Page 73 of His Kidnapped Queen
True to his word, Diego comes pulling up within the hour, hopping out of his car.
“Where is everyone?” he asks incredulously.
I speak through gritted teeth. “That’s exactly what I’d like to know.”
“Nico—”
“He isn’t supposed to know about this shipment, but I figure if he did know, he’d be here.”
“At least to steal the guns.”
I nod tightly. “So I need you here to watch it while I find Alfonso.”
“I’ve got you,Caputo.”
I clap a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Diego. For everything.”
I mean mostly his discretion about the Sophia thing. Diego takes it in stride, just shrugging.
“Just doing my job.”
I leave and drive around the city, looking for Nico’s obnoxious car at the valet stations. When I finally find it, it’s parked haphazardly across two red zones with parking tickets sticking from the windshield wipers.
I curse and bang my fist against the hood as I walk by. Nico is going to get thrown in jail for parking tickets before anyone has a chance to take us down.
I stalk into the back entrance of the strip club called Peaches, knowing he’ll be in the VIP area.
I throw a stack of hundreds at the stripper who walks up to me with a tray of drinks.
“VIP.”
She nods, tucking the money into her g-string and leading me through the crowd to the back.
“Couple of assholes bought a few hours and they think they own the place,” she mutters, and I catch sight of Alfonso chugging a bottle of champagne.
I slowly hand her another stack of hundreds. “Leave me back here for thirty minutes, no matter what you hear.”
She blinks her dark eyes at me and nods, taking the money and making herself scarce.
“Riviera!” I bark, calling Alfonso’s last name.
He freezes, dropping the champagne on the floor. It shatters and bubbles spread everywhere.
Nico stands with considerable effort, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. He’s clearly been using, and god knows what they’ve been drinking and for how long.
“Donny buzzkill over here,” he slurs, and I tighten my jaw.
“Don’t fucking talk to me, Nico. This isn’t about you.”
Alfonso swallows visibly, holding up his hands and taking a couple of steps back.
“Caputo, I?—”
“You’re supposed to be watching a shipment.”
Realization slowly dawns over his features. “Ohfuck.”
“Oh, fuck is right,” I seethe, gathering his shirt in my hand to slam him up against the wall. “I tell you to do something and you do it.”
