Cruelly Fated - Book 4

Chapter 16 - Speechless

Stefano

Hanging up the call with Mariano, my hands shake violently as I dial Paul's number. That fucker isn't getting away. "Stefano," he answers within a couple of rings.

"Make sure Patrick doesn't leave!" I bellow, unable to contain my anger.

"I'm on it!" he concurs without needing anything more from me.

Disconnecting the line, I throw my phone to the side. Tommy doesn't ask questions. Slamming his foot on the accelerator, he heads straight for the institution. The rage burning in my veins has a surge of heat rising through my chest. I fumble to remove my jacket. Every motherfucking thing is against me. Nothing I do has me a step-in front of Lim. It will cost me in the end, and I'm petrified Jaz, and my son is what I stand to lose. Patrick may well deny Lim's involvement, but I know he is behind this.

Rubbing my jaw, I let out a heated breath. Ben's club sadly became somewhat home for me. I spent a few years in that fucking shithole fighting, but I wasn't naïve. I kept my eyes open, watching, and observing. So why isn't Patrick familiar to me.

Sinking into the passenger seat, I rest my head back and scan my memories. After a fight, I had blurred vision and was slightly disorientated, but still, I remember people's faces, and Patrick isn't someone I noticed around the place. My mind drifts off to the night I foolishly trusted a stranger in my desperate attempt to gain a lifeline and purse for Jaz. I was hungry for her and willing to do anything for a taste. What stopped me was my living and financial state. I needed something to feel worthy before claiming my prize. When Capozzi approached, I dared to dream, and although it led me to Jaz in the end, I now suffer the consequences. I should've known there was more behind the deal.

I remember being dragged out by the arm, left in front of the back door. I couldn't make out the face, but I remember his words, "Help is coming. Hide behind the dumpster."

Matt swears it was him that night, and Patrick was on the lookout for Mina. Asimina's words replay, "This guy approached me, apparently to help me, but there was something about him I couldn't trust. He was looking around nervously, and he became annoyed, agitated when I declined. I tasered him."

I trust Asimina's judgment, and back then, I thought he was a mugger. Not uncommon for New York. I never imagined this was all linked. How could I? I didn't even know who I was?

The car comes to an abrupt halt, snapping me out of my thoughts. Unclipping my belt, I take a raging breath and exit the vehicle. My storming steps have me at the front of the wooden door. Tommy runs to catch up. My jaw twitches as I throw it open. The institution recruits make way for me, watching intently as my feet carry me aggressively to Patrick's room. A new heightened rage has me shaking.

Reaching his door, I erupt and kick it off the hinges as I froth, "Patrick!"

Maniacally, he jumps to his feet, eyes darting around the room. Swallowing excessively, he fails to hide his fear. Unable to form words, his eyes travel to my balling fists. "Show me how good of a fighter you are," I demand. I'm craving to connect fast and hard jabs. Watch his skin split from my brutal punches and his bones crack. Taking a step backward, I gesture him to step outside. I need space and do not want to feel constricted in the small room.

Refusing, he shakes his head, eyes dampening as he speaks barely above a whisper, "No."

"No?" I repeat. "Step outside, Patrick. It's the only fighting chance you're getting!"

Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, he lowers his head, taking fearful steps outside his room. Paul leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. "Miserable attempt to flee." He grins. "You're in a building filled with assassins. Did you really think you would get away?"