Page 23 of High Stakes
“Leone,” Milo cuts in, undoing the cuff. “Maybe she can come with us. She’ll stay in the car with Rocco.”
Leone doesn’t look pleased, and for a moment, I’m convinced he’ll drag me to the basement himself. But then he hesitates, locking eyes with me, searching for any sign of rebellion. Finally, he relents with a nod.
“Fine. But you stay in the car. Understand?”
I nod eagerly, grateful for any escape from the basement.
“Get dressed!” Leone snaps, and I rush to the closet. To my surprise, he didn’t throw out the clothes he got for me. Did he plan on locking me down there forever?
Minutes later, I’m loaded into the car beside Rocco, with Leone in the driver’s seat and Milo up front.
The seat feels harder than stone as I grip its edge, trying to calm my nerves. The dark streets blur past, shadows swallowing the city as we race toward the warehouse. Milo sits quietly, checking his phone as updates come in.
“Sloan should meet us there. He says the wound is superficial,” Milo tells Leone. “How far out is Dante?”
“An hour. He’s coming from my father’s place. Had to deal with the diversions,” Leone replies. Milo nods, pulling a gun from inside his jacket and checking it with practiced ease. His calmness is jarring next to the panic brewing inside me.
“Did Sloan say anything about who it might be?” Leone asks.
“No reply since the last message,” Milo says, glancing at his phone. The tension in the car thickens. Leone’s eyes flicker to me in the rearview mirror, then back to the road.
“Fuck, we should’ve left her behind,” Leone mutters. I tense, half expecting him to turn the car around and throw me back into the basement.
“Too late now,” Milo replies. “We go back, Sloan could be dead by the time we get there.”
Leone exhales sharply but says nothing. Rocco remains quiet beside me, alert but calm as he listens.
As we pull up to the shadowy warehouse, I peer out the window, the looming structure even more foreboding in the dark. Tension coils in my stomach, and I can’t keep the question from escaping.
“Shouldn’t the police be swarming this place?” I ask, glancing between Milo and Leone.
Milo turns, a wry smile barely touching his lips. “Dante caused a distraction at the docks. It’ll keep them occupied for a few hours.” His voice is calm, as if orchestrating chaos and manipulating city resources were just another part of his day.
I frown. “What happened at the docks?”
Leone meets my gaze in the mirror before returning to the road. “A few fires, some well-timed explosions. Enough to make sure every available unit is tied up there, not patrolling here.”
“The police are busy containing the damage and figuring out if it’s an accident,” Milo adds, his tone apologetic. “Gives us time to handle our business.”
I sink into the seat, the reality of their words settling in. The lengths they’d go to... it’s both impressive and terrifying.
“And if they finish early?”
Leone’s eyes meet mine in the mirror again, hard and unyielding. “Then we deal with it. We’re always two steps ahead, Fallon. Always.”
Milo nods, a grim determination settling over him. “Trust us. We’ve done this more times than you can imagine. Tonight’s no different.”
As the car rolls to a stop, I brace myself, gripping the door handle. The weight of their world presses down on me, relentless and inescapable.
Leone’s voice cuts through the tension as he opens his door. “Stay in the car with Rocco. We shouldn’t be long.” He looks at Rocco, who nods.
“Wait here,” Rocco warns, his voice serious.
I nod, swallowing hard, my ears straining to catch their conversation as they head toward the warehouse. But the words are muffled, adding to my rising anxiety.
“Something’s off…” Leone mutters, his voice low and tense.
“Maybe he’s inside,” Milo suggests, though his tone suggests he doesn’t believe it.
