Chapter 5 5

I took a deep breath, attempting to calm the emotions swirling inside my chest as I gazed at the club in front of me. I felt secure, shielded by the protective shell of my car. The three men standing outside, casually smoking cigarettes along the edge of the curb, remained oblivious to my presence from this distance.

There were moments when I found it almost amusing how all the hitmen in the Boka Civente gang seemed to blend into the same mould. Men concealed behind the cold steel of their glocks, their figures shrouded in darkness that mirrored the depths of their souls.

Intuition was a complex force in my world, where hesitation didn't exist. It was a realm of absolutes-either you did or you didn't. There was no middle ground. For me, intuition was a capricious companion, at times an adversary, and at others an ally. It could either send me crashing down or elevate me to heights where I felt untouchable.

In this very moment, I sensed that my intuition might lead me to a place of danger and, as per the man I had encountered just a few hours ago, perhaps leave me lifeless and sinking into the ocean alongside my father.

I reached over and pressed the small button to open my glove compartment, grabbing one of my stress balls. These things usually helped me relax, even if just for a little while. But tonight, it wasn't doing the trick. I felt really sick, like I was so close to throwing up in my car.

I'd been feeling like this the entire drive here.

This club was only mentioned to me once or twice in my life. It was during those times when my mom cared enough and was sober enough to talk about my dad and his absence from her life. So, I quickly went online and found the address of this place.

It's an hour away from my place in the city, surrounded by other shady 'businesses' that the Boka Civente owns.

I just needed to go in there and scope the place out. No harm is done. Truthfully, I knew it was a slim chance that I'd find Shady here, but that didn't mean I couldn't get my questions answered by someone else. Call me stupid, but it wasn't just Jimmy's life on the line. I worked too damn hard just to give up.

I sat up straighter in my seat when the three men outside the club finally turned around and walked back inside, and I listened to the sound of the metal door slam shut behind them.

I popped a massive wad of bubble gum, an anxious breath escaping me as I chewed. It was an off-brand, cherry-flavored piece of gum that I found inside my cup holder, and it didn't taste the best, but I needed something to keep myself from getting lost in my thoughts.

Gathering my wits, I sent a quick prayer to the big man above, and then I exited my car. I was still dressed in my hoodie and ripped jeans from earlier, and I knew that I probably still smelled like alcohol and sweat, but that was the least of my problems. I doubt anyone in there will care. I glanced around me, suddenly feeling as though someone was watching me. When I found no one, I shut my eyes and squeezed the stress ball again.

I slowly approached the back door of the club and did a once-over of the parking lot before I pulled the door open and quickly slipped inside. This place was huge. Way bigger than William's pub, and less...crowded. There were a lot of folks here, but they all had space to branch out. The red and white lights blinded me every time I blinked, preventing me from seeing things clearly.

It smelt like sex and alcohol in here, the smell enough to make my head spin as I ran my eyes over the group of men sitting near the back.

Bad news, Beverley.

Glancing at the stairs near the bar, I had a good feeling that they probably led to private rooms. "Nice tattoo." I turned my head so fast that I almost gave myself whiplash. A fairly young-looking guy stood to the right of me and leaned up against the wall as he ran his eyes over me with an amused smirk on his face. He was tall with a sharp jaw and a strong build, and there was one small tattoo on the side of his neck.

I followed his line of sight to where my hoodie sleeves had bunched up. He was staring at my tattoo. I had only six pieces in total, and they were all equally small in size besides the one he was currently eyeing. It was a black skeleton snake that coiled itself around my wrist and travelled up, stopping just above my elbow, where the tail of the animal was. "Thanks."

I had two others on the same arm: a black widow and a butterfly. There was a stick and poke of a smiley face on the pad of my big toe too, but I wasn't sure if that counted. I also had a small saying underneath my breastbone that read, Girls don't cry.

"I never understood the meaning of tattoos. They seem pointless." The guy said this, tipping his chin towards me.

"Eh," I shrugged. "Tattoos are expressive."

He laughed. "Yeah, I guess so. Did you tattoo them on yourself, then?" No, I just designed them.

"Erm, no."

