Page 23 of Blood Lust

If she was pretty enough, I might consider taking her in exchange for my money. If not, I had places she could earn it—I had my fair share of interest in several strip clubs in the area. Though it might take her a long damn time. Antonio reluctantly pulled out his wallet as I watched. He fumbled and almost dropped everything. I had to fight not to roll my eyes.

This is what I have working as soldiers for me?

Finally, he worked a tattered image from his wallet and held it out. I took it and gave him a deadpan stare. “Really? When was this taken? When she was three?”

“Well, yes. It was in her mother’s things, and I put it in my wallet. I uh, don’t keep actual photographs, Boss. And I can’t bring my phone in here.”

“Pietro.”

Pietro tossed his phone at Antonio, who caught it and looked at me in question.

“Well, in this day and age, everyone has some type of social media. Right? Look her up.” I certainly didn’t, but I wasn’t most people.

Antonio swallowed so hard, we could hear it, but his fingers flew over the screen. Then he held it out to me. This time, there was no mistaking the tremble in his hand.

I took it and glanced down. Years of training allowed me to keep a straight face, but inside I was rocked to the core. Was this a joke?

Backing out of the image, I was taken to her profile page. Alia Stewart. Editor.

Holy fucking shit. It was the girl from that book signing I’d taken my mother to in Texas. My brain spun as it went into overdrive. Then I remembered my mom saying that M. Merin was previously from Chicago, and everything clicked.

During the signing, I’d received a phone call before Mom hit this M. Merin’s table, so I missed it all. That had to have been the friend “Lee” was there with. I tossed the phone back to Pietro, then casually slid my hands into my slacks pockets. He coughed to cover his choking sound.

“I’ll offer you a deal.”

Antonio became instantly wary—as he should. “Yes, Boss?”

“I will wipe away your debt… in exchange for your daughter for six months.”

Antonio protested. “She doesn’t know anything about this. I’ve sheltered her. She has no experience in this life. She thinks I’m a salesman. Gabriel, you’re asking me to put my daughter’s life in jeopardy—to hand her over to you like property.”

“Yourlife is already in jeopardy. So make your choice. Either I take her, or you’re paying for this debt. Today.”

“But—”

“And let me remind you that my money is nothing to play with.”

“I understand, Gabriel. But please give me twenty-four hours. She has to be willing. If she’s not, then I will return alone and you will have your payment,” he begged as the lines of his face deepened and he appeared to age before my eyes.

My jaw ticked.

As did the antique clock on the wall.

Finally, I nodded. “Very well. If she’s willing to take your place, your debt will be forgiven. If not, you better be here. There will not be a single place you can hide from me. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go.”

The man scurried out of my office like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels. Because they were.

The door closed quietly, and Pietro whistled as he stared at his phone. “What are the odds, huh?”

“Evidently, pretty good,” I mused. In my chest, my heart was slamming erratically around like a ping-pong ball. I’d tried to forget about her, but she’d haunted me. In my dreams, I relived that night again and again.

Each morning, I told myself I was losing it. That there was no way I’d fallen in love in one night, nor did I believe I was capable of that type of love. Yet, I couldn’t shake my memories of her.

And now, she was being laid at my feet.