At 8:00 a.m. sharp, Dwayne was sitting in Matteo's office. The air was filled with the scent of Cuban cigars and bourbon as Matteo paced back and forth. His eyes reflected the storm brewing within Dwayne, who was seated across the desk.
After Yellows left last night, Dwayne had messaged Eddie, giving him everything he had on McKenzie and Jasmine. He'd asked if he could access McKenzie's laptop to retrieve the last message she received, and if she had reached out to him. He even offered Eddie a reward if he found them alive. But so far messages were met with silence.
Even as he helped Yellows track down McKenzie and Jasmine, he still remained clueless about Olivia's exact whereabouts under Matteo's thumb. Eddie hadn't replied to his message about that either.
Which made sitting in Matteo's office a torturous exercise in restraint. He hoped the poker face he wore didn't betray him.
Finally, Matteo settled behind his desk, his gaze piercing into Dwayne's.
"Mr. Jackson, my court date approaches. What news do you have for me?" he asked impatiently.
Dwayne's shoulders squared, and he met Matteo's intense gaze head-on as he chose his words carefully.
"Mr. Jarvis and Mr. O'Neil, the container yard workers who didn't show up for work the day your container was seized, were in a fatal car accident. Deliberate, I'm certain."
Matteo leaned forward, a flicker of interest behind his impassive face as he nodded for Dwayne to continue.
"The brakes on Mr. Jarvis' car were tampered with. This was the cause of the accident. Both access keys were missing. It meant that whoever did this was watching Mr. Jarvis and Mr. O'Neil closely to know they carpooled to work every day."
Dwayne opened his briefcase and unveiled four pictures, two of which he handed to Matteo who studied them closely.
"All the evidence of these men being at the container yard was wiped from your security cameras. However, I managed to capture these from the security camera across the street as the men were exiting the compound."
"Those men," Dwayne pointed to the pictures in Matteo's hand. "Had access keys to Mr. Jarvis' and Mr. O'Neil's workstations, but their identities were hidden under wigs, contacts, and prosthetics. Clever, but not clever enough."
Matteo's eyes narrowed as Dwayne handed him the other two photographs.
"These are the real culprits, Milo and Pedro Lopez. Do you have any idea who these men are?"
Matteo said nothing and he continued to stare at the photos.
"No," Matteo stated blankly. "But, I'll get my men to handle this. If you find any other information, please, keep me updated."
Taking that as his cue to leave, Dwayne gathered his briefcase, nodded at Matteo and walked out of the office.
Matteo was hiding something. That much was clear. He'd have his boys hunt Milo and Pedro down, and if he got to them first, they'd be dead in a matter of days.
But, Dwayne needed to know who they were and why they wanted to take down Matteo's organization before Matteo got his claws in them.
The clock was ticking, and time was running out.
Back in his truck, Dwayne leaned back in the seat, eyes on the windshield. He wondered if he could twist the narrative to make it look like Alejandro was pulling strings behind the curtain? If he played it right, maybe he could get them to turn on each other. Let them wage war, burn each other to the ground. All he had to do was light the match and stay out of the blast zone. With both sides too busy tearing each other apart, it'd be easier to find Olivia, Jasmine, and McKenzie.
He started the engine, pulled out of the parking lot and headed to the office. He knew that with so many pieces in motion the battle line had been drawn and the game was far from over.
After a long day at the office and checking in with Yellows and Richard, both of whom had nothing new on Olivia, McKenzie, or Jasmine, Dwayne felt suffocated. At least he'd fed Matteo enough to keep him off his neck for a bit.
Around seven, he was pacing his living room with a glass of whiskey in hand. He had shot Eddie another message. Still nothing.
The doorbell rang.
He put the glass down and checked the peephole. His brow creased.
"Leslie? What are you doing here?" he asked, opening the door.
He hadn't seen her in years. As a favour to Richard, he'd taken her to prom when McKenzie didn't want to go. Richard had to work and didn't want to leave her alone with their alcoholic father.
Leslie looked up at him, her smile reaching her almond-coloured eyes and shrugged. "I went to Richard's place, but no one was there. He mentioned your address at one point, so I thought I'd come here."
Dwayne managed a nod. "What are you doing in town?"
"Are you going to let me in or are we going to have this conversation at your front door?" She lifted a brow teasingly.
"I'm sorry," he said apologetically, "Please come in."
Dwayne stepped aside, allowing Leslie to enter with her luggage as he locked the door behind her.
Her eyes swept across the living room, which was painted a dark grey. A few pictures of his parents and Olivia adorned the walls. The space was furnished with a three-piece sofa set, two armchairs, and coffee tables on the sides. There was one ceiling-to-floor shelf that held a few books and a TV was mounted on the wall.
"Nice home you've got here," she remarked. She turned to face him and closed the gap between them. "Hope I'm not disturbing you and wifey at this hour."
Dwayne chuckled. "No wife to disturb," he replied, a wry smile playing on his lips. "I'm sure Richard told you that much when he spilled the beans on my address."
Leslie smirked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Well, you know, anything can happen in six months. Just making sure," she said, her finger trailing down Dwayne's chest sensually.
Dwayne cleared his throat and stepped away from her. "I've got an early start for work tomorrow," he said, trying to steer the conversation away from his personal life.
With a playful smile, Leslie nodded. "Oh, I wouldn't want to keep you up, Dwayne. Lead the way to the guest room then."
Dwayne picked up her suitcase and escorted her to the guest room. He opened the door, and she stepped inside.
"Thanks for helping me out of a tight spot, Dwayne. I really appreciate it," she said, her tone sincere.
Dwayne nodded.
"If you need anything to eat or drink, feel free to make yourself at home," he offered.
"I will." Leslie smiled.
He excused himself and headed toward his bedroom.
Once he was in the confinement of his room he decided to go over the evidence he had already gathered for Matteo's case.
He must have fallen asleep at his desk, because he woke up to the inviting aroma of spices wafting through the air.
It stirred dormant emotions in his heart.
The thought of waking up to, or coming home to, the smell of food cooking had always been a distant dream. The only person he'd ever imagined sharing that with was McKenzie.
Despite past relationships, he'd never invited a girlfriend to spend the night, let alone cook for him. Now, here was Leslie, making herself right at home.
Well, she's just following your instructions, bro.
Suddenly, a spine-chilling scream pierced through the air, and Dwayne bolted for the door.