Hi Ladies,

So happy to have you. After rereading this chapter I hurriedly edited it, and am trying to replace it. Grrrr. Why is it I don't see the errors until after I push the publish button? Anyway, Thanks for reading. I look forward to hearing from you.

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Chapter 3

Edward-

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Mike Newton is unavailable at this time. Please leave a message …"

I looked at the clock on the dash of my 2022 Aston Martin, growling as the neon green lights indicated it was well past midnight. Punching the end call button, I threw the phone into the passenger seat, rage welling in my chest to the point of exploding.

I'd fucking known better. That slimy bastard had absconded with a hundred K, and I could literally chew nails. Wait until I got my hands on that fucking cocksucker. "Motherfucker!"

Aggravation dictated my movements as I threw my car in reverse, and slammed on the accelerator. In seconds, I sat at the entrance to the parking garage of my condo, my blood heating with a fit of temper. "As soon as I get my hands on that son-of-a-bitch … I swear to fuck."

I wasted no time navigating the streets of Chicago, sliding into Mike's parking garage with one singular purpose in mind. Of course, his parking spot was vacated and there was no way to know if the bastard would return before blowing town with my cash. There was a slight probability he'd come back to collect personal assets, and I'd be waiting when he showed his fucking face.

Human beings were animals. There were Alphas, betas, and omegas. I prided myself on being an Alpha. I was the be-all and end-all of the Deviants. Yeah, my father headed the family, and he used his influence to guide the rest of the pack, but I was the one out here on the streets making shit happen. Feeling my animalistic counterpart rear its ruthless head, I sat there in the leather bucket seat only for a second before scooping my phone from the seat and exiting the car.

My jaw clenched so hard my bones ached. Once again, I hit the call button as I crossed the concrete floor to the elevator. His voice message rang through the receiver, reviving my initial anger, over and over, every single time I heard it. The thought of putting a bullet between his eyes motivated my steps until I stood in front of his apartment door. Without hesitation, I placed a well-rounded kick to the doorjamb, splintering the wood, the door flying back to hit the adjacent wall.

A quick inspection of the darkened rooms turned up no indication where the bastard could've gone. I vaguely remembered him saying his wife was visiting family in Ohio, and my chest froze on my next breath.

This would've been the perfect opportunity for Mike to grab the cash and go, his wife might've already packed their valuables, knowing his plans.

Son-of-a-bitch. I'd been had. A rage like no other was born in that instance, and with a wave of deep-seated anger burning hot, I kicked his bedroom door wide open. The bed was perfectly made. Their wedding photos littered the dresser, and jewelry and wrinkled bills were strewn across the smooth wood.

If this had been a planned evacuation, they would've packed those simple reminders of their relationship, or so I would've thought. Some of my ire was appeased, my blood still simmering but no longer threatening to boil over. Oh, Mike fucking Newton would feel my wrath, there was no doubt, but I no longer felt like a complete fool.

That left one question. Where the fuck was the rat?

I was beyond tempted to call the guys and send them on a trip to Ohio, yet intuition stalled my fingers over Demetri's number. With the simple press of a button, I could have Demetri on the road, and put my mind at ease. A hundred grand wasn't a small amount, and I couldn't overlook deception, that was the bottom line.

Mike had worked for my family for the last ten years, running small jobs here and there, only recently had been trusted with bigger and bigger jobs. Jobs I wouldn't have given to a rookie. Lately, however, small sums had started coming up missing from payments, and if he'd come to me asking for extra cash, I would've happily given it to him.

It was the theft. It was the deception. It was the question of loyalty. It was the fact we'd called that man family, and he'd turned around and stolen from me. That was the problem. I had zero tolerance for bullshit, or games.

After circling the apartment twice, I came to a standstill in the living room, staring at a large photo of Mike and Jane on their wedding day. Right next to the picture was a photo of their son tucked in the corner. Giving Mike the benefit of the doubt, I called one last time, fuming when his cell rang through to voicemail.

Tapping my thigh with an air of impatience, I put out an urgent message to all my men to locate the scoundrel and bring him directly to me. Instantly, Emmett responded, his dooming ringtone filling the quiet apartment, as acid burned in my nostrils, I answered his call. My brother's grave tone barked through the receiver. "Hey, bro, what's going on?"

