C158 Just Another Pawn

The dimly lit warehouse reeked of rust, oil, and lingering despair.

Tad paced back and forth, the soles of his boots scuffing against the concrete floor. His mood was foul, darker than the shadows pooling in the corners.

His shoulder still throbbed where the bullet had grazed him at Natasha’s place, a humiliating reminder of his botched attempt to rid himself of that meddling woman.

He rolled his shoulder, wincing slightly as he muttered curses under his breath.

"Incompetent idiots," he spat, slamming his fist against a metal table.

The tools on it rattled, the sound grating enough to worsen his mood.

The men around him stood silently, their gazes darting nervously.

They knew better than to provoke him when he was like this.

Tad’s mind churned with thoughts of revenge.

He needed to make a move.

It should be a grand finale that would not only wipe out Dante Cazador and his precious Annabelle but also anyone else who dared to cross him.

A chilling smile crept across his lips as the pieces of his plan began to take shape.

He’d been careful and meticulous.

But he had enough of that.

Now it was time for chaos.

As he revelled in the thought, a sharp voice cut through the air, breaking his concentration.

"Do you ever stop scheming and actually do something useful?"

Tad turned slowly, his gaze narrowing as Antonia Virelli strode into the room.

He looked behind her to the men who rushed after her as if to stop her after they had obviously failed to keep the pseky bitch away from barging in on him.

Her expensive heels clicked against the concrete, her confidence radiating despite the obvious tension in the air.

"You’re in my space, Antonia," he said coldly, his tone laced with warning. " I can't remember inviting you."

"And you’re wasting time," she retorted, crossing her arms.

Her designer coat hung perfectly off her shoulders, her sleek black hair pulled into a tight bun.

She exuded control, but Tad wasn’t fooled.

He could see the cracks beneath the surface.

"What do you want?" Tad growled, leaning against the table.

"I want results," Antonia snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut through steel. "You’ve been promising me for weeks that you’d take care of Annabelle and Natasha. Meanwhile, I’m the one dodging Dante’s wrath. Do you know how close he is to figuring everything out? Do I need to remind you that I know more about you than you think I do? If you let me take the fall alone, I will..."

Tad’s patience snapped.

He straightened, his dark eyes blazing as he stepped toward her. "Sing like a bird? Let me make it simple for you."

Antonia’s confident posture faltered as Tad loomed over her.

"You want to know who I am? What I’ve done?" He leaned in, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "I’m the one who killed Isabella."

Her eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly in shock. "But..."

"Yeah, that’s right," Tad continued, his voice cold and cruel. "Wonder how I ended up with Tad's face?"

He tutted as he moved around her like she was meat on a block he was inspecting. "Oh Antonia, your precious schemes are child’s play compared to what I’ve done. Let's not forget the fact that I was badly burnt because of you too. You owe me, bitch!" he said so harshly that she flinhed.

Then he continued, in a matter of fact tone again.

"I’ve burnt houses, slaughtered men, and destroyed lives. Dante doesn’t even know the half of it."

Antonia stepped back, her confidence shattered.

"And you think you can come in here, nagging at me like a scorned wife?" Tad’s laughter was dark, hollow. "You’re nothing, Antonia. Just another pawn; I’ll move when it suits me."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and Tad could see the wheels turning in her head.

"You’ve crossed a line," she hissed, her voice shaking with barely contained fury. "You think you’re untouchable, but you’re not. I have connections, Tad...or whatever your real name is. And I’ll make damn sure..."

"You’ll do nothing," Tad interrupted, his tone icy. "Because if you try, I’ll make sure you don’t live long enough to regret it."

*********

Antonia’s hands trembled as she gripped the steering wheel of her car, parked a safe distance away from Tad’s hideout.

Her heart pounded, her mind racing with the revelations she had just uncovered.

He had confessed.

The arrogant bastard had actually bragged about killing Isabella.

She was still shaken about how he had ended up with Tad's face.

She had no idea something like that could be done so flawlessly.

She was certain the real Tad would be already deader than doornail at that time.

Unless that psycho had kept him alive for another of his sick reasons.

For a second, her mind went to Mikhail, and she wished she could talk to him about the mess she had gotten herself into.

She couldn't believe she had gotten played by the bastard she thought she had right where she wanted him.

Antonia’s finger hovered over her phone screen.

She stared at the recording she had made, her chest tightening with a mix of fear and determination.

Tad had underestimated her, and she wasn’t going to let his threats go unanswered.

She was more than sure that he would do something to her.

But then she wouldn't go down alone.

With a steadying breath, she did another recording and sent it with the video to Dante’s number.

She cursed under her breath as the message from her phone bounced back.

He had blocked her line.

No surprise there.

But she wasn’t done.

Using a workaround, she sent the recording to Dante’s private cloud storage, ensuring he’d see it eventually.

"This will get Dante on his heels faster," she thought, her lips curving into a satisfied smile.

Antonia started her car, the engine purring softly as she prepared to leave.

The weight of her actions bore down on her, but she reassured herself that she had done the right thing.

She was finally taking control, showing Tad that he wasn’t as invincible as he thought.

The moment she turned the key, a deafening explosion tore through the air.

Blood splattered the windscreen as the roof of the car flew off like a javelin.