by Misty Evans
“You can’t brainwash me,” she insisted. “It’s sad, you know. For a while, I believed that you honestly wanted to change and get out of the Fifty-seven Gang. I thought you were different, Alfie, but you’re not. You’re cut from the same cloth as Gino and Frankie. No different than my dad. You used and manipulated me, claiming to care about me, about my family. In reality, the only thing you care about is yourself.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m nothing like Gino or Frankie, but maybe I am a little bit like your dad. I do care for you, Olivia, more than you know, and I believe you care for me as well. We have a connection that goes beyond the family. I know we do.”
A part of her wanted to sneer in his face, to yell at him for being an idiot. She was an idiot too, believing even for an instant that he could be human, someone she could rely on to help her wipe out the California mob.
But she wasn’t about to lose her head. If there was any chance of manipulating him the way he had her, this was it. This wasn’t about justice. This was revenge. Sorry for the lecture, Danny. “If you really cared about me, why didn’t you tell me?”
“You wanted something more than a relationship, and I decided to do my best to make it happen. You wanted to wipe out the syndicate, and together we still can. I’ll testify against Gino and Frankie, because I love you and want to make you happy, but I want you to know the truth about Victor Dupé. He does not love you.”
Love? She had to keep her jaw from dropping. Was he serious? “You have a funny way of showing that you love me.”
“You wouldn’t listen to me any other way.”
Oh my god. “You shot my father! I may not like the guy, but you’re the one preaching forgiveness, and I have to admit, I don’t want him dead!”
“It was a warning shot, I didn’t hit him. I put him in your trunk. He’s fine.”
Was that true? How could she believe anything he told her? “You swear you didn’t hurt him? He’s alive?”
“If I’d shot him, he would be dead, Olivia. Like I told you before, hitmen—at least those of us worth our salt—don’t miss. Why would I kill your dad when I’m trying to build a relationship with you?” He leaned forward, his dark eyes searching hers. “Unless you ever do want me to off him. Whatever you want, doll. I mean it. I’m ready to give you the world, Olivia, and help put your demons to rest.”
“The only demon I have at the moment is you.”
“You want to know who killed your brother, don’t you?”
Everything in her went still. “You told me you didn’t know who killed Dezi.”
“The time wasn’t right, but now it is. It’s time you know everything.”
Her vision swam again, and Mother Mary, it was so hot in here. Sweat beaded on the back of her neck, running down her spine. She felt like throwing up. “Just tell me.”
“You’re not going to like it.”
If she could’ve come out of the chair and went across the table to grab him by the throat, she would have. “Stop dicking me around.”
“When Dez came out here, he was working for your father.”
“I already know that.”
“He was here scouting for the Chicago mob, and doing a little drug dealing on the side to line his own pockets. You’re a smart girl, so I’m guessing you can figure out who one of his main buyers was.”
Dez, drugs.
A lump formed in her throat, the connections firing off in her brain despite the pounding. “Tracee,” she croaked.
Alfie looked pleased. “And what do you think Victor did when he finally tracked down his fiancée’s supplier?”
She felt the burn of tears behind her eyes. “He’d have him arrested.”
The flash of car lights splayed across the room. Alfie didn’t take his eyes off her. “Hate to break it to you, Liv, but the man who killed your brother is the same one you’ve been sleeping with.”
“That’s not true.”
Alfie gave her a sad look before he picked up the gun resting on the table and headed for the front door.
“You cannot go in there,” Felix said.
Roman joined in, both giving Victor an earful in stereo. “He’ll kill you.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” All he wanted to do was kick the men out of the car and get to Olivia. “I know what I’m doing.”
He’d driven past the house, saw the lights on. Now he was parked a block behind his house in order to let them out, so they could cross his neighbor’s yard and into his while he went in the front. “I’m wired so you know what’s happening, and I’ll keep him focused on me while you two sneak in the back.” Roman had his key. “Felix, you cover Olivia and get her out as soon as I distract Barone. Roman, you get the girl.”
“And who is going to cover you?” Roman asked.
“I can handle Alfie,” Victor assured him.
In the rearview, Victor saw Felix shaking his head. “I should go in the front. He’s not expecting me and that’ll knock him off his game. Then you two rush in the back door with guns blazing. Or, better yet, Victor pretends to be injured and I drag him to the front door and tell Barone I want to exchange him for Olivia.”
That actually wasn’t a bad idea, but Victor couldn’t risk Felix getting hurt. Regardless of her feelings for her father, Olivia would never forgive him if he let Felix join in this charade and ended up with a bullet in him.
Roman’s phone rang, and he snatched it up. “Winston, whatcha got?”
Victor white knuckled the steering wheel. He didn’t have time for this. The clock was ticking, and Olivia’s life was on the line.
“How soon can you be here?” Roman asked Winston. “Good enough.”
Victor felt like he was going to implode. “I told you not to bring anyone else. We can’t have half of Southern California showing up for this.”
“Don’t worry about who’s coming to the party.” Roman put his phone away. “We’ll go with your plan, but we’ll also have my backup. That’s how this works, Director.”
Great. He was stuck in a pissing match with a Homeland bigwig and a mobster. Somehow, this was not the team he’d imagined working with.
“I know how the guy thinks,” Felix continued to argue. “He may be a few colors short in his crayon box, but I know how to get inside his head.”
“I don’t want to get inside his head,” Victor said. “I want to save Olivia and put Barone behind bars.”
“Behind bars?” Felix looked like Victor had suggested making the man president. “He hurt my daughter. He’s going six feet under.”
Victor sighed, the weight of the world riding his shoulders. “Felix, I want your word you will not kill him.”
He sniffed and stuck his chin in the air. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
“Then I will handcuff you to the door and not let you within thirty feet of Olivia.”
“You can’t…!” the rest of the sentence hung in the air, Felix realizing Victor could indeed do exactly that. He blustered again, mumbling to himself before he met Victor’s eyes in the rearview. “Fine. Whatever.”
But if the opportunity arises… Victor could see Felix would take advantage of it. All bets were off.
“Everybody out,” Victor said.
Roman had the receiver for Victor’s wire. Barone would expect it, and Victor didn’t want to disappoint. Although he might not be able to get into Alfie’s head like Felix thought he could, Victor had more than one trick up his sleeve.
“I could stay hidden in the car,” Roman said, “and come running the moment you need help.”
“The only help I need is for you to get that kid out of the house, and for Felix to do the same with Olivia.”
Roman checked the magazine in his weapon. “I don’t like it.”
“Your confidence in me is reassuring, but I can handle the situation.”
“You just make sure you get my daughter free from that bastard,” Felix said.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. “She’s going to d
ie from old age if you two don’t stop henpecking me and let me get her!”
That seemed to do the trick, both men bailing out and slamming their respective doors shut behind them.
Sighing with relief, Victor reset his