“You don’t have another narc in your club. It’s always been Emerald.”

“How can that be?” I question.

“Every bit of information she found out, she told that dirt bag Kryder, who then went back and told Royal.”

“What the fuck? How do we know this to be true? I mean, how the hell did you find all this out?”

“I have my ways. It may take time, time we don’t have right now.”

I walk around to the other side of his desk and I stare him down.

“Don’t hide shit from me, Salvatore. You’re like a father to me. How did you find out?”

“I’ve been on the phone with many people, asking if anyone has spotted Royal. He’s been hanging out the past few nights at The Rose Garden. It’s a nightclub in Times Square. I have video surveillance from the club.”

He leans forward in his chair and opens some files on his laptop, then turns it around and slides it over to me.

There they are, cozying up to each other at the bar. Another shot shows them kissing. Her back is to me in this one. It’s her though, I know it’s her. I continue to click. There are several shots of them on the dance floor, then back at the bar. The video comes to an end as they exit.

“Where is she now?”

I’m going to burn her alive. Listen to her scream.

“I’m going to assume she’s with him.”

My heart stops beating. Whatever type of revenge Royal wants on his family, she knows absolutely nothing about anything. They’ll kill her. I can’t even think straight. My wife is a strong woman. But to withstand being drugged, or even worse, beaten and tortured? She won’t be able to handle it.

“John’s due back anytime,” continues Salvatore. “I have resources everywhere, including quite a few cops who tend to turn their cheeks the other way when it comes to my business affairs. He’s here in New York, I know he is. He won’t do anything quietly; he wants my attention. He wants me to feel fear. He had my fear the moment I found out he took those two. We just need to find them before he sends me his message.”

“What message might that be?”

I swallow down the answer I already know in the back of my throat.

“He’ll torture one of them while the other one watches. He’ll video the whole thing. I know how his sick mind works.”

Chapter Twenty

Calla

“You monster!” I scream.

“Who are you?”

His ferocious, intimidating laugh would normally scare me. I see Manny looking at me through one eye. The other is badly bruised and swollen shut. He’s been brutalized. Blood is everywhere. How he can even be alive at this point is beyond me, but that one eye, the one that is barely open, is pleading with me to keep my mouth shut. There is no way in hell I am going to lie here and watch him be tortured. Or worse, killed. My head starts spinning, my stomach rolling from the sight in front of me.

I’m thrown back down by this animal. I kick and scream at him to let me go with all of my might, hurting myself even more as I struggle to get free.

“Come over here and help me tie her down!” He roars.

“Fuck you, you bastard!”

Somehow I’m able to get one arm free. I bring it up and claw at his face with my nails. Blood instantly pours out, dripping everywhere.

“Leave her alone, Royal. Or would you prefer me to call you Scarface.

It’s Manny, his voice small and barely recognizable.

“Fuck off, little brother.”

My eyes go wide. I stop trying to get away. All I can hear is ‘little brother.’ I look closely at the beast towering over me. The resemblance is there; that single eye is identical to Manny’s. I’m going to be sick. These two are brothers. I don’t understand.

“So, now you know who I am,” he sneers, glancing down at me.

I recognize it in his tone, too. They sound so much alike. I’m in such a daze that I don’t even see or hear the other man come around to the opposite side of the bed until I feel a prick in my arm.

“No, Royal! Fuck you! It’s me you want, not her. Fucking leave her alone, God damn you!”

“Manny.”

Is that me talking? Whatever it is they just shot me up with has my head foggy. A euphoric feeling travels through my veins. My skin is burning up, itching everywhere, but I can’t scratch it. I can’t move. At least my body doesn’t hurt anymore. Are they tying my hands down? My legs? I can still hear someone thrashing about, screaming and hollering. I don’t know how long this lasts. Maybe seconds, minutes, hours? I’m alert. At least I think I am.

“Wake up, princess.”

A series of sharp slaps is delivered to my face. I become more aware of the stinging the more I come back to consciousness.

“You had quite a little nap. Now, up you go.”

I start to gag the minute he lifts me up.

“She’s gonna lose it! Toss me that bucket,” he says.

I start to heave. Some of it lands on the floor before the bucket is shoved under my face. I throw up until there is nothing left, and then I dry heave until I feel rawness in my throat. I swipe my mouth with the back of my hand. The acidy bitterness I taste makes me want to puke again. He shoves a glass of what looks like water in my face.

“Drink.”

My throat burns. It hurts worse than anything.

“I don’t want it.”

“It’s water. Believe me, I know you want it. Your throat is so tight, you can hardly breathe. So unless you want more of what Raymond gave you, you will drink this.”

I take a small sip and he forcefully pulls it away. It does nothing to help the burning sensation in my throat.

“Better?” asks the man I know as Scarface.

No, I’m not better, but I’m not about to tell him I want more water. Fuck him.

Then it all comes back. I heard someone say ‘brother.’ I can’t remember who, but I know someone did.

“Manny is your brother?” I ask.

My throat is so dry, it hurts to even talk. His intense orbs glare into mine.

“By blood, yes.”

“I don’t understand. If he’s your brother, then why are you doing this? Why hurt him?”

He chuckles that evil laugh again, his eyes turning cold as ice.

“I’m an outcast to them. The evil one. The fuck up. And he’s about to get what is rightfully mine. I can’t let that happen. He will die first, princess.”

Why he’s calling me princess has me perplexed. My mom is a princess, not me. I know very little about this life; only what I’ve been told. And no one has told me about him. I can see why. He’s an enemy who has obviously been waiting to strike.

“You look a little mixed up there, Calla.”

The sudden use of my given name shocks me; however, I will not show my fear. I’m the daughter of John Greer. No way will I let my fear be known to this man. I trust my family. Whatever reasons they had for banishing him from the family, I stand by them.

“You’re sick! That’s your brother! He’s my family. You won’t get away with this. Whatever vendetta you have, you may as well give it up now. My dad will find you, you son of a bitch, and when he does, you’re going to wish he hadn’t.”

“You mentioned family. I’m your blood, princess. You know, it really is too bad you and I are on opposite sides. A beautiful woman with a sharp mind can be very dangerous. I could see myself actually liking you.”

“Screw you. You’re not my family. If you mean nothing to them, then you mean even less to me.”

Malice is what I feel for this man, although he’s not really a man at all. I’m now within an inch of his face. His undamaged eye scans me meticulously, observing my strength. All of it comes from being the daughter of John and Priscilla Greer. I may not have known the true lives they have lead, but one thing they taught me was to never show your fear.

“You’re a snake. A cowardly one, at that. I promise you, cousin, you’re going to die from your own venom.”

“Snakes strike when you least expect, Calla. I want you gone just as much as I want my brother gone. And as far as John goes, I want him to come. It’s just too bad that by the time he does find us, my dear little brother will be dead and so will you. I have plans for you. You’ll be gone before they get here and if we’re not, I’ll take care of him. It’s about time he retires, anyway.”