by Nicole Fox
“Don’t bury them,” Lucio instructs. “Put them in the incinerator.”
“Got it, boss.”
“How many do we have in total?”
“Twenty-one. Including Bartek.”
“We got them all?”
“Every single one. I made sure of that.”
“Good.” Lucio sounds far from satisfied, though. “That’s one thing taken care of. Now for the hard part.”
“We have to make our move before the Polish coalesce around Kazimierz,” Adriano sighs.
“I agree,” Lucio says. “If we give them a chance to re-group, we’re going to find ourselves in a bloody war.”
I shudder.
What have I done?
Twenty-one dead men. Maybe some of them deserved death. Maybe some didn’t.
Either way, I never wanted to be the one to cost them their lives.
“First things first…”
The rest of the sentence is drowned out by my own gasp.
I can feel a hand wrap around my ankle and I freeze, a scream trapped in my throat.
But when I look down, I see it’s just Evie’s little face looking up at me with surprise.
“Charlotte?” she asks, confused by my reaction.
“Shh!” I scold, holding my trembling finger up to my lips. “Evie, be quiet.”
She nods slowly and gets to her feet. I take her hand and we walk back upstairs towards the room.
“What are you doing out of bed?” I ask.
“I woke up and you weren’t there,” she tells me accusingly. “So I came looking for you. Enzo wasn’t around, either.”
“Yeah, I think he’s busy tonight, sweetie.”
“What time is it?” she asks.
“Good question,” I say, glancing around for a clock.
I find one just as we approach the floor of our room. It’s almost three in the morning, which means I managed to get a few hours of sleep, disturbed as it was.
“It’s still nighttime,” I tell Evie.
“Aww! But I’m ready to get this show on the road,” she says, all serious.
I smile down at her. That’s what I say to her every morning when I wake her up—Let’s get this show on the road. Hearing her say it makes me feel for a second like everything is okay. Like everything is normal.
Even when it’s clearly fucking not.
“Evie,” I say gently. “It’s still super late and I’m really tired. We need to sleep. You definitely do.”
“But I’m not sleepy anymore.”
“How about we just lie in bed for a while and swap stories?” I suggest.
“Like Jack and the Beanstalk?”
“Sure. Or a made-up story.”
“Made up by who?”
I laugh. “By you, Evie.”
“Oh,” she smiles sheepishly. “I’m not good at making up stories.”
“I highly doubt that,” I say confidently. “Give it a try and see. You might be better than you think you are.”
“Okay,” Evie agrees, and I can tell she’s getting excited about the prospect of trying now that the idea is in her head.
We get inside Evie’s room and climb into her huge bed.
Evie sits up while I lay back, and then she begins her made-up story. It’s a good one, too. Bright. Vibrant. Adventurous and curious.
Just like her.
I only wish my attention isn’t so split. I could have enjoyed it more.
But all I can think of is the meeting going on downstairs.
All I can think of is Lucio’s face when he killed Bartek.
I’ve never seen rage like that before.
I’m not sure I ever want to see it again.
But I know I’m being naïve. I’ve done so many things to deserve Lucio’s anger. I betrayed his trust. Lied to him.
And he has made it abundantly clear that he’s not the forgiving type.
I know I should tell him.
There’s no pretending we’re still living in our happy little bubble. That’s been burst, no doubt about it.
I haven’t wanted to admit it, because that would have also meant admitting how far down the rabbit hole I’d fallen. But there’s no escaping it anymore.
Lucio and Evie… they are the closest I’ve ever come to a happy family.
I’m aware of how ridiculous that is. Especially considering we’re not a family. Not even close.
But apparently, I’m a stickler for denial.
Like my mother.
And, just like her, I know I’m going to end up alone.
Liars don’t get happy endings.
34
Lucio
“It’s risky.”
I whirl on Adriano, fists tight and jaw clenched.
He’s done nothing to deserve it. But I’m on edge and bristling for a fight.
“What choice do we fucking have?” I demand of him. “Eh? Tell me, man. Let’s hear your big, genius plan.”
He holds his hands up, but he remains unfazed. “I’m just asking—have we really gone through all our options?”
“You’re the one who wanted a war.”
“I didn’t want a war like this,” Adriano replies, gesturing to nowhere in particular. “I just didn’t want to make a fucking peace treaty with those bastards. Didn’t mean I wanted a full-scale massacre, either.”
I grimace. “You’re splitting hairs and you know it.”
“And you’re running on emotion right now.”
He’s lucky there’s no one else around right now. Because best friend or not, I’m about to kick his ass right out of my goddamn house.
“The hell are you talking about?” I snap.
We’re seated on either side of the table, but I’m keyed up enough to lunge across and start a brawl here and now.
“Oh, come on!” Adriano says, refusing to back down. “You’re doing this for the girl.”
“Charlotte?”
“No, Audrey fucking Hepburn,” Adriano scoffs. “Of course, Charlotte. The woman’s got you completely turned around.”
