Shattered Dynasty by Ava Harrison
43
Trent
We have been livingin a happy bubble for the last three weeks.
Payton’s foot is healed, as is her rib.
She was damn lucky.
I’m even luckier.
Having her here has been the best time of my life.
I have to put a damper on it, though. I need to ask her a question I don’t want to ask.
She once made a comment about all the things that happened to her, and I need to know exactly what they were because today, we take Paul.
Payton is watching me. What she sees makes her brows furrow.
“What’s got you so stressed?” she asks.
I continue to stare at her, hating to disrupt the peace we have cocooned ourselves in. “I have something to ask you.”
“Okay.” Her voice is low, belying her concern about what I’m going to ask.
Maybe, like me, she doesn’t want the real world brought into my room.
“You mentioned I was stalking you . . .”
Her eyes go wide at my words.
I gauge her reaction before continuing, “Why did you say that?”
“I don’t want to talk about before. We’re good now.” She goes to move away from me, but I place my hand over her stomach.
“Stop, Payton.” I take her hand, hoping it gives her the strength she needs. “I need to know. This is important.”
She frowns, then huffs. “My stuff.”
I shake my head. “Not following.”
“In my house. Before you took everything . . .” Her hands tremble in mine. I squeeze them, encouraging her to continue, and she does. “I thought someone was in the house. Going through my stuff.”
My teeth clench. The idea of anyone harming or stalking her puts me on edge. I’m not dumb. I know I have a role in her hiding it from me. She probably thought it was me and didn’t want to show her fear.
You’re a fucking asshole, Trent.
I school my features. I need to know everything, and if I lose it, on myself and the stalker, she won’t tell me any more.
“Go on, please,” I say softly.
“My computer was opened. I know I left it closed. It was on purpose. I didn’t want to drain the battery, it was dying, and I couldn’t find my charger. I went to search for it in my car, but when I came back fifteen minutes later, I saw someone I knew from class and got to talking.” Her free hand palms her face before dropping. “When I finally walked back into the house, the computer was open. A decoration was misplaced. My computer bag was open, too, but my wallet wasn’t missing, so I thought I was being overdramatic.”
“Was anything used?”
“No, that was the weird part.”
“What else?”
“I always felt eyes on me.” She clears her throat. “Then there was the time I found the metal tracker you left in my bag.”
I pull my hand from hers, rearing back a bit.
What. The. Hell.
“What?” She shrugs, looking away.
I reach my hand out, touch her jaw, and make her look at me. “Payton, I never left a tracker in your bag.”
“Then how . . . ?”
Her mouth drops open, and her eyes go wide.
“Did anyone ever have access to your place?” I ask, more urgent this time.
She’s been in danger this whole time.
Her nose scrunches. “No.”
“Did anyone ever bump into you, maybe—”
She gasps, snapping her fingers. “Yes. It was that time I fell by your apartment. That man.”
It wasn’t an accident.
Payton starts to chew her lip, nervously. She’s come to the same conclusion. He bumped into her to drop the tracker.
“Did you see the man’s face?” I stare into her eyes, studying her. “Would you recognize him if you saw him again?”
She shakes her head, frowning. “No.”
I grab her hands and bring them up to my lips. “I have to go, but I promise I’ll be back soon. I have to go take care of something.”
A man I must kill.
“Can I come with you?”
“No.” I stand and press a kiss to the crown of her head. “I can’t have anything happen to you, princess.”
It doesn’t take longto pull up the address of Lorenzo’s warehouse.
It’s located on the dock.
Cliché as fuck.
But since he now runs the mafia, I’m not sure what else I should have expected.
As I pull up, it doesn’t look like anyone is inside. It appears to be abandoned.
But I imagine this is exactly the idea Lorenzo is going for, and since I know Lorenzo, I also know there are snipers on the roof. He doesn’t fuck around. Not when it comes to the safety of him and his men.
I’m not involved in this part of the business.
The guys gave me a way out. They texted, saying they could do this without me. That it’s nothing they haven’t done before.
In the past, I probably would have agreed to that offer. But after what happened to Ivy and now Payton, hell yeah, I’m all in.
I make fantastic money, and this violence comes with the territory. It’s why I pay a shit ton for my security system and the security team Jax recommended. But despite all of that, I’m not okay with any of the women in my life involved with this shit.
I trust Cyrus to take care of Ivy and even my mother.
But Payton? She’s mine to care for.
And I failed.
It won’t happen again.
Ever.
Throwing my car in park, I step outside. It’s cold and dark out. The perfect setting for what we’re doing. I stroll up to the building. The door is shut, but I know before I turn the handle that it’ll unlock for me.
Someone is always watching the cameras hidden around the property. Lorenzo is too careful not to take every precaution. Dozens of his men guard the building in addition to the technological security measures, probably put in place by Jax.
So, I’m not too worried about our safety as I swing the door open and walk inside. It slams shut behind me, and I find it exactly how I thought it would be.
Unlocked and heavy as shit.
I can only imagine this warehouse stores Tobias’s drugs, and now it holds one more thing.
Our enemy.
I’m taken aback by what I see when I walk farther into the warehouse. But then I straighten my back and let the bile settle.
It seems the men were already having a bit of fun before I arrived.
Paul is naked, other than welts and bruises.
