Shattered Dreams (Boys of Bellerose, #3)(85)



The leader, I assumed, gave a chuckle. “I’m on a diet anyway. Keto. No carbs, you know?” His voice was heavily accented… maybe German? “We’ll let you get back to your dinner shortly, Ricci. We just came to get something from you.”

Angelo kept his hand on my hip, holding me behind him. “If you’re looking for the shipment of drugs, they’re long gone. To your people, if I’m not mistaken… Nikolas. And there’s nothing else.”

The guy laughed again. “To my people? No, no, no. We hit the convoy as discussed, yes, but the drugs and money weren’t there.”

What?!

“We don’t have them,” Angelo snapped.

“I know,” Nikolas said with a nod. “Your wife does, though. Or she did, before making a trade with the Albanians for a crate of weapons. She’s got big plans, pretty little Valentina, doesn’t she?”

My ass just about fell out of my body. Valentina screwed us over.

“So if you know she has them, why are you here?” Angelo’s grip on my hip was so tight it hurt, but I wasn’t complaining. Holy fuck. How could she do that to us? Had it all been a ruse from the beginning?

Nikolas shrugged. “Your wife is making bold moves to become a powerful player,” he commented, tilting his head to smirk at me cowering behind Angelo. “So we thought, what better way to secure the favor of a new boss… than to offer her a welcome gift? Say… the head of the woman fucking her husband?”

Oh shit.

“Come on, then, we don’t have all night. Hand over your whore, and we’ll leave you to your dinner.” He sniffed and hummed in approval. “Smells delicious, by the way.”

Everything happened at once. Determination etched across Jace’s face, fear and anger on Rhett’s, but cold murder filled Grayson’s eyes—all just a split second before they made a desperate move. And I suddenly, with a staggering jolt of clarity and disbelief, remembered why the masked man, the back-up goon who had a gun to Rhett’s head, looked so familiar.

But that wasn’t possible. My dad was dead.

Multiple shots fired, and my whole world stopped.

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