I shake my head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re telling me she doesn’t mean a thing to you?” His eyes shine with intensity.
“No,” I reply firmly, looking him right in the face. “She’s an employee.”
“An employee you take out for laser tag,” Adriano throws back at me. “Gee, why wasn’t I invited?”
“Because Evie doesn’t like you.”
“Whoa, that’s below the belt.”
At that, the anger peaks and begins to recede.
Fucking Adriano. He’s the only one who gets to push my buttons like this and get away with it.
Smug bastard knows it, too.
I just barely manage not to smile. Instead, I sigh heavily and press my forehead into my hands for a moment.
“Trying to hit the entire Polish mob in one night… Lucio, it’s fucking insane,” Adriano says seriously.
“We’re not gonna get them all, I’m aware of that,” I say. “But we can take out enough of them to make a difference. Like it or not, there is going to be a war. The least we can do is make sure they’re outnumbered.”
Adriano stares at me for a moment, trying to determine just how rational my argument is.
At last, he exhales loudly and nods.
“Okay, I guess that’s our best bet at this point,” he concedes. “Right now, we have the element of surprise. But goddamn, you are a stubborn son of a bitch.”
“I learned from the best,” I chuckle, clapping him on the shoulder. I take to my feet. “We need to move, though. It’s time to get this shit going. Where is Giovanni?”
“Here, boss,” Giovanni calls, walking into the living room from the open sliding doors that connect to the garden.
“Time for tactics,” I announce. “Identify their main hangouts, their patrol routes. Where are they strong? Where are they weak?”
“I’ve got it narrowed down to four different spot
s,” Giovanni answers intelligently. “The warehouse on Bleeker, the safehouse on Mulholland, Pretty’s, that tacky fucking club next to the strip joint, and Szymon’s. That’s the restaurant downtown that Bartek owns. Did own, I should say. It’s frequented by his underbosses.”
“That’s where I’m headed,” I decide immediately. “Adriano, you’re with me.”
“Hell yes,” he hoots.
He may have wanted to avoid a war, but when bloodshed becomes inevitable, there’s no one I’d rather have at my side than Adriano.
He’s been with me from my first days as don. We’ve fought together. Bled together. Won and lost together.
He’s as good as they come.
So, despite everything else that’s going on, when I see Adriano’s eyes flashing with excitement, I can’t help but grin.
“Good. That’s settled. Then let’s—”
My words break off when I notice a shadow lurking on the landing of the staircase.
Who the…?
I catch a glimpse of her dark hair before she whips back and out of my line of sight.
“Boss?”
Both of the men in the room are looking up at me, waiting for further instructions.
I shake my head to try and get back on track. “Uh… Adriano, you hand the teams their instructions,” I order in a strained voice. “It’s full force tonight, got it?”
“Got it.”
I nod, dismissing him at the same time as I move towards the staircase.
“Wait—where are you going?” Adriano asks incredulously.
“I’m gonna go take a piss,” I snap. “Why, were you gonna come hold it for me?”
He holds his hands up in the air. “You do your thing, mio amico. Godspeed and all that. Put the seat down when you’re done.”
I roll my eyes and sweep out of the room without bothering to retort.
As I ascend the staircase, I notice her shadow cast up on the wall. She’s trying to sneak away.
“Charlotte, I know you’re there.”
A couple of seconds of silence fill the space between us, and then she steps out onto the landing.
“I swear I wasn’t eavesdropping.”
I glower at her. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Seriously,” she says fervently.
Do I believe her? Or is she a liar?
“That what are you doing here?” I ask.
“I…”
She walks down the steps towards me, and we meet on the narrow landing. The shock has worn off, but she still looks pale.
“I wanted to talk to you,” she tells me. “But now I don’t know what I wanted to say.”
“Maybe you’ll remember when I get back,” I say, looking over my shoulder. “I have to go.”
“Okay.”
Something about her voice catches my attention.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
The blue in her eyes dulls a little bit. “I’m better now,” she says cautiously, and then she adds, “I think.”
“Give it time.”
I’m turning away when I feel her hand on my arm. “Lucio.”
“Yeah?” I glance back at her over my shoulder.
“Don’t get hurt.”
All I do is nod.
Then I shake her hand off me and head down the stairs.
I can’t afford to be distracted tonight. This isn’t about anything other than making a fucking statement.
Maintaining control.
Sending a message.
This is my motherfucking city.
Anyone who thinks otherwise should prepare for war.
A caravan of armored jeeps is parked in front when I walk out of the house. Adriano is standing in front of the first one. My remaining underbosses have each commandeered the remaining three.
“Ready, boys?” I ask, raising my voice into a battle cry.
“Let’s go, boss!” Adriano roars. He throws his fist in the air. The rest of the men follow suit.
We pile in the vehicles and rumble out through the compound’s armored gates.
“Do we have eyes on the restaurant?” I ask Adriano.
