REDEMPTION | MAFIA ROMANCE | SMUT

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Liam

Armed men carried Alexa's boxed belongings into the penthouse while her friend and roommate prepared coffee in the kitchen. Kathy had followed Chloe down the street, beaten her to a pulp, and left her unconscious on the ground before confronting her younger sister. Angry-looking abrasions marred the girl's pale cheeks. Her tired eyes are grotesquely swollen. Deep lacerations pained her purple-tinted lips. Her sore, beaten face necessitated medical attention to hinder infection. Even extracting uncombersome milk from the fridge was too arduous. Her exhausted limbs were limp and wilted.

Everything moved around me, yet I lingered in the juxtaposition of variegated guest rooms, wondering if I had lost my mind. I had invited two wretched women into my private home. Alexa being here unperturbed me. Chloe was a different story, though. I appreciate that she is Alexa's friend, but I did not know her. As far as I am concerned, she is untrustworthy until further notice. I had to be on guard and vigilant while Chloe roamed the place freely. In all fairness, I stored smuggled contraband and illegal firearms in the penthouse, not to mention the undeclared cash concealed in secret storage.

Nate perceived Chloe's difficulty. He unzipped the black holdall, snapped on a pair of latex gloves and arranged medical equipment onto the granite counter.

While Nate tended to Chloe's injuries, I brushed past the assemblage of men in the hallway, dodging scattered boxes on the floor, and selected the bedroom furthest away from the west wing. I can tolerate her residency if there is a generous distance between her room and master bedroom.

"No," I said calmly, and the man unpackaging her suitcase peered up. "Do not go through a woman's personal possessions. Did your mother teach you nothing?"

Brad snorted, stepping into the bedroom. "Mothers are bastard useless."

"Indeed." My hands thrust into my trouser pockets. "Light humour. You may proceed."

The young man stared wordlessly at me.

"A mere wisecrack," Brad explained on my behalf. "It's called a joke, prick. Unpack her shit and get out."

Fumbling with the box, he emptied clothes onto the king-size bed and folded them into neat piles ready for the drawer.

Brad guzzled Jameson straight from the bottle. "Where is Alexa?"

Alexa was dead to the world when I last checked. I had carried her unconscious body to the master bedroom until the sedative injection dematerialised. Putting her to sleep was the best option. Her hyperventilation caused breathlessness. Anguish spiralled into a disturbed psychological state. Tears bled from her devastated eyes. If she could have prevented Kathy's death, she'd have thrown herself into the firing line and taken the bullet.

Alexa was unprepared for my arrival. After listening to her voice message and receiving the news regarding her unidentified attacker this morning, how could I not swing by? Of course, when I entered the flat and saw Kathy with her hands wrapped around her sister's throat, the scene had taken me aback. Pearl was the last person I thought I'd see tonight. I am not sorry nor regretful for the point-blank shot to the back of her head. The bitch had deserved a merciless killing for double-crossing the syndicate, for emptying the safe, for her endless list of deceptions and mocking every ounce of generosity I bestowed. Her death was inevitable. Yet, I killed her for an entirely different reason: to protect the younger Haines sister, Alexa.

I accepted the bottle of Jameson. "Asleep."

"You need to find out what happened. First, some guy chased Alexa in the street and then Kathy rocked up to what? Pick up where he left off? What is the connection between premeditated attacks? Something fucking stinks, and I don't like it. Either Kathy attempted to kill Alexa twice, or there is another threat."