His arms are locked behind his back and tied behind the chair. He took a beating before I came. Blood is caked all over his body, some fresh and some dried. It looks like a combination of fists and knives. Then cuts meant to extend his torture as long as possible.
Cliché again, but I guess this is what happens in the underworld.
I would have settled for blackmail.
Nudity?
Not my cup of tea, unless it’s Payton, and we’re both about to reach an orgasm or ten . . .
But I’m sure it’s needed here.
Lorenzo doesn’t do anything without a reason.
Entertainment is a reason.
He’s a sick bastard like that.
But this time, there’s a reason for his cruelty.
I think they’re searching for a tracking device on Paul’s body because the cuts are strategically placed and only deep enough to find the type of devices he’s known for using—close to the surface. A small metal rod implant, as Jax mentioned in the meeting leading up to today.
Paul must hear me because as I stride closer, out of the shadows, my footsteps echoing around us, he lifts his head.
Can he even see me?
His eyes are swollen and basically glued together with blood.
I walk over to where Lorenzo is standing.
“What did you find out?”
“Nothing yet, but you’re here just in time.” He flashes a sinister grin. “The fun is about to start.”
Paul’s trying to appear strong, but he’s not fooling anyone.
Not with the way his hands shake beneath the rope that ties him to the chair.
He’s fucked, and he knows it.
He’s a dead man.
No matter what he says, Lorenzo will kill him.
How painful will it be? Well, that’s yet to be decided. I’m sure if he cooperates, maybe (and that’s a big maybe) Lorenzo will take mercy on him and give him a quick and painless death.
Doubt it.
I nod to Lorenzo to begin, and then I move to get closer.
When I’m standing directly in front of him, I look down at his mangled, bloody body. “You can make this easy or hard. Your choice.”
“Fuck you, pretty boy,” he responds.
He spits out blood, barely missing my shoe.
“Very well. Hard it is.” I nod again, and this time, Lorenzo steps beside me with a cleaver.
“For every question you don’t answer, you lose a finger,” he says casually as if he’s talking about what he plans on eating later.
Paul spits toward us again. He’s so weak right now, he misses for a second time. The blood and saliva hit the floor.
“Did you try to kill Payton?” I ask. Hard. Tense. Waiting for his answer.
When he doesn’t give one, the cleaver is lifted.
The instinctual urge to turn away and let Lorenzo handle this grips me, but I don’t. In the corner of the room, Matteo, Tobias, and Cyrus stand. They are here for support, but this is my girl.
My plan.
My revenge.
I need to go all the way.
With a quick look to me for confirmation, Lorenzo steps up. He’s ready. The cleaver raises right over Paul’s hand.
“You may want to hold the finger out,” Lorenzo drawls. “I can’t promise I won’t chop off more otherwise.”
Within a second, a bloodcurdling scream rings through the air. Blood splatters everywhere. I look down.
Paul chose the middle finger.
“Did you hire someone to stalk Payton?” I ask.
Again, he doesn’t answer.
“Guess he loses another one,” Lorenzo says, and my friends laugh. It is loud and raucous. Borderline obnoxious.
The sound echoes across the warehouse. It sounds like there are more than us here. Like a viewing room to Paul’s pain.
“Tell us what we want to know,” I press.
“Maybe you should ask better questions,” he spits back.
“Or maybe we should try better forms of torture.” Lorenzo walks over to the pliers on the table, and I know he’s about to rip Paul’s fingernails out one by one.
Then after, he’ll probably cut his fingers off.
Fuck.
I should never get on Lorenzo’s bad side.
I widen my stance, crossing my arms. “Just tell us what we want to know.”
“I didn’t try to kill your bitch,” Paul snaps with a dry laugh. “That would have been too easy.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I kick his chair, stepping on the bottom leg to straighten it just before he starts to fall.
He shakes his head. “I know all about your girl, but I wasn’t the one to run her stupid ass over.”
I walk over to the table and reach for the gun. I’m sick of this shit.
“Talk.” I check the chamber and cartridge for bullets, finding them exactly where I need them. “Tell me what you know about Payton’s accident.”
“Running her over isn’t my style. What I had planned for your whore after what you did was way worse.”
I’m not much for violence, but this asshole . . . He deserves the worst hell can deliver. I can’t help it as I reach out and smack the fucker in the face with the butt of the gun. His head rears back from the impact.
“Yeah, big guy, what plan is that—”
“I would have used the goods, hard, before selling her sorry ass to the highest bidder.” He grins despite the blood staining his teeth.
I act, moving back toward where he’s tethered and punch him. My fist connects with his face. A loud crunch is followed by a rush of blood as I break his nose.
Turning to Lorenzo, I look at him for what he thinks. I might not know Paul, but it doesn’t add up. He’s quick to tell us what he wanted to do, proud even, so why won’t he admit to running her over?
It doesn’t make sense.
It isn’t him.
Yeah, he still needs to die for even thinking about hurting Payton. But maybe he’s not the person we’re looking for.
I nod at Lorenzo.
He knows what he has to do.
Without another word to Paul, I walk out of the warehouse and toward my car.
I don’t need to see him die.
He was planning on torturing Payton.
I’ll sleep just fine tonight, knowing I helped rid the world of that man.
Knowing I helped keep my girl safe.