30
Dante looked through the coordinates he had marked out, trying to focus on the plan for the attack that he had made. He wanted it to be foolproof so that he could be sure they would not be defeated. But one little thing was distracting him, making it extremely difficult for him to think.
And of course, that little thing was Kaela. He had watched her toss and turn before she finally slept last night, a look of abject misery on her face.
He had slept with the image of her tear-streaked face at the back of his eyelids. And now that image had come to haunt him just as it had for the three days he'd managed to avoid her.
He growled, slamming the laptop shut and pushing back from his seat. When did he start to feel regret for whatever actions he took,? It just did not happen—he was Dante, the mafia boss. No one questioned him, no one made him feel bad.
But for some reason, that lady had a counter effect. He couldn't go one more second knowing that she was hating herself more because of his treatment, so he grabbed his phone and dialed the number of the guard he had assigned to her for today. He answered immediately.
"Boss," the man said in a monotonous voice.
"Let Kaela come out of the room," he instructed. "She has access to the garden and the kitchen, nothing more, and you are to keep an eye on her every move."
"Okay," the man said without hesitation. "Your orders will be carried out."
Just as he ended the call, Dante pulled up the tab that displayed the security camera feeds of the estate. He zoomed in on Kaela's room and watched as the guard knocked and stepped inside.
He watched their mouths move, not bothering to enable the sound because the surprised expression on Kaela's face was enough. Then she smiled, and Dante found a similar smile forming on his lips.
He shook his head. He was being delusional, smiling because she was smiling. So he put in the extra effort to keep his expression neutral, but that didn't stop the joy he felt when she literally skipped out of her room with the man trailing behind her.
He nodded, satisfied with the outcome of his decision, and pulled up a new tab.
Back to the business of the day. He would finish solidifying his plan later. The warehouse displayed on the monitors was cold, empty, and dark—just the way he had planned it.
Today's game was simple: Jayden Cruz was the prey.
Dante had sent Jayden on what appeared to be a routine mission—a simple weapons pickup. He had even assigned a small team to accompany him to make it feel legitimate.
But halfway through the job, those men had suddenly vanished. He grinned as Jayden turned in a full circle, no doubt shocked out of his wits.
Now the real test was about to begin. Dante leaned forward, watching as the first set of shadows moved. "Let's see what you're really made of," he murmured.
\---
The warehouse smelled of oil and rust, the air thick with silence.
Jayden's gut twisted. Something was wrong. The team Dante had assigned him had just disappeared without a trace. One minute they were securing the perimeter, the next they were gone.
He tightened his grip on his pistol, the only weapon he had been assigned for this mission, forcing himself to stay calm. He was alone now, but he had been alone before.
For all he knew, the men were just around somewhere, or they might actually have run into some trouble. Before he could think of a next line of action though, the first shot rang out.
Instinct kicked in, and Jayden dove behind a stack of crates just as bullets shredded the air. He didn't come running on this mission for Dante just to get killed. What the hell was going on?
His mind raced. This was an ambush. But how?
He peeked from behind his cover. There were five armed men moving fast, and his blood ran cold. Caius's men had tracked him here.
One of them raised a gun, but Jayden wasn't about to give him the benefit of shooting first again. He fired.
His bullet caught the man in the shoulder, sending him staggering back, but it wasn't enough.
Now all four others knew where he was, and they began to run in his direction.