He was silent for a moment before a sinister grin took over his face. "They're dope." He paused, glancing around us. "Are you going to move away from the door anytime soon?"

"No."

At that, he laughed. It was one of those genuine, deep laughs from the gut. "I suggest that if you don't want to draw attention to yourself, move away from the door." And with that, he turned and walked away, towards a table of men playing blackjack.

I gritted my teeth together.

He was right.

Move your feet, Beverley.

I sent another prayer upstairs, and then, with one final sigh, I pushed up off the wall and moved away from the door, making my way towards the tight crowd around the bar. The music pounding was in sync with my pulse, and the tips of my fingers tingled as a sweat broke out over my body.

It happened so fast that I barely had time to register any of it. My fingers merely brushed over the top of the bar before a large hand wrapped around my small wrist and jerked me away.

"The hell?!" I shouted over the music, but the man ignored me, dragging me through the thick crowd of people like it was nothing. His hand strangled my wrist so tightly that I couldn't help but let out a painful hiss. He jerked me forward again, practically shoving people out of the way as he led me towards the back doors.

I knew, logically, that I could get free of his hold, but I didn't need to draw attention to myself by killing this man. But, fuck, he was hurting me. "Let me go!" I seethed, playing the part, trying to pull away, but to no avail. He was on a mission to remove my limb from my body.

This man was bulky and tall. All muscle and length. It was like he was a brick wall with no feelings because he acted as if he couldn't feel my nails digging into his skin. He ignored me. He didn't hesitate, not even once.

Nearing the exit, he pushed the door open with his free hand and dragged me out with the other. It was then that he finally released his grip on my arm, and as a result, I stumbled back a few feet. "I should fucking slap you." I let out an incredulous laugh. "What the hell is your problem?" I frantically rubbed at my pink wrist, trying to soothe the pain.

My glasses were fogged up, causing my vision to blur and my frustration to rise.

His face remained expressionless as he said, "Slap me, and I will step on you." The threat was there, hanging in the air above us, and I continued to stare, my expression blank and as void as the day I was born. He didn't scare me, but I didn't doubt that he could, without a doubt, squish me like a roach. "Whatever you're looking for, you won't find it here." He deadpanned.

"And I can't remember how any of that is your business?" I tilted my head, analysing him a little more closely.

"I don't have time for this shit. How about you just take my words as a warning and stop sniffing around places you have no business being?"

"How about you fuck off?" I paused and then took a look around the parking lot. When my eyes settled on him again, I said, "And look, you're still here. So I guess we both have problems following directions, yeah?"

A look crossed over his face before his lips tilted up into a smile. "You've got some balls on you for coming here." He rubbed his jaw. "You're Rizutto's girl, aren't you?"

"How the hell would you know that?" I took a cautious step away from the Eiffel Tower and narrowed my eyes. "Who even are you?"

"None of your business." His voice was light. "And it's not hard to put two and two together. I've been around for a while. I remember your father. And it seems like your brother is just like him, huh? Debt will be the end of you, Rizuttos."

"That has nothing to do with me." I murmured. "They have nothing to do with me."

"So why are you here? To pay his debt?"

"No, I don't."

"Then you shouldn't be here." He cut me off.

"But I'm here anyway, aren't I?" I said it through gritted teeth.

He raised his eyebrows, the scowl on his face softening. "What do you want?"

"I have to speak to Anthony." I said, licking my dry lips. "Or is it Shady? I'm not sure what you people call him."

"He's not here."

"Well, yes, I see that." I said it blankly.

He chuckled. "Let's say that Shady does give you a chance, which I doubt, since the fucker doesn't waste his time on shit like this. What are you going to do? You got a death wish or something?" He said the last part in Italian, pivoting around the car beside me. Then, with an annoyed sigh, he caved. "Alright, kid. I'll give him the message. Until then, I suggest you work on helping your brother get that money. Don't rely on me, because it'll get you killed."

I wasn't given the chance to respond before he turned his back to me and started walking back towards the club.

I lowered my glasses away from my face and ran my fingers across my eyelids, rubbing away the itch.

I was definitely going to die.