Scorned Obsession (Scorned Fate)

“You’ve messed with me for the last time!” I raged, tackling Griselda to the floor, straddling her body, and smacked her across the face. She covered her head with her forearms, and I was frustrated I couldn’t scratch her eyes out.

Everyone had their breaking point. Griselda had flicked my crazy switch.

“Someone get this bitch off me!” Griselda screamed.

“Not so tough now, huh?” I clawed at her arms. There was no excusing her harmful manipulations. “You let other people do your dirty work. Well, I’m not afraid to do mine.” Bits of Gold Tooth’s blood and brain rained on her.

Fingers gripped my shoulders to pull me away. “Bianca…”

It sounded like Sticks, but I was still caught up in the maelstrom of my fury. I felt violated when Gold Tooth grabbed my arm and hauled me away. When unwanted fingers tried to undress me, expose me. If Sandro hadn’t arrived in time, I would be scarred for life and there would be three more bodies in the study because that would have been Sandro’s breaking point. The doc, Raffa, and Griselda would be dead. She should’ve been thankful she was alive.

“Get your fucking hands off her,” Sandro boomed. “This is long overdue.”

“Sandro,” Griselda cried. “How could you…”

“He could because I’m his wife,” I snarled. “And his loyalty is to me.” I got off her and yanked her up by her hair. “Get that through your damned head, Griselda!” With a fistful of her hair, I dragged her out of the study the way Raffa’s men had dragged me earlier. She tried to fight me, but my fury was greater than her spite and I was livid beyond rational thought.

I stalked across the foyer with her shrieking behind me. Most of Sandro’s men stood by as we passed them.

“Help me!” Griselda scraped my arm with her nails to dislodge my grip, but she knew if she fought too hard, she’d end up with a bald spot. We reached the open door and I jerked her through. That was when I released her. I was panting hard. All the heat seemed to have gone to my head. She swiped at her face and stumbled down the steps.

“You’re a lunatic,” she croaked out. She was sobbing, her face blotchy and mascara smudged around her eyes.

“Bitch,” I shot back. “You haven’t seen lunatic yet. They don’t call me sweet but a psycho for nothing, and you’ve triggered my psycho.”

Arnie hurried Raffa past the threshold, not even stopping to say goodbye. I realized what a fright I looked. Like Carrie on prom night covered with pig’s blood. I remembered my words on my wedding day to Griselda. It might have been a prophecy.

Arms hugged me from behind. “You okay?” Sandro’s voice rumbled in my ear.

I turned in his arms and gazed up at him. His eyes were fierce and wary at the same time.

“I’m a mess.”

“A little blood doesn’t bother me.” But I had a feeling it wasn’t a little blood. He gave me a light shake again. “Are you okay?”

“I’m thinking…” And that was the truth. The carnage and dealing with Griselda were too much to process right now. I held up my hands that were shaking. “Sandro…”

“That’s adrenaline, baby,” he said.

Oh, that was probably why I felt invincible when I handled Griselda.

Sticks approached us with a wry grin on his face. “Queen,” he called me and then turned to Sandro. “I’m sorry they got the jump on me. Miller is watching Gian.” He glowered at the body in the foyer. “I wasn’t expecting them to go on immediate offensive when they arrived. How did you know?”

“Gian was acting weird and Tommy was not answering my calls. I couldn’t get a hold of you guys. What happened?”

“One of our men is working with Raffa. He put in a jammer.”

“You know who it is?”

“Miller took care of him.”

“Gian told you about Raffa’s plans?” I asked.

“He had no choice. I played Russian roulette with his head.”

One hour earlier

Sandro

Tommy wasn’t answering his phone. My calls kept going to voicemail.

Meanwhile, Gian was pacing at the rear end of a commercial truck that held our pallet of cocaine. He took a drag of his cigarette. He rarely smoked, and it was usually when shit was so dicey, it was about to hit the fan.

Something was up, and he and Tommy were keeping it from me. Maybe they were colluding to get rid of me.

Two other SUVs loaded with soldiers were parked beside us. We were all waiting for Tommy.

