His Greatest Redemption [REUPLOADED]

37

Spade

I had to handle something. Don't be mad. There's an address on the back.

- Sam

"Why would she go to some shitty trailer park with your car?" Nico asked, his face and voice too fucking stoic for my liking. I wanted to pummel him into the ground for sounding so nonchalant right now, but I ignored him and continued going back and forth in front of the doors, seconds away from yanking my hair in frustration.

I wasn't overreacting. This shit with Volkov, it was serious. He was the reason I held that long ass meeting today, making sure my underbosses and enforcers knew to keep their fucking eyes out. After last night, with me sending one of his men's bodies back to him in a FedEx box, I knew it wouldn't be long before he tried to call himself retaliating.

But all of that shit went out the window after Sam murdered the fucker who raped her. And that fact, it was still fresh inside my brain, eating at my insides bit by bit. They failed her, every single fucking one of them, when they didn't go after the motherfucker and make him suffer. Torture and death were two different things, and I just so happened to excel at both.

Placing a cigarette between my lips, I glanced at the blood smeared on my hands, the same ones I touched Sam with last night.

"You know, when I was on the phone with her, she hung up in my face like she was in a hurry and told me she'd call me back. She didn't." Eli said from his spot behind the couch, concern lacing his voice.

This was the second time I'd lost her in less than forty-eight hours. I couldn't handle that woman to save my fucking life. Wherever she went, she obviously didn't want anyone to know if she left by herself and in a rush, according to the guards outside, the ones I was three seconds away from killing.

I didn't know why my insides felt like they were being twisted. I didn't know how I'd gotten to this point. She was everything I couldn't control, and a part of me liked that. I liked the challenge. She was stubborn as hell, but I somehow found that amusing. She didn't make me want to kill her whenever she opened her mouth, and I didn't hate her.

There was this feeling spreading all over my goddamn body like the plague whenever she was involved and I didn't fucking like it.

My phone vibrated against my thigh, and I swiped it unlocked as I took my cigarette out of my mouth, blowing out smoke. I answered the call. "You know, I can understand why you, too, are obsessed with her." His voice was low, sickly fucking intimate, making me clench my fist. "She's a rare beauty, Spade. A little feisty, but that'll be fixed soon. I can imagine carving her into the little doll she was meant to be." At the same time he spoke, my phone dinged with a message.

Dread overwhelmed me from every fucking place possible, seeping into the tiny cracks Samantha had managed to carve into my soul. I lowered the phone and glanced at the file attached to my messages from Volkov's number. Tapping on the video, it opened to a girl in a tight black dress that barely went past her upper thigh. There was a bag over her head and she was laid out on the bed, some of her hair spilling over her shoulders.