Chapter 402
He is gifted at reading people in situations like this, and I can tell he is relaxing by the second with what faces him. A fly on his windscreen and easy to squish. I relax too, a little reassured this will not be the bloodfest I envisioned and lean towards him to feel his body heat through my dress, to slow my racing heart and find that much-needed security of being near him.
"So, what do you bring to the table, aside from murdering women and children?" Alexi cuts through all the bullshit of this play nice conversation and she fixes her attention on him with a sly little look.
Oh, I swear to God. Shoot her Alexi. Right in the face, in fact, do it somewhere that makes her die slowly so I can take the time to stick the bird at her and watch her squirm in agony.
I haven't hated anyone this much in a long time but damn, I fucking hate this cow. Her attitude when she doesn't even know him. I wriggle in my seat as volcanic temper simmers inside me and try so hard to be as still and panther-like as he is. All that perfect cool control he has is breathtaking. He just fixes her with that deadpan look that used to drive me nuts.
"You'll have to try harder than that if you want to get a rise out of me. Your manipulation skills leave a lot to be desired. I guess age is not always an indicator of skills or competence, old lady." Alexi, smooth and smug, sweeps in and shuts her down with a controlled tone, a putdown and a laid-back manoeuvre; he casually lounges in his chair, so he looks bored as hell with minimum effort. The man who stood in my hospital room and scared the bejesus out of me is here in all his glory, owning this scenario, manipulating it subtly. She just shrugs, trying to deliver the same level of iciness, but cannot hide the way her hand trembles as she reaches for water to moisten her dry throat. Annoyed that he just rebuffed her cattiness effortlessly and made her look foolish.
I already know Alexi would never sate his thirst and show a hint of weakness or fear. A dry throat definitely signals apprehension and nerves. Amateur move girly, even I know that.
"If I had anything to worry about, I would be dead already. It's obvious things have slipped since my father's day." She smiles bitchily, a wobble in her voice and I guess his manner is unnerving her. That icy, penetrating gaze that pierces your soul as he pulls you apart, and does so in such stealth stillness, it freaks everyone out.
He truly is the King when it comes to this stuff.
"Cute." He just smiles devilishly and seems wholly amused at her attempts to better him. Marianne takes another drink, lifts a brow to signal she isn't affected, but her body language is dissolving and it's obvious she is starting to waiver. I think she expected an easier negotiation and straight down to business, as her ballsy attitude has a shelf life. It was all a front in a bid to appear in control until the real man of the hour swept in and showed her how a boss acts. No one can prepare you for a showdown with Alexi and it's obvious she wasn't expecting the thirteen-year-old kid she remembers to be this predator before her.
Good looks, impeccable DNA and a sexy wardrobe throw you off a little at first, but five seconds talking to his demon side and you know your number's up. He wears intimidation like a cloak and its aura is strong.
Alexi's lap lights up under the table and draws my eye. I realise he has his cell phone sitting just out of sight and he glances down so subtly it's practically unnoticed. I side squint at his face unsure what his message says but I catch Santagato throwing him a sideways glance too before he looks down to where his hand is under the table. I guess he has texted him.
The hackles on my neck rise as, out of the corner of my eye, I notice Mico is throwing some shady looks to the man on his left after he looks at his own phone, and the overwhelming sense of foreboding hits me hard. Tiny hints and signals from Alexi's men that most would miss but I know their language from watching them protect the club. Something is stirring.
The one Mico is eyeing up I don't recognise, and a strange atmosphere seems to emanate from Alexi almost instantly. Something changing in the surrounding air.
"Is that all you have to say? You're awfully quiet, are you trying to scramble a comeback?" Smug bitch raises a brow, and I really want to throw my glass at her.
"Not at all. Just a bad cell phone reception day." Alexi jokes and she looks confused at that response. As am I. I turn to him questioningly as he sits up a little straighter, places his phone on the table in front of him carefully, and locks eyes on her menacingly.
"Just awaiting a signal ... much like this one," Alexi smirks, nods in a hardly noticeable way that would look like nothing to anyone else, and suddenly everything erupts. One tilt of his chin and men leap into instant action.
In the blink of an eye, the men on either side of her are yanked backwards violently, by the men in suits behind that I thought were with her. Clear plastic bags pulled over their heads and zip tied around their throats in the most grotesque, frightening fashion; so fast it's like a dance that has been rehearsed to precision, stealthily done. It's speedy and efficient, and she lets out a scream as the man behind her grabs her wrists and pins her to the table in a full body hold that disables her from helping her men.
I literally recoil in panic, nearly swallowing my tongue as my heart rips out of my chest and I'm hit with a cold wave of fear.
The other men at the table react in many ways. Some gasp and lurch back in their chairs, shocked, some sit steadfast, unfazed by this brutal scene, but it's Santagato and Alexi who draw my eye as the fear and panic course through me, strangling me into frozen terror. My heart almost self-combusting, it's hammering so fast, but I hold firm like I told him I would. Unable to do anything else.
Keep your shit together, breathe.
They nod at each other, a clear signal of partnered planning as two men in front of my eyes suffocate to death slowly in the most terrifying and traumatising few minutes. Bodies twitching and writhing while being held still by muscular men with zero expression. The wide-eyed terror and gasping, godawful sounds as the bags deflate, fog up and cling to their faces, sucking into the cavernous space made by gaping mouths and the whole table shudders with the kicks of their feet trying to get them loose.
I swallow instant tears, choke on panic and cling to the table until my knuckles turn white. Labouring breaths as I try to keep my head together. It's excruciating to watch and nothing at all like in the movies.
My skin pales all over as life and blood drains away, yet I'm rooted to the spot watching this horrific scene, knowing instinctively I shouldn't show any weakness to what I'm witnessing.