Soulless Devil (Sons of Valentino #3)(10)



Fuck that. I storm up to the booth. “Get the fuck out of here. Now!” I grunt.

“Oh shit, Romeo, calm down, man. This is not the place,” Luca whispers from behind me.

I don’t pay him any attention. “Did I fucking stutter?” I look at all four guys. Their faces pale as they scamper out of the booth, doing their best to avoid any contact with me.

I glare at Sandra, who just smirks at me. “Luca, you let the hound out of the cage again, I see.” She laughs.

“Every pet needs an outing every now and then, Sandy. You know that.” Luca goes to slide into the seat next to Livvy. Grabbing him by the shirt, I pull him back and shove him towards the other side.

Ignoring the crap Sandra and Luca are bantering about, I turn my focus on Livvy. She doesn’t look so good. “Are you okay?” I question. She’s fucking pale.

“I’m fine. I just… I don’t feel great. Is it hot in here?” she asks, looking around.

“How much have you had to drink?”

She didn’t touch a drop of the champagne I sent over in the restaurant. And she’s clutching a water bottle in her hand, the lid tossed in front of her on the table. “I haven’t. I don’t drink. I’m not old enough yet,” she says so fucking innocently. Luca snorts and Sandra shoves an elbow into his ribs.

“How much has she had to drink?” I ask Sandra.

“She hasn’t, swear it. She’s been drinking water all night,” Sandra says with a shrug.

“Why is the room spinning?” Livvy asks me. “Romeo?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re my favorite tragic love,” she says, and I know something’s not right. Even if her words speak true to my heart… If I let myself love her, fuck anyone, it will only end in tragedy.

“Luca, call the doc, get the car, and meet us out back,” I tell him. “Livvy, I’m taking you home.”

“Wait… what? Why?” Sandra says, with genuine concern for her friend.

“If she hasn’t been drinking, then she’s either taken something or been roofied. I want the name of the asshole who was sitting next to her, Sandra.”

Her face pales as she nods. “I’ll text it to you. Is… is she going to be okay?”

“Yes,” I say with more force than I meant to. Because there is no other fucking option. Luca is on his phone as he shifts out of the booth.

“I’m coming.” Sandra jumps up to follow us.

I don’t acknowledge her. Instead, I scoop Livvy into my arms. “Why are you carrying me?” She looks up at me. “Why is the room spinning?” Then her eyes widen. “Romeo, what’s happening to me?”

Her panic pierces my fucking soul. “Livvy, did you take anything? Any pills or anything?” I’m certain the answer is no, but I ask anyway.

“No.”

“I think someone put something in your drink. I have a doctor coming to my place to check you out. You’re going to be fine,” I tell her.

“Thank you.” She leans her head against my chest. “My dad was right,” she whispers.

“About what?”

“That there are some shady-ass people in New York,” she says. “His words, not mine.”

“Yeah, he’s right about that.” I leave out the part about me being one of them. Although, New York is about to have one less fucking predator in its midst.

By the time we make it back to our apartment, Livvy is passed out in my arms. My fingers hover over her pulse on her neck, making sure it’s still detectable. Stabilized. My own heart might be running overtime at the moment. But hers is a calm, even beat. I walk up the stairs to my bedroom and place her on my bed.

“The doc’s here,” Luca says from my doorway.

I nod my head. The doctor enters the room and looks from me to Livvy’s unconscious form in front of me. “I don’t know what the asshole gave her, but she hasn’t been drinking and doesn’t take drugs. Find out what it was,” I tell him.

“Sure, how long has she been out of it?” he asks as he lifts her wrist to check her pulse, and his eyes flick to his watch as he keeps time.

“About twenty minutes,” I tell him.

“She’s a lucky girl that you noticed,” he says, retrieving a syringe from his bag.

I don’t answer. I watch silently as he preps the inside of her elbow with an alcohol swab, secures the elastic torniquet, preps the needle, and draws her blood into the plastic tube. Once he’s finished, I ask the question I’ve been trying not to think about. “Is she going to be okay?”

“She’ll be fine. My guess would be that she’s been slipped some Rohypnol. She’ll have a killer headache when she wakes tomorrow. But I’ll get these samples back to the lab and make sure that’s all it was. Her vitals are good.”

“Thanks. Send me the test results. Is there anything else I need to know? Anything I need to do?” I ask as I look down at her.

“Just keep an eye on her. If anything changes, take her to the ER. But, otherwise, just wait for her to wake up on her own.”

“Okay.”

The doctor leaves and I pull up a single-seat sofa that looks directly at my bed. Minutes later, Luca walks into the room with a tumbler of whiskey, which he passes to me. I take it and set it on the coffee table.

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