Emmett and I shared a strong bond, and he had the ability to read me without a word being spoken. He knew I'd never call at this time at night for any frivolous reason. "I sent that bastard out at nine o'clock to retrieve that payment from Michigan. He isn't answering his phone, and his fucking apartment is desolate. I need everyone to ride out to all his hangouts, maybe he stopped for a drink." I glared at the picture on the wall. "He better fucking hope that's the case, I swear to fucking Christ, Emmett …"

"I'm getting my shoes on, Ed. I'll check over at Kinzie and see if anything looks suspicious." He fell silent, and I heard the rustling around on the other end of the line as he dressed. "I'll send Demetri over to White's. Maybe he's cock deep in some fucking stripper. If he is, we'll know within the hour."

"Thanks, Em. I'll hang tight here in the off chance he returns to the apartment." Wandering over to the recliner in the corner, I plucked the string of the lamp, illuminating the seat in a soft yellow glow. Extracting the gun tucked in my waistband, I plopped onto the cushions, bracing the iron on my knee. Pressing a balled fist to my forehead, I seethed, "He can't be that fucking stupid, Em. There isn't anywhere he can go to avoid the Deviants. I swear, I will wring his fucking neck with my bare hands."

"No," he huffed, the sound of his boots thudding on stairs echoing through the receiver. I knew Emmett reached his door, hearing the click of the locks, and the creak of hinges when he exited his house. "I don't think he's that stupid. I don't particularly think he's that smart, but he knows he'd be hunted wherever the hell he went." The click of his truck door opening and slamming reached my ears when he briefly fell silent before saying, "I'll give you a call back when I get to White's. I have to call Demetri. Talk to you later, bro."

"Yep."

Trying to take my mind off of Mike's potential suicide mission, I thumbed through the messages on my phone. I'd deferred eight calls from Dad today, and each time his name brightened my screen a new aggravation was born.

I closed my eyes, willing patience I didn't feel to calm my soul. Eight missed calls, and six voicemails I'd ignored had me lifting my phone to my ear. Dread filled me as I listened to Carlisle's message. "Mateo is going to be in town next week, Edward. You have an obligation to this family. There is a scheduled dinner at Les Nomades on Tuesday. I expect you to be there. They are bringing Ginevra. You better be there, Edward. The deal is sealed and final."

The matter-of-fact tone Carlisle used didn't allow for any wiggle room. Something drastic would have to happen to get me out of this conundrum. My fingers curled around the warmed plastic of my cell, resisting the urge to hurl the phone through the window. It would take some hefty persuasion to redirect Dad from this course of action, I just hadn't landed on a good avenue, however.

Glaring at the phone I listened to the next message from Carlisle. "Edward. Answer the damn phone. You can't keep avoiding your responsibility to this family."

Next message: "Edward, it's time to let go of your playboy ways. This is a wonderful opportunity. Why can't you see that I'm doing it to ensure the legacy of this family?"

Legacy. What a crackerjack excuse. This didn't have anything to do with a legacy. If it did he would've forced this shit down Emmett's throat. I'd expected him to be enraged when Emmett met and married Rose, yet my father had welcomed her to the family with open arms. While I loved my sister-in-law and would give my life to protect her, Emmett was the firstborn. This 'responsibility' should've fallen squarely on my brother's broad shoulders.

Carlisle was asking too damn much. I couldn't bind myself to a woman I'd never met, or enter into a marriage my father and her father had orchestrated. It was a serious fucking no.

I couldn't deny she was a beautiful woman. Her olive-green gaze brilliantly shown in the photo Dad sent. She had lush pink bowed lips with an angular jaw and pert nose. I traced tanned skin and perfectly arched eyebrows, darting to study her light brown hair. Ginevra was a compelling woman, and I undeniably could envision an attraction to her.

It was the control aspect of the whole equation I couldn't get on board with. My refusal had nothing to do with the young woman staring back at me. Perhaps if I'd met her on the street, and we'd developed a genuine relationship, things would be vastly different. It wasn't, however, and Ginerva and I hadn't met on our own accord. I wouldn't take a sacrificial lamb into marriage.

