Breathless & Bloodstained (The Chicago War #4) (27 page)

“Finally,” Darryl
grumbled.

“The class ran a
little late,” Abriella explained.

She didn’t
apologize for making the enforcer wait because she didn’t give a damn. It was
his job to watch after her. It wasn’t her job to make sure everyone around her
ran on Darryl’s time.

Darryl held out
his hand, and without question, Abriella handed her bag over to him. She stayed
quiet as the enforcer pulled out the laptop she used for taking notes and then
grabbed the bag back. Joel still hadn’t given up on keeping a close eye on
everything Abriella did. Her idiot brother wouldn’t give back her phone,
either.

She had the one
from Tommas, thankfully, but there still hadn’t been an opening for her to grab
another card for it.

“We’re late, so
hurry it up,” Darryl said.

Abriella tampered
her flare of irritation. “Late for what?”

“Your brother has
a meeting.”

“What does that
have to do with me?”

“Your presence was
demanded.”

Abriella’s brow
furrowed as she took in those words. Not requested or wanted. No,
demanded
.

“What kind of
meeting?” she asked, choosing her words carefully.

“A dinner with the
Rossi asshole,” Darryl informed.

Abriella swallowed
hard. “Like a sit-down?”

“Could be. I
wouldn’t know. You made us late and I got the phone call about it last minute.”

Darryl didn’t
offer any more information before he turned on his heel and walked away.
Abriella slung her bag over her shoulder and jogged to keep up with the man.
What was he so goddamned edgy about?

It wasn’t like
Abriella was having the best fucking day.

A week after she
buried her mother, and Abriella was more restless than ever. Between checking
up on her father, trying to manage to stay out of Joel’s way, and being without
Tommas, she was barely keeping it together.

Going back to
school to resume classes had been just one of her attempts to keep herself and
emotions under control.

Abriella was
failing.

She could feel it
in her blood.

Dying inside.

Breaking apart
slowly.

Without air.

Existing.

It wasn’t long at
all before Abriella was in Darryl’s car, and they were speeding through the
city toward Trentini territory.

“Which restaurant
are they at?” Abriella asked.

“They’re not at a
restaurant. They’re at home.”

What?

Was Tommas fucking
stupid? Why would her lover think that it was okay for him to hand Joel enough
faith and trust that he could be inside the Trentini mansion for a dinner?

“Who is all
there?” Abriella asked, hoping she was being subtle.

“A couple of
people for Tommas. Joel has a couple of men. Nothing huge. It was quietly offered
by Rossi, I guess. That’s all Joel said to me. Quit fucking asking questions.
Just be quiet. I have a damned headache, and your voice doesn’t help it.”

Abriella glared at
the enforcer. “You’re not a great companion, either, asshole.”

“Yeah, well, you’re
fucking stuck with me.”

Wonderful.

Abriella rested
into the seat, watched buildings fly by, and tried her hardest to ignore the
worry beginning to compound in her chest.

What had Tommas
done?

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

“How’s the
cognac?” Joel asked.

Tommas tipped the
balloon glass in his companion’s direction as he said, “It’s been a while since
I’ve had one of Terrance’s twenty-year bottles. It’s a shame to waste good
liquor, but you know I don’t like to drink when doing business.”

“Terrance liked to
save them for special occasions.”

“How many have you
cracked open since his death?”

Joel smirked. “A
few.”

“It’s a good
drink.”

“It is.”

Tommas leaned
forward in the chair, set his glass on the corner of Joel’s desk, and rested
back again. “But like I said, I don’t drink and do business.”

Joel held up a
hand, smiling slightly. “No offence taken, old friend.”

The nut, spice,
and earthy flavors of the cognac still rested heavily on Tommas’ palate. He’d
gotten a taste of the drink, and that was more than enough. Cognac was a
particular favorite of his, and Joel likely knew it. Before Tommas would
realize it, he might have three glasses down and be working on a damn good
drunk.

That was not the
way he wanted to go tonight.

