PRICKLY SITUATION

DANTES'S POV

It's been three hours since I got the call. I needed to do something–fast. Something about the green-eyed brunette has me questioning myself and my decisions.

I picked up the burner phone and made the call. “Keep an eye on her. Nothing, not even a scratch on her skin.”

“But boss, are you sure it's wise to leave her living free? She knows you are alive.” I had thought about it. Dragging the spitfire into my world wasn't wise either. She has some type of effect on me.

“Keep an eye on her. Make sure she is safe.” I ordered, and ended the call.

Still sipping the whiskey from the bottle. “Now was time to play the game. Whoever wanted me dead better be ready to give me a good reason why I should be.” I murmured to no one in particular.

Stifling a yawn, I decided it's time to nap. I checked the gun, bullets filled, the dagger sharp. I nodded in satisfaction. I made sure the door was locked and the window blinds down.

The dull sound music sound coming from the club should have lulled me to sleep. – but no. My mind was too loud. The air felt different. Heavier even.

I angrily flung the half-empty whiskey bottle on the table. Hearing the dull thud as it landed beside the file I hadn’t touched since it was dropped off.

Her face stared back at me from the printed photo. Those doe -shaped green eyes, like forests I could lose myself in. Wild. Unapologetic. And goddamn too dangerous—for me.

I relaxed into the worn-out chair, my muscles tense but screaming at me. Despite the exhaustion I felt, my mind was full.

My fingers tapped out a rhythm as I recalled every every detail I knew about her. She didn’t hesitate to give me her blood to survive. She took good care of me, though she hated my guts. She looked at me like she saw something else underneath my facade. That terrified me more than any fight.

A knock on the door startled me, bringing me out of my reverie.

I stretched my hands, reaching for my gun. Three slow taps in a rhythm. A pause. The code. One of mine.

I slid the gun from under the blanket and held it in a tight grip, regardless. I approached the door silently, pressing my eye to the peephole. It was my best recon. “E”

I opened the door just a bit.

“Report,” I said.

“She’s clean,” he said immediately. “No contacts with law enforcement, no calls to anyone suspicious. She went home. Opened a bottle of wine and hasn’t left since. She’s... quiet.”

“Too quiet,” I muttered. “Something is going on or she just gave up because I'm dead. Dig deeper. We don't want to miss anything.”

He looked uncertain. “Boss… she doesn’t look like she’s planning anything. Honestly, she looked like she was trying not to fall apart from anger.”

He took careful steps towards me, “you know she wanted you to hand over file 69. But you didn't.” He shrugged. Besides where is it?”

I gestured for him to come in. I don't want to grab the attention of people by the hallway.

I closed the door slowly, locking it behind him. My eyes glued to he floor, tapping the gun to my forehead.

I couldn't decide if I was missing something or …..

“Boss, I don't Rebecca is our problem right now. Even though she is fillled with contempt towards you.”

“For all I know, she could be a part of this,” I said, more to myself than to him.

“Then why not confront her?”

I looked up at E, his face blank and void of any emotion.

“Because confronting her would be a dead giveaway that I'm alive. Idiota”

He gave a small nod, laced with a hint of sinister smile I would have missed if I didn't look well.

I smirked inwardly, though I was furious. One traitor discovered.

“You need to destroy file 69, where is it? I can help.”

I looked him dead in the eye. “I give the orders here. Not You!. LEAVE!” I yelled.

When he was gone, I sat back on the chair.

I picked up the phone. “Mante, we have a mole. Don't let E get to his destination.”

“Sì Capo.” And the line went dead

“I'll get to Rebecca myself. She was the only person that knew my location before the attack.

The loud noise from the outside felt distant in here, like the world was retiring. I'll protect Audrey myself. Piccola Fuoco.

I pulled the file closer and flipped it open. More pictures. Surveillance notes. Background check.

Name: Audrey Romano

Age: 25

Occupation: Er Nurse. Of course.

I stared at her face. My jaw tightened. “What the hell Dante.” I cursed. It's just gratefulness. I tossed her file aside.

I picked the next one

Name: Mariana Padilla

Age: 28

Occupation: journalist. I slammed the file on the table. Fucking journalist.

They used a bloody journalist to lure me to Pheonix.

But something about the reports didn’t sit right. She hadn’t published anything since the attack. No articles, no blog posts. Silence.

Was she laying low, or was something bigger about to happen?

I picked up my phone, texting a different contact.

Trace her recent activity. Bank, phone, internet….. whatever. Do it quietly.

I put the phone down and ran a hand through my thick black hair.— I needed a hair cut.

My old wounds burned. They hurt flared from my shoulder down to my torso. Old scars of bullets injuries decorated my body leaving ridges and they itched whenever danger was near.

Something wasn’t right.

The failed hit on me… the intel they planted… the trap. Someone wanted me gone, and they were becoming careless or creating ruse to distract me.

That made them dangerous.

But what made them even more dangerous to me— Audrey Romano.

She might be in more danger than I'm anticipating.

“Or maybe, she was the bait.” I thought. Either way. I'll keep an eye and protect her myself.

The thought made my stomach churn with dread.

I grabbed the dagger by the table, running my thumb across the sharp tip. Blood gushed instantly. Still sharp. Good.

“I will lure them to me or maybe use Audrey as bait,” I whispered into the dark. Though the thought didn't sit well with me.

I turned off the lights and laid on the scrunchy bed. My gun by the pillow, dagger beside it.

Sleep didn’t come easy. It never did anyway. Not when I've got an unknown target on my back and a woman you can’t afford to protect or loose stuck in rhet back of mind.

But as my eyes shut, her voice echoed in my head.

“I hope you didn't bleed out and siet somewhere?”

I hissed in annoyance. “sto diventando uno stronzo”

Standing up, I packed my stuff and left the clubhouse.