A sound near the door had my predicament fleeing my mind. Ginerva and my looming forced marriage flew from my mind when the door creaked, barely moving. On impulse, I lifted the gun pointing it at face level. Gradually, the door rocked and crept open until I was staring into Mike's bloodshot eyes.

His hands flew up into the air in surrender when he spotted me, his complexion turning ashen, lips wobbling as tears welled in his eyes. "I'm sorry … I-I … I don't know what happened…"

I leveled the barrel at his forehead, my eyebrows lifting with expectation. "Where the fuck is my money?"

He shook his head adamantly, fear obvious in his gaze. "I don't … I don't know. I swear I picked it up. I had it in my backseat. I swear Edward. I don't know what happened. I woke up and everything was gone."

"What the fuck do you mean? It was all gone?" I moved forward until I stood an inch away, his shallow breath grazing my chin. "How is that even possible? You were supposed to pick up the drop and bring it to me? How difficult could it be?"

He visibly shuddered as fear overtook him, and a tear leaked from the corner of his eye, running down his cheek to drip off his jaw. "I stopped to get a drink. One drink, Edward. I swear. I don't know what happened. I remember sitting down at the table … That's all I remember."

A thin string of control kept me from beating him where he stood. Mike was already on the verge of pissing his pants, and I highly doubted he'd stashed that much cash and had the balls to face me. He must've seen my car, knowing what fate awaited him, and still, he'd come to the apartment to face me. While I couldn't let his previous transgressions go, I did stall in that moment with deep consideration, taking in his total appearance.

His button-up was askew as if he'd been ransacked, several buttons loosened and his sleeves hanging open where his cufflinks should've been. The glitter from his Rolex I knew he wore like a prized position was missing. Not willing to let him completely off the hook, I walked forward, pushing him back until he rested against the wall. "You've been stealing money from each delivery I have sent you to get. Why the fuck should I believe you didn't hide the blunt somewhere?"

A nervous laugh with no humor escaped his mouth, his throat working as he shook his head in the negative. "I didn't, Edward. I stopped for a drink. I did get carried away and had more than one, but I swear on my wife and kid, I'm not that fucking dumb." A shiver ran through him, and more tears followed the first. "If I'd stolen that money. I wouldn't be standing here. I swear …"

I believed him. Instinct told me Mike might be many things and had done some foolhardy shit, but he didn't have the courage to look me in the eye and lie. "The money you've been skimming—what about that? What have you been doing with my money, Mike?"

He sobbed, his teeth chattering as he confessed, "Jane's mom has cancer. She's been struggling to pay for treatment and necessities. I-I took it to help her pay the medical bills."

My heart stammered in my chest. Despite my reputation, I wasn't an unfeeling animal. On a very rare occasion, I could sympathize with someone wanting to care for their family. Leaning in close, I stared him in the eye, my narrowed gaze intense and unwavering. "You should've come to me. Now, you will have to pay for your insolence. Right now, however, you're going to take me to the last place you had my fucking money."

Grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, I turned him toward the door and pushed him over the threshold. His steps faltered. With a firm hand, I kept him upright as I pushed him into the elevator, and hit the button to the garage. "Tell me everything you remember."

"I-I stopped a-at Blinkers for a drink. I had a few, and I was a little tipsy." Alarm tinged his words, and I could detect the honesty. "I wasn't drunk. I wasn't." He quieted for a minute, and then, his eyes brightened with memory. "This–this girl … she came to talk to me at the table. That's all I remember. The next thing I know I was waking up and everything was gone. She–she took everything. My watch, wedding ring, the blunt."

"You woke up?" I prompted, pulling him from the elevator when the double doors opened. While I listened to Mike relate the incident a few suspicions crept into my thoughts. Was it possible Mike had been drugged and robbed? A thought occurred to me as we crossed the parking lot to my car. "Were you the one who hung up on my call? Your phone rang, and then, abruptly went to voicemail."

"No. No." He gulped, dropping into the passenger seat without any prompting. "I don't remember any call. What time?" Confusion was written all over his face as he withdrew his phone, and thumbed through the missed calls. He squinted reading the information glowing back at him. "This one? Eleven-thirty-five? I didn't hang up on that call cause I never saw it."

