ATONEMENT | MAFIA ROMANCE | SMUT

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

"During conveyance?" Tsking, he scratched his chest. "Probably. I deliver imported firearms weekly. Blaire came along for the drive every now and then."

"If Blaire is the sniper?" Having lost his appetite, Brad slapped the breakfast roll onto the takeaway container. "Warren was the target."

From his comfortable position in the leather wing chair, Josh glanced at the ajar door. "If Blaire had a target, I reckon the bullet was meant for Alexa. I mean, think about it. Her hatred toward Alexa was unwarranted. None of us understood her bitterness until the night she confessed to the boss. She is in love with Warren. In her sad, twisted little mind, she believes Alexa is standing between them."

My blood ran cold.

"I like it." Brad sipped coffee. "I think—what the fuck is that?" Jumping feet first onto the sofa, he gesticulated to the crawling bug on the floor. "I swear on everything bastard holy. It is bigger than Robert Wadlow's fucking head. Stomp on it already."

Rolling his eyes, Nate grabbed an empty glass from the minibar and caged the bug to one designated area on the floor. "Princess."

"I'll fucking-princess-you, in a minute." Dabbing sweat from his forehead, Brad gathered the half-eaten breakfast roll, coffee mug and unlit blunt and relocated to the space by the desk edge. He pulled up a chair. "Howdy, Bossman. I came for a visit."

Brad's eccentricities kept me sane. Of course, he can switch it off, when necessary, but I preferred his vivaciousness, especially when irritable.

"Sir, I have turned London upside down looking for this bitch." Nate's anxiousness peaked. "Blaire went off-the-grid. Hiding from the syndicate makes logistical sense. She knows better than to hang around. I bet she boarded the first available flight to Mexico to escape death."

Pensive, I stared.

His shamefaced gaze raked over the brothers. "You don't believe me."

I didn't know what to believe anymore. "You are intelligent, loyal and dependable. But you do not think clearly where Blaire is concerned. You are too emotionally invested. Unless you prove otherwise, how can I differentiate the truth from lies? After all, you defended her honour unreservedly. For all I know, Blaire is in a safe house somewhere, and you are the one who put her there."

"No, Sir." Nate had never looked so pale. "I will hunt her down and vindicate myself."

A knock on the door.

Everyone's expressions morphed into impassiveness.

I relaxed in the leather armchair. "Come in."

"Sorry to disturb you." Alexa strolled into the office clad in seamless yoga pants and a cross-back design sports bra. "Yes, I am sweating like a pig. I just ran on the treadmill for thirty minutes."

Tapping the space on my thigh, I slipped an arm around her waist, kissing her shoulder as she got comfortable. "What can I do for you, Mrs Warren?"

She reached for the wireless keyboard. "I need to borrow the computer for, like, five seconds."

"Great," Brad groused. "Ten hours of online shopping then. Alexa, I have seen your wardrobe. You have enough shoes to last a lifetime."

"You're one to talk." Typing cake deliveries into the search bar, she clicked on the first link and scrolled through designs. "You own more Ferragamo shoes than Salvatore himself."

"Salvatore is dead," he said with a sardonic smile. "And I don't know what you're talking about. I only own the shoes on my feet."

Alexa selected the three-tiered basketball cake alongside black and orange cupcakes. Tapping her card details, she chose a delivery date and closed the browser.