Page 90 of For Your Eyes Only
With the bottle in my hand, I slide down to sit on the wooden floor, holding the cotton shirt over my hot, wet eyes, over my nose, so I can breathe it in like oxygen.
Between breaths, I drink vodka, until after what seems like a long time, my phone buzzes with a text from Marco.She’s gone.
My world ends. My stupidly expensive, guilded world with all the money I was determined to make by any means necessary. What does it matter, now that it has taken everything I love?
I take another, longer sip.
Then another.
* * *
A guywith a sledgehammer is banging on an anvil.
No, it’s faster than that.
A guy with a jackhammer is breaking up the pavement.
My eyes squeeze, and I push off the floor. A near-empty bottle of vodka rolls away from me, and I hold the side of the bed as I stand. Someone is beating on my door with a vengeance.
I’m not sure I’m even dressed as I shuffle from my bedroom, studying the destruction of my living room, broken glass covering the floor.
Down the narrow hallway, a muffled voice is outside yelling. I go to it, leaning forward to look through the peephole. It’s Bianca.
Frowning, I turn the bolt, but before I can even open the door, it pushes me against the wall.
“You fucking bastard.” She’s too loud, and the light from the hallway is too bright. “You cruel, fucking bastard.”
Holding up a hand, I cover my eyes. The last thing I remember is turning off my gas stove, thank God. “What time is it?”
“Time for you to tell me what happened, you ungrateful monster.” Bianca is loud. “I brought her to you. I told her you were a good man, a caring boss. I vouched for you.”
“Your mistake,” I growl through my cotton-mouth.
“Don’t give me that shit. Gia was an innocent girl, agoodgirl, and you treated her like trash.”
I know.I don’t answer.
She pushes past me, headed to the living room. “You say she jeopardized your business? She brought more money into your club than anyone ever did. She had talent. Correction, she has talent.Youare the trash who needs to be thrown out. I hope you burn for what you did to her. I hope…”
I don’t know why she stops. She’s right. Every word from her mouth is a whip I would use to beat myself, tear my own flesh, if I could. Instead, all I can do is take it.
Silence stretches between us. She pauses at my couch, studying the wreckage. “What happened here? Did you do this to her? Did you hit her?”
“No.” My voice is sandpaper. “She had already gone.”
Reaching out, I brace my hand on the side of the bar, doing my best to stay upright. She needs to get out of here. Where the fuck is Franco?
“What are you holding?” She closes the space between us, taking Gia’s shirt from my grip. “It’s hers. You smell like a distillery. What are you hiding? What’s really going on?”
Fuck. If I could tell Bianca, I would’ve told Gia. If there were any way around this, I would’ve taken it.
“Nothing.” I clear my throat, doing my best to shake the heartbreak I failed to drown in vodka. “You’re right. I don’t deserve her. So I sent her away.”
Bianca’s dark brow furrows, and she frowns in my face. “I don’t believe you. Why do you look like shit? You destroyed your apartment? Why?”
“Stop.” I snatch the shirt from her hands. I’m never letting that scrap of fabric out of my grip. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. I’m the boss.”
“Not anymore. I came to let you know I quit, and most of the girls are quitting too. They heard what you did to Gia, and they don’t want to work for you anymore.”