"The fuck?" he yelled, and though I couldn't see him, I could just imagine the look of panic on his face. It almost made me feel guilty, knowing how angry Enzo would be with him. "Where'd she fucking go?"
"I didn't see her go anywhere," the woman said. Crawling to peek around the edge of the bar, I watched as he hurried off toward the kitchens and the back entrance. Standing quickly, I pushed open the little door to the bar and strolled for the front. Rebel followed me as the woman gaped but made no move to stop me. Flashing her a one-finger salute and a bitchy smile, I shoved open the front doors and strolled out onto the sidewalk, leaving the club in my wake.
I didn't stand a chance of staying out of Enzo's grasp for long, but the fresh air filling my lungs couldn't be denied. Clarity filled my head with a sense of independence and recklessness as I reveled in my newfound freedom.
Sometimes opportunity knocked.
I'd always answer the door.
16 Enzo
I studied the wall with the list of names and assignments, considering who I could give to Aoife once Tiernan was informed of the end to their engagement. We needed more men. There was no way around that.
Knowing the date of the sit down would have been helpful, but I wondered if it would be another scenario where Matteo informed me at the last minute. His sudden impulses were his natural defense against threats, making him unpredictable at best. It was great to some extent. Just not for me trying to coordinate his security.
Seb cleared his throat where he lurked in my open office door. "Yeah?"
"Rafael Ibarra and Calix Regas are here—" His voice cut off as the two assholes shouldered their way into my office. Two other men lurked in the hall, and I had to assume they were their personal security.
"The polite thing to do is wait for me to invite you in," I said, but a grin I couldn’t contain made my lips twitch. I'd met Calix several times in my years since coming to work for Matteo, but Rafael was another story. The Spanish man's striking multicolored gaze met mine as a dark smile played at his lips. One green eye and one blue. His eyes made me blink my own, somehow showing darkness even through the light tones.
"Enzo," he greeted, holding out a hand for me to shake. I'd never learned the details of how he knew Matteo, beyond the basics that they were allies and as close to friends as men of their caliber could be outside their families. Rafe was not a man I ever wanted to be on the bad side of.
Placing my hand in his, I shook with a polite smile. "Can I get you anything?"
"What about me?" Calix grinned, moving to the whiskey on my desk and helping himself to a drink. "Fuck I forgot what a bitch that flight is."
"You're early," I pointed out.
"Ah well, you know how it goes. My timeline has moved up. I need Matteo's war to finish so he can help me with mine," Calix said, not showing the slightest bit of remorse that he shrugged off potential loss of life so casually. Calix may not be the head of his family, hell, he'd been sent away from his own city for safekeeping after his father poked the wrong rival too hard.
But he'd take back what was his. All of it.
"They set a date?" I asked.
He nodded grimly, his nostrils flaring as he sipped the whiskey and set the glass down sharply. His suit was crinkled, disheveled, as if he hadn’t been able to keep still on his journey to Chicago. I wouldn't have understood only a few days ago, but now I understood very well. The thought of Sadie engaged to another man, even an arranged marriage to a man she neither wanted nor loved, well, I'd be ready to tear him limb from limb.
Even if he hadn't seen her since she'd been a child.
Rafe nodded, glancing at the man who he'd trained and harbored in his territory while he waited out his time. Made alliances. Built up his own ranks. "We have less time than we anticipated."
"Your father will still lend his support for both of our wars? What does he expect in return?" I asked Rafe as I sat. His olive skin gleamed as his lips split into a blinding grin, and he and Calix exchanged a knowing glance.
"Matteo did not tell you? My father passed years ago. I am the Ibarra legacy now." Rafael's unusual stare dared me to ask the question. The last I'd known, Miguel Ibarra had been alive and well. Healthy.
"Was he sick?" I asked, my throat working to swallow around the bile that crept up at the dark look in his bright eyes as he studied me in amusement.
"Did Matteo ever tell you the story of how my mother died?" Rafe asked, instead of answering. Unlike Calix's suit, his was perfectly pressed and fitted to him like a second skin. He strolled around the office and eyed the names on the wall. "My father belonged in the Spanish Inquisition. He was, for lack of a better word, insane with his beliefs. His marriage to my mother was arranged, but he hated her because he thought her light eyes a trait of her witchcraft," Rafe scoffed. "So naturally, he had her burned at the stake once she stopped being useful, and he determined her to be barren after she never gave him another child after me."
"Christ," I muttered, scrubbing