I threw my car in reverse and shot out of the parking space like a bullet. Whoever robbed Mike had looked at the call and pressed ignore. I could feel it in my gut. The little rat bastard. Stalling at the entrance of the parking garage, I glanced at the clock. It was almost four in the morning, and the chances of the rascal still being out and about were slim to none. "Direct me to Blinkers. If I have any luck I can catch them before they lock up for the night."

"Y-yeah. Yeah, turn right. B-but I think they closed at three," Mike shuffled nervously, biting his nail as if he had a vengeance toward it. "Ed-Edward, I-I … it might have been a chick. I-I think I remember a chick sitting with me at the table."

"A chick?" Curiously, I looked over at his stricken face. "Or a stripper?"

"N-no. Blinkers isn't a strip joint. It's just a cocktail bar …" He cleared his throat, croaking as he confessed. "Maybe a hooker … S-she asked if I wanted t-to have a good time."

"A hooker? Really?" I glared at the road, fulling the directions he gave me until I rolled closer to the Southside. This area was known for its shady dealings, and knowing my employee had been taken by a fucking hooker had my anger shooting through the roof. "Your fucking wife is out of town dealing with her sick mother, and your being hustled by a fucking hooker? How low will you go?"

"I know. I'm an asshole. Jane deserves so much better than me," he whined, back breaking down into a sniveling pup.

More than annoyed by his pity party, I closed my eyes and counted to ten. My opposition reinforced, I drove the rest of the way to Blinkers in blessed silence. Every once in a while, Mike's sobs would interrupt the peace, causing me to cringe in response. I thanked all that was holy when Blinker's dim light appeared down the road, and with determination, I gunned the engine until my car slid up to the curb. I didn't waste another second, shoving Mike toward the door, I pushed my own open.

The windows were tinted making it difficult to see inside, and with no other choice, I knocked hard enough to rattle glass. When no one immediately answered, I tried again, and this time I was greeted by the broad outline, and a muffled voice. "We're closed. You'll have to come back tomorrow."

I could've pulled my gun from my waistband to demand the information I sought, yet I dug through my pockets and extracted the cash I had on hand. "I'm not here for a drink. I'm looking for some intel."

The lock clicked, and the door was cracked until I was staring into narrowed black eyes. "Ain't no snitch." Even as he spoke, his gaze darted to the cash I had fanned out before him. His position wavered, and I could see his defiance crumbling. "Unless the price is right."

"These five Benjuimen's say the price is definitely right. Care to talk?" The bar owner was going to give me the intel I was looking for either way. I preferred to keep things civil. "My man was robbed tonight after he left here. I just want to know if you can share any information about that."

He shifted back several steps, pushing the door open wider for Mike and me to enter. He waved a hand toward the camera above the bar. "I keep tight surveillance considering this side of town. Can't ever be too careful. Follow me, and we can take a look at the monitor and see if anything looks suspicious."

Two minutes later, I stood in front of the small screen watching as a cute brunette with a pixie cut slip a pill into the whiskey she poured. Mixing the liquor until the pill dissolved, she turned back to the bar and handed the drink off to a very attractive young woman wearing the shortest fucking skirt I'd ever seen. Momentarily distracted by the long legs exposed, I glared at the screen, remembering what my mission was.

The girl didn't hesitate, grabbing the drink the bartender slid in her direction, and she sauntered over to Mike's table with a wide smile. I pointed at the woman sliding her hand up Mike's thigh. "Do you know that girl?"

When he looked like he might refuse to answer, I slapped another hundred-dollar bill on the table. "Her name's Bella. I don't have a last name."

"Would you happen to know where I can find, Bella?" His lips pinched tightly as he regarded me. With growing irritation, I placed another bill on top of the last one. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. It's up to you."

"She shares an apartment with my bartender." Long dark fingers swiped the money from the table. "If you come with me, I will get you the address out of my office."

The sun was starting to peek above the buildings to the east when Mike and I climbed into my Aston. With a quick call to Emmett, I punched Bella's address into Google and made a quick U-turn in that direction. In the next thirty minutes, I'd face the little thief who'd ripped me off, and get my money back. I glanced over at Mike, his eyelids drooping as he fought off sleep and the whiskey he'd consumed. "Don't get too comfortable, I still owe you a beat down, and I will be taking care of that once I have my money back."

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