Chapter 6

ARMANDO

The music in the club was deafening; a mix of heavy bass and fast beats that rattled through the VIP section. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, alcohol, and perfume.

Neon lights flashed over the room, painting everything in shades of pink, purple, and blue while girls in tiny bikinis moved through the space, dancing on platforms and flaunting their bodies like they were on display.

It was all a blur—girls grinding against poles, hands grabbing at cash, the sound of laughter mixed with the music. None of it could drown out the storm of thoughts in my head.

I sat in the corner of the VIP section, a glass of whiskey in my hand. The booth was plush, expensive, and isolated from the chaos of the main floor. Matteo was beside me, completely in his element. Two girls were draped over him, their barely-covered bodies pressed against him as they giggled and whispered things I didn't bother to catch. He had one hand wrapped around a glass, the other resting on the ass of one of the girls, occasionally slapping her with wads of cash.

"Now, this is a night out, huh?" Matteo grinned, looking over at me, his eyes already glassy from the drinks.

I just nodded, taking a sip of my whiskey. A girl with long, dark hair slid onto my lap, trying to catch my attention with a smile. Her body was warm, and she moved like she knew what she was doing, pressing herself against me, making it clear she was there for one thing.

"You don't seem like you're having fun, handsome," she purred, her lips close to my ear.

I grunted, shifting in my seat, trying to ignore the feel of her. My mind was still stuck on the shipment, on the rat, on everything that went wrong. I came here to relax, but all I could think about was how this was a waste of time. I couldn't focus on anything but what needed to be done. This was a mistake. I shouldn't have let Matteo drag me out here.

The girl must've sensed I wasn't in the mood, but she tried harder, her fingers trailing over my chest, her lips brushing against my neck. "Let me take your mind off things, baby. I can make you forget everything."

I stared at her for a moment, then sighed. "Get off me."

Her smile faltered for a second, but she tried to play it off. "Come on, don't be like that—"

"I said get off." My voice was sharp now, and she got the message, sliding off my lap and standing up. I reached into my pocket, pulling out a wad of cash, and tossed it on the table in front of her. "Here. Now get out of my sight."

She hesitated, her eyes flicking between the money and me, but she knew better than to argue. She scooped up the bills and disappeared into the crowd of girls on the main floor.

I leaned back in my seat, rubbing my temples. This was pointless. I wasn't in the mood for this crap. The flashing lights, the noise, the girls-I couldn't care less. I stood up, brushing past the other girls lingering nearby, and looked over at Matteo, who was still lost in his little world.

"We're leaving," I said.

Matteo barely looked up, too busy with his hands full of girl. "Leaving? We just got here. Come on, boss, loosen up a little. We haven't even-"

"Now," I cut him off, my voice hard.

He looked at me, his smile fading when he saw I wasn't joking. Matteo might've been having fun, but he knew better than to push me when I'd made up my mind. He sighed, pulling his hand off the girl's waist and tossing some more cash on the table.

"Alright, alright," he muttered, standing up. The girls around him pouted, but he waved them off. "Maybe next time, ladies."

As we made our way out of the VIP section, the girls tried one last time, their hands reaching for me, their voices sweet and teasing, promising things I didn't care about. I grabbed another wad of cash and threw it at them without stopping. "Take the money. We're done here."

They giggled as they snatched up the bills, but I was already heading for the exit. Matteo caught up to me, glancing over his shoulder at the scene we were leaving behind.

"Boss, you sure you wanna go? It's not even midnight yet," he said, sounding half-disappointed.

"I've had enough," I replied, pushing open the door that led to the back alley. The night air hit me like a slap to the face-cool and refreshing after the thick, suffocating atmosphere inside the club.

Matteo sighed again but didn't argue. "Alright, fine. But you gotta admit, that was a hell of a show."

I didn't answer him. I wasn't interested in whatever entertainment he'd gotten out of the night. My mind was back on the job, on the betrayal we were dealing with. We got into the car, and I leaned my head back against the seat, closing my eyes for a moment.

The drive back to the mansion was quiet. Matteo knew better than to try and fill the silence with idle conversation. He might've had fun, but I was already thinking about what needed to be done next.

This night was a mistake. I shouldn't have let him talk me into it. But there wouldn't be any more distractions now. It was time to focus. Time to find the rat.

* * * * * * *

The drive back to the mansion was silent, except for the hum of the engine and the occasional thud of the tires over bumps in the road. Matteo knew better than to try and talk, especially after I cut the night short. I stared out the window, my thoughts circling back to the problem at hand.

The rival family had been getting bold. They knew things they shouldn’t—details about my shipments, movements, and deals. It wasn’t a coincidence. Someone from the inside was leaking information. Someone close. Someone I trusted.

I clenched my jaw, my hand tightening around the armrest. I wasn’t about to let that slide. They were playing with my business, and that was personal. But first, I had to find the rat. One of my own men was feeding them, and once I figured out who, they'd regret ever crossing me. But that would take time, and right now, I needed an outlet for my anger.

We pulled up to the mansion, and the gates swung open. I didn’t waste any time as I got out of the car, the weight of my frustration heavy on my shoulders. The house was dark, quiet. Too quiet.

I was still fuming, my mind racing through every possibility, every betrayal. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got.

Eleanor.

She’d been here too long. Too comfortable for my liking. She was here to work, not lounge around like she was on some vacation. She belonged to me now. My property.

I stormed through the hallway up to the stairs, my footsteps heavy against the marble floors as I walked towards her room and pushed the door open.

Eleanor looked up, startled. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

“You’re up late,” I said coldly, walking further into the room, making sure my presence filled the space. “Comfortable, are we?”