Arnie was leaning against the back of the truck but he was looking at me and then looking at Gian. The older Scavo had always been a soldier. He’d never wanted to be in charge of decisions, saying he liked the street work better. Earlier, I told Arnie to call Tommy just in case it was me he had an issue with. After all, Tommy was still pissed about the club. But he’d been sending Arnie’s calls to voicemail, too.

I wasn’t gonna drive three hours to Birmingham to meet the Toronto Albanians if my instincts were clawing at me to stay. So I called our contact and cancelled the drop-off, saying things were too hot right now.

Gian’s eyes narrowed at me when he heard me change the plans. “Are you insane? Tommy worked so hard to get that meeting.”

“Yeah, yet he’s not here. So where is he, Gian?”

“I don’t know. He must still be in a snit about the club.”

I walked to the back of the truck where Arnie was standing. “You have your revolver on you, Arnie? Can I have it?”

Brows furrowing, he didn’t question me but tossed me the gun. I checked the weapon. Tipped out the rounds and put one back in and spun the cylinder.

I walked back to Gian. With astonishment etched on his face, he foolishly squared off against me, his eyes darting between the gun in my hand and my face.

When I pressed the muzzle to his forehead, he dropped the cigarette and froze.

“How about you?” I asked softly. “Are you having a snit over something?”

“Boss…” Arnie stepped forward.

“Don’t interfere, Arnie.”

“What’s the meaning of this?” Gian roared, his hands stiff at his sides, but he immediately shut his mouth when I cocked the gun.

“Are we heading into a trap?”

“This shit again.”

I pulled the trigger.

Click.

Gian ducked and screamed.

“Oops,” I said.

When he realized he was still alive, he yelled, “Are you crazy? Raffa will hear of this!”

“Wrong chamber,” I told him. I pushed the cylinder out and dropped the cartridge in my palm to show Gian it was loaded. His eyes widened in disbelief. I chambered the round and spun the cylinder again. I pointed the gun at him.

“I repeat. Are we walking into a trap?”

He hesitated one second too long. I pulled the trigger again, and he jumped.

Empty.

“Boss,” Arnie called my attention again. “Maybe we could do this another way.”

“Yes. Yes. Listen to Arnie. Goddammit. You’re insane!”

“I wouldn’t be who I am if I wasn’t.” I spun the cylinder again. There was a trick to Russian roulette, but it was still a game of deadly chance. Gian was too flustered to spot the rim of the round, but I could. I’d played this game too many times. But this turn of the cylinder, Gian was out of luck and I still wanted my answers.

I pressed the muzzle to his forehead. “So, what has you on edge?”

Gian was trying not to cry. He flattened his mouth to keep his lips together. Not so tough now, eh, motherfucker? My fingers tightened on the trigger.

“It’s Raffa,” he rushed out. “He found out you drew your gun to shoot him.”

“I wasn’t gonna shoot him,” I said, keeping my voice and hand steady, but a chill raced down my spine. “Who told him? Griselda?”

“Raffa and I walked in on Griselda and Tommy arguing about it.”

Fuck!

“Is that why Tommy’s not here?”

“I don’t know. He probably doesn’t know how to face you…”

I spun away from him and returned the revolver and bullets to Arnie. “Watch him.” All other thoughts deserted me except for the need to get to Bianca. Raffa was a vindictive son of a bitch and God only knew how he would retaliate. As I headed to the rear of my SUV, I called Sticks. His phone had a strange message about being out of range before going to voicemail. It was the same for all the guys at the bunkhouse.

Fuck! Fuck!

I lifted the back gate of the SUV and the lid of the trunk covering my arsenal. I armed up with two nine-millimeters and a shotgun, screwing suppressors on the pistols because I liked my silent kills.

“What are you doing?” Gian shouted. Arnie was still pointing a gun at him.

“What do you think?”

“You think I’m going to let you get away with putting a gun to my head?”

I deleted the space between us, my voice low and lethal. “If Bianca’s harmed and I find out I could have prevented it if you’d come clean sooner, I’m gonna make you wish you were in hell. Now…” I tossed him the keys. “You’re driving.” I turned to Arnie. “Sit beside him.” I gave instructions to the rest of the crew before I slid in behind Gian. “I don’t like shooting men in the back, but I’ll make you an exception. One wrong move and you’ll be shitting in a bag for the rest of your life. Are we clear?”