Page 83 of The Gangster King

My gun is in my hand and pointed at his forehead before I know what I’m doing.

“Stop,” Braxton says and shoves my arm, just as the bullet leaves the weapon. It pings off the outside of the building.

“Fuck.” Jono drops to his knees.

I whirl.

“The fuck are you doing?” I yell at Braxton, pointing the gun at him. “Is this your doing?”

His hands lift in defense. “No. I have no interest in Adelina.”

Shaking with fury, I stare at him until my head clears enough—for now—to believe him.

“Dante!” Nick demands my attention, and I turn back.

She’s gone.

Who took her? Did she run? Did someone wait for her in the restrooms?

“Check the cameras,” Braxton says behind me. “I know, but just check them and...”

I slowly turn to him and listen as he has a fucking conversation with himself.

Fuck me.

How have I let this happen again?!

“You’re bugged? The fuck!” I lift my gun again, this time I jab it in his chest. “Who is it? The FB fucking I?”

He glares at me.

“Yeah, he’s losing his mind. See if they can tap into the outside cameras too. She’s likely gone by now if she had help.” He keeps talking and I’m almost ready to pull the damn trigger.

With his hands still up, Braxton meets me in the eye and the darkness that I saw in him weeks ago is back. When he speaks it's with a low menacing growl. “Drop the gun or I will remove it.”

I’m about to point out that he’s in no position to tell me what to do when he adds. “Or someone else will.”

He lifts a brow while I work it out.

Fuck.

He was never alone. He was guarded the entire time. It was stupid of me to think he wasn’t. These men are Marines. Barrett’s organization is a top private security firm doing contracts for high paying individuals and companies.

As if Braxton would just show up here unprotected.

“Two seconds.” He growls.

“I can shoot you in one.” I take a step forward and hear him say “hold.”

“You think I won’t?” I hiss. “Shoot me and we both go down.”

“Last warning. I won’t be able to hold them off after this.”

I lower it an inch and he glances down at his cock. Then back at me. I’m tempted to smile.

“Fine, shoot him.”

I move the gun and lift my hands, glancing around. “Your boy lives. I’ll even let him keep his cock.”