivia. Her disappointment of heading back was suffocating, probably dripping off her in waves, but there was nothing I could do.
They’d fucking done it again.
I would have preferred to remain in Paris, too, but I had responsibilities and a duty to the family, something Olivia still didn’t understand.
I took a deep breath, correcting myself. My own guilt of rushing her back was intertwined with my anger, both creating a bomb ready to explode at any minute. It wasn’t fair of me to lecture Olivia.
She would’ve left me long ago if she wasn’t the patient and kind soul she was.
Arriving home and entering the house, I spotted Dahlia and Tallon from the corner of my eye, and I knew they would take care of her, as well as fill her in on all the details I didn’t quite have yet. All I knew was there was another attack–this time with casualties on both sides.
I stormed up to my study, breathing slowly through my nose as I tried to keep a cool head. I grasped the doorknob and pulled the door open, not surprised in the slightest to see Gabriele standing in front of my desk.
I was surprised to see Alessandro, however, sitting in one of the chairs. His head was in his hands, his whole body folded over and for a moment, I thought maybe he was crying–until he lifted his head, and I saw the anger hidden deep within.
He wasn’t crying. He was furious.
“What the fuck happened?” I asked him as I rounded the desk. I pushed my chair away with my foot, not even bothering with it as I grabbed the first folder on my desk and flipped it open.
My eyes searched through the words, skimming until I found what I needed–a report on the incident at a nearby restaurant. Photos of the shooting took precedence–booths with bullet holes, blood splattered across tables, broken glass, and guns dropped to the floor.
It was a mess.
I flipped the page–several pages, actually–detailing coroner’s reports of the bodies recovered. A few of the men were so fucked up, I couldn’t tell if they were ours or theirs.
I pinned my glare on Gabriele and then Alessandro, waiting for an explanation to come pouring out of their mouths. The two exchanged heavy looks, and then Alessandro sighed, straightening in his seat as he stared me down.
“I was having a private dinner with my team. It was a celebration since our last raid had been so successful,” Alessandro started, a cold look on his face as he crossed his arms. “I thought the men deserved it after what we’d been through.”
Fair enough.
I remembered that raid. Alessandro’s team had successfully tracked down one of the suppliers of Dmitri’s men. They raided the warehouse, and all those goods and money got redirected to us. He’d practically stolen straight out of their pockets.
No wonder they’d targeted him when I was away.
“Everything was fine at first.” Alessandro sighed, brushing a hand through his hair. “We ordered drinks and food; nothing was suspicious. In fact, it was normal. But when we were about to pay, the fucking waiter, some kid not even out of school yet, pulled out a fucking gun and shot Emile, right through the fucking chest!”
I breathed out as Alessandro took a shaky breath. He clutched the handles of the chair, gritting his teeth so hard I was afraid they might crack under the pressure.
It was no wonder he was so fucked up right now.
Just like Vincent for me, Emile had been one of Alessandro’s best guys, his right hand in everything they did together. They were inseparable.
Fucking hell.
“And he was just choking on his damn blood, and I couldn’t do a fucking thing to help him–” Alessandro growled, trembling in his chair. “Then chaos unfolded. People started shooting left and right. I couldn’t even tell who was who. Bystanders got caught in the crossfire, and everyone was screaming. I tried to get everyone out, to stop the chaos, but I just… I couldn’t–”
“Stop,” I raised my hand grimly. I knew what he was trying to say. I’d been through it more than once.
“Fuck,” Alessandro muttered, slamming his hands over his head as he shook his head. “There was so much fucking blood. I just… what was I supposed to do? And he was a fucking kid, but Emile–”
He cut himself off, choking with emotion as he took a straggling breath. I knew the feeling. He was one inch from collapsing. I was much the same at the moment.
Vincent had been a hard loss to swallow, and this was even more so.
“How many did we lose?” I frowned, glancing at the report that gave me barely more than nothing.
“Seven of the Russians and five of our men were lost, and another three civilians,” Gabriele reported cooly. “Of the attackers, however, three were just kids.”
“What the fuck is he doing hiring teenagers to be assassins?” I seethed, unable to believe my ears. We had done some fucked up things as part of our jobs, but literal child soldiers….
They reserved a special place in hell for those who hurt children, much less forced them into becoming murderers themselves.
“We believe he recruited them in a hurry after all of his members we decimated during the fire,” Gabriele said, a look of disgust in his eyes as he gestured to one of the folders. “Youngest was fifteen, and the eldest was seventeen.”
I opened up the folder, reading quickly through the printed lines, and my lip curled up in revulsion. He’d practically picked them off the streets, brainwashed them, and forced them to do his bidding.
He made them promises he couldn’t deliver, the same thing anyone else wanted–money, freedom, safety, food.
For a couple of runaways who felt abandoned by the world, that was sometimes all the push they needed to commit murder.
“We need to hit them back,” Alessandro declared loudly, his eyes gleaming with anger as he got to his feet. “Fast and hard.”
“For once I agree,” Gabriele said darkly. “They’ve taken too much from us already. Cutting off their escape routes and resources isn’t going to work. We need to destroy them as soon as possible, before more people get hurt.”
I sighed, rubbing my temples. Like always, the decision ultimately came down to me. There was no good answer to this problem. We still had no idea where Dmitri was hiding, and every time we found a lead, he would slip away once more.
Cutting off his resources, his money, and hiding places wasn’t working either, because he somehow always found someone to hide behind. The fucking bastard was harder to find than an ancient city in a jungle.
But even a rat could be found hiding in a hole.
I shut the folders filled with pictures of the dead and the devastation of a family restaurant. None of them would be forgotten, including the civilians who had only been caught in the crossfire.
