Page 108 of Hate to Love You

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Page 108 of Hate to Love You

Trevor swallows hard and looks down at the floor.

“I mean I broke my tooth,” he says, his voice trembling. “And it cut my lip.”

I smirk.

Most people in his position would likely out the man who just beat the living shit out of him. After all, Trevor and the terrified man next to him have to understand that the probability of them leaving this place in one piece is slim to none.

However, the beaten and battered Trevor, just chose to keep his mouth shut. It’s a gamble that’s unlikely to pay off, which is why I find that kind of awareness and bravery in the face of terror intriguing.

“Oleg,” I snap, holding out my hand.

He opens his switchblade and a trembling Trevor flinches at the sound, screwing his eyes shut, and clenching his jaw as Oleg places the knife in my hand.

Appraising him carefully, I walk around him and cut the zip ties on his hands, freeing him.

But Trevor isn’t stupid enough to run, likely aware of how many guns are pointed at him at the moment. Instead, he pulls his sore arms in front of him, rubbing his wrists and looking up at me. Stepping forward I sit down on the cold metal chair in front of him, handing him my handkerchief for his bleeding lip.

“Now, what have you told my men?” I ask.

“Boss, he told us that—” Noah starts to say, but I immediately hold up my hand, and glare at him.

“If I wanted to hear from you,” I snap venomously. “I would’ve fucking asked you. So shut the hell up, or you’ll go in the grinder with the rest of them.”

“Yes, Boss,” Noah nods, lowering his eyes to the floor and stepping back into the crowd that now encircles us.

“Go on, Trevor,” I say with a smile. “I’m anxious to know how out of all the people who died in the explosion at the restaurant that day, you somehow made it out?”

“As I told them, Mr. Antonov,” he says quietly. “I was hired by Cillian McCleary.”

“Hired to do what exactly?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him. “To kill me? To just drop a bomb in my Cacio y Pepe and then run for the door?”

He shakes his head, his eyes wide.

“Oh God No, Sir!” he says, swallowing hard. “He only asked me to let him know when you arrived. All they wanted was for me to call them if you showed up for your reservation.”

“Well, you had to know about the bomb,” I scoff softly. “Because how else would you have known to leave before it went off and killed people?”

“I swear to you, I didn’t know anything about any bomb! I swear on my mother’s life! After you left, I…I…” He says, his eyes falling from mine.

“Go on.”

“Well, I went straight outside to smoke, and have a bit of a freak out,” Trevor says quietly. “I thought for sure I’d done something to piss you off, and like you’re…you. I mean, you’re Roman fucking Antonov, and I was terrified that when Alberto found out I’d upset you, he was going to be furious with me, and fire me. So, I was outside in the back having a mental breakdown when the bomb went off.”

I have to stop myself from smirking, my eyes finding Cal’s who nods, silently confirming that he believes Trevor is telling the truth.

“And what about Alberto?” I ask, scanning his eyes. “Did Cillian McCleary tell you about his plans for him? How he, his girlfriend, and all their house staff were going to be brutally murdered with their throats slashed open?”

“Oh my God, no!” He gasps, covering his mouth. “You don’t understand, Mr. Caruso was a mentor to me! He was helping me pay my way through culinary school. I would never, ever, betray that man! He was like a father to me. If I had any idea that he was in trouble or that I was going to bring him trouble…I…I…”

Trevor starts to hyperventilate, coughing and gagging loudly, panic written on his face.

“Oh my God,” he gasps, trying to breathe. “Cillian used me. He…he…set me up! All over two-hundred fucking dollars that I didn’t even get!”

“Two hundred dollars,” I repeat, shaking my head, glancing up at Cal. “I suppose it’s pretty easy to promise money to a kid that you think will die in the explosion. But that’s how they do things.”

“I can’t believe this!” Trevor cries, his hands shaking. “I didn’t know! I swear to God I didn’t!”

“He’s lying!” Jacques shouts from the crowd.




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