Just being inside
the Trentini mansion was enough to put Tommas on edge. This was his last resort.
He didn’t want to be there, and he certainly didn’t want to make the choice he
was going to end up making, but his options had run out.

That, and he
needed his girl.

One way or the other,
Tommas would have Abriella.

A beep echoed from
the intercom on the desk. Joel reached over, pressed the button, and said,
“Yeah?”

“Ghost is here,”
replied a gravelly voice.

Joel shot Tommas
with a questioning look.

“He’s the only man
I invited to come inside,” Tommas said quietly. “He has no idea what I’m here
to do or offer, Joel. As far as I know, he was having dinner with his wife when
I asked him to come over.”

“Let him through,”
Joel said into the intercom.

“Sure, boss.”

Tommas barely
managed to hide his external reaction to someone handing the title of boss over
to Joel Trentini without so much as a hesitation. The man was so far from a
boss that it was disgusting. A good boss—an honorable one—cared about his
family as a whole and not just his own selfish desires.

Joel worried about
no one but himself.

It didn’t matter.

Tommas pushed his
opinions aside.

He was out of
options.

Last resort
, he
reminded himself silently.

“You know,” Joel
drawled, leaning back into his office chair, “… you still haven’t told me why
you’re here, Tommas.”

“I did … in a
way.”

“You want to
settle this peacefully. That’s what you said. It doesn’t tell me much. It
certainly doesn’t tell me how you plan to do that.”

Tommas drew in a
long, deep breath. He needed the fucking strength. He needed the reminder that
he was still alive in this whole thing, and for that matter, so was Abriella.
More than anything, he wanted to keep both him and her that way for as long as
he could.

Alive.

Forever
.

Even better if
they were doing it together.

Guilt was a
terrible monster to carry. Tommas didn’t wear his well at all. From the moment
he knew that it was his plans—his call—that had put his lover’s mother into the
ground, Tommas’ guilt began to climb. With every passing day that Abriella
didn’t answer his messages, with every ignored call, he came closer and closer
to giving up.

He was out of
plans.

Joel had won.

Tommas still had
one more card to play.

God forgive him,
but he hoped Abriella didn’t hate him for it.

“I should begin by
apologizing for your mother,” Tommas said quietly.

Joel glanced up
from the cognac he was swirling inside a glass. “Don’t bother.”

“It’s only right
that I do.”

“If I cared for
the woman, then the apology would mean something. Since I don’t care, it means
nothing. I don’t need or want it, Tommas. Don’t bother.”

Tommas wasn’t
surprised.

Joel wasn’t the
person Tommas wanted to apologize to, anyway. Abriella needed to hear Tommas’
apology, and if she was willing to forgive his mistakes, then maybe his choices
today would be a little easier for her to swallow.

Damn.

Maybe she would
even … understand.

Another beep
echoed through the intercom.

Sighing, Joel hit
the button again. “What now?”

“Your sister and
her enforcer have just arrived, and Ghost is being let into the foyer.”

“Wonderful.” Joel
turned off the intercom. “Seems like everyone that you wanted is here.”

“Seems so,” Tommas
agreed.

“Let’s get
started.”

“Find a spot to
sit,” Joel said, waving a hand toward the long dining table. “The cook will be
serving supper in a few.”

“A little heads-up
about this would have been nice,” Darryl said.

Tommas ignored the
enforcer as he pulled out a chair to sit in. Under his lashes, he sneaked a
peek at a confused, quiet Abriella. She twisted her hands together and glanced
between her brother and Tommas subtly. No one else would have noticed her quick
look, but he did.

He noticed
everything about her.

“I agree,” Damian
said gruffly.

Tommas shot his
cousin a look, silencing him. “Sit, D.”

Scowling, Damian
strolled past a statue-like Abriella to grab a chair. Once his cousin was
seated, Tommas felt a little bit of his anxiety begin to drift away. While he
fully suspected that this dinner-slash-meeting would go off without any issues,
it helped to have a backup.

Damian was a good
backup.

No matter what,
the man would make sure Tommas got out of the Trentini mansion alive. Damian
didn’t even need to know what he was there to do, but he would make sure his
cousin was safe. That’s just how their lives worked.

As kids they
looked out for each other.

As adults, that
hadn’t changed.

“Abriella,” Joel
snapped.

Abriella’s head
popped up fast. “Yeah?”

“Are you going to
stand there all goddamn day looking like an idiot, or are you going to sit down
like you were told to do?”

“Sorry.”

Abriella quickly
found a chair to sit it. It happened to be the one directly across from Tommas.
Now, he could watch her throughout the dinner, gage her emotions and reactions
to what was about to happen, and go from there.

Her being closer
was better.

She’d been too far
away for too long.

“Thank you,” Joel
said, his tone oozing with sarcasm.

Tommas’ jaw
clenched, his only show of irritation. He had all he could do not to snap at
Joel, never mind beating back his annoyance. How the man could outright
disrespect his sister like he did, without even a care for her feelings, was
beyond Tommas’ understanding.

Abriella deserved
people in her life who loved and adored her. Those who would care for her,
treat her with kindness and respect.

That wasn’t Joel.

It couldn’t be
anyone but Tommas.

“I have men
outside,” Joel said, drawing Tommas from his thoughts.

“I’m aware.”

“How many did you
bring along?”

“A couple,” Tommas
admitted.

“Peaceful, right?”

“Absolutely,
Joel.”

Joel nodded. “Okay
then.”

Ten painfully
awkward and silent minutes later, food was brought into the dining room. The
cook served each person with a smile. She accepted Tommas’ thank you with a
gracious pat on his shoulder. Once the woman was gone, utensils scraped to
plates as napkins were flicked over laps.

“I have an offer,”
Tommas said.

Joel was just
beginning to cut into his steak. “Go on.”

“I want to end
this. All of it.”

“I’m willing to do
that for the right price,” Joel said simply.

Tommas knew what
the price was.

The boss’s seat.

Glancing at his
lover across the table, Tommas noted Abriella wasn’t touching her food. She had
her hands in her lap, and her stare stayed stuck firmly on the same place. He
could tell by the thin set of her lips and the tightness in her jaw that she was
unsettled and confused.

He didn’t blame
her.

Tommas wished he
could soothe her worries.

All for you, Ella
, his
mind whispered.
All for you.

Forcing himself to
look away from Abriella was harder than Tommas expected. He pushed the potatoes
around on his plate, trying to settle the way his thoughts and heart warred.
His head wanted one thing while his heart wanted another.

He wasn’t sure
which was right.

“I’m waiting,”
Joel said.

Tommas cleared his
throat, needing to get back into the right mindset for the dinner. “Sorry, I’m
distracted lately. It’s been a difficult couple of weeks.”

“Oh?”

Damian passed his
cousin a curious look, asking a million questions without even saying a word.
Tommas didn’t have a single answer for his cousin.

“Yes,” Tommas said
to Joel, smiling slightly. “But nothing I can’t handle.”

“I’m waiting to
hear your offer,” Joel replied.

Was it the right
one?

Tommas didn’t
know.

“You can take it,”
Tommas said quietly. “The boss’s seat, the Outfit, and the claim. Take it,
Joel. I don’t want to fight for it anymore. I’m done.”

Abriella’s head
snapped up at Tommas’ statement. Her blue eyes burned into his, a disbelief and
anger darkening her irises.

No
.

He could
practically hear her screaming it inside her head.

No. No.
No
.

Tommas gave his
girl a lopsided smirk, wanting to reassure her that everything was perfectly
fine. To anyone else, it probably seemed like an afterthought to his statement
about giving Joel the seat. Abriella would know better.

He hoped so,
anyway.

“Tommas?” Damian
said, two seats away from Abriella.

Tommas met his
cousin’s gaze. “This is the best choice, D.”

Damian didn’t look
like he believed that at all. “Are you—”

“Before you ask,
yes, I am sure.”

“Okay,” Damian
murmured.

“I like that
offer,” Joel finally said, approval thickening his voice. “However, offers
usually come with a clause, Tommas. What it is that you want in all of this?”