“Riccardo’s on it. It’s closed to the public right now, but Bartek’s men are still there,” Adriano confirms.
“How many?”
“Two of his underbosses, and ten of their men,” Adriano says, checking on his intel.
Twelve of their men. Fifteen of mine.
This shit is gonna be too fucking easy.
The roads are empty. There’s only a few random cars, a few drunken people swaying their way down the street. We make it to the restaurant in record time.
“Park out of sight,” I instruct the driver. “If they see the vehicles, they’ll have time to get geared up.”
He does as I say. The moment we’re parked, I’m out of the jeep, leading my men towards the restaurant.
The doors will be locked, but we’re not really planning on using them anyway.
My men are waiting on me to give the signal.
I hold up my fist. Everyone freezes in place while I survey the scene.
The restaurant is garishly decorated, but the giant front window allows an unadulterated view inside. I can see three men sitting in the center of the restaurant, but I’m certain there’s more.
I glance behind my shoulder and nod.
Now.
And on that cue, every man at my command raises his gun and unleashes holy fucking hell on the bastards who dared to lay a finger on Charlotte.
Who dared to come in my house.
To touch my woman. To threaten my mafia.
They’re all going to die.
Glass explodes in a blizzard of shards.
I see my victims’ eyes fall on me mere instants before they’re ruthlessly cut down.
By the time the glass window has shattered on the ground, all three men sitting around the table are dead. Extremely fucking dead, by the looks of them.
But their comrades appear from the crevices of the restaurant with their guns drawn.
I duck to the side now that they’re returning fire. The first barrage whistles past us without finding its mark.
When they stop to reload, I make my move.
My men provide cover fire as I leap through the space in the wall where the window was. The remaining jagged pieces of glass slice open my pants and draw blood from the skin underneath.
But I ignore it. I keep my eyes focused on the Polish rats crawling out of the woodwork.
I spot about six men huddled in the corners. They’re firing back desperately, but there’s no strategy in their attack. No leadership.
The surprise has fucked with their heads.
Just like we intended.
I feel Adriano at my back as we close in on the bastards. I shoot two and Adriano takes down one.
But no sooner are they dead than another three come stumbling into the fray.
“There’s one in the rear calling for back-up!” someone shouts over the rage of gunfire. “Cops will be here in ten!”
“We’ll be out of here in nine,” I yell back, shooting another Polish asshole in the head.
“Lucio, get down!” Adriano bellows.
I duck to the side just in time to avoid the kill shot.
But I feel pain erupt along my arm.
I just keep shooting until the gunshots subside as each Polish soldier hits the ground, riddled with Mazzeo bullets.
And then silence takes back over.
By my watch, it’s been seven minutes since we blew the window in.
I take stock of the bodies on the floor as I step over them.
“Is that it?” I ask breathlessly, still riding the adrenaline wave.
“Seems to be,” Adriano says, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“Check the back,” I instruct my men. “And the bodies.”
“Clear!” Giovanni shouts from the rear of the restaurant a moment later.
Adriano grabs me by the shoulder and gestures at my left arm. “Ba
stards got you,” he remarks.
I glance down at the dribble of blood soaking through my shirt. The fabric is in tatters where the bullet passed through. The pain is hot but not unbearable.
I shrug. “It’s a graze. Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Anytime, brother.” He winks. “You can buy me a beer to show your gratitude.”
“All the bodies are here, boss,” Stefano informs me. “We got all the bastards.”
“Okay,” I say. “Let’s move out. The cops will be here soon.”
Seconds later, we’re back in our vehicles driving back to the compound.
The war with the Polish has begun.
If I have my way, it won’t last much longer than this.
35
Charlotte
I’ve been pacing for almost half an hour now. My body cannot seem to stay still for any length of time.
Evie had been so pumped up with telling stories that it took her two hours to fall asleep. So now, it’s early morning and she’s out cold.
And as for me…
I keep seeing Lucio sprawled dead in the middle of nowhere surrounded by grinning Polish mafiosos.
I keep imagining them attacking the compound. Taking Evie and me hostage.
I try to turn my head off, but it’s just not shutting down.
And then I hear it: the sound of approaching vehicles.
The windows from my bedroom only offer a view of the backyard. So I run out and downstairs, hoping to find Lucio there with his men.
I spot Adriano first. He looks sweaty and tired, but otherwise no worse for the wear.
“Adriano!” I blurt, moving forward. “Where’s Lucio?”
One corner of his mouth quirks up a little in what might be a teasing smile. I might have been annoyed by that if I wasn’t so worried.
“Outside,” he says, gesturing towards the door.
I’m just about to bolt outside when Lucio’s broad silhouette appears at the door. The sun’s obscuring the details of his features, and it isn’t until he steps forward that I see the blood staining his arm.
“You’re hurt!”
He seems surprised to see me here. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here,” I remind him.
“It’s early,” he points out. “I meant, what are you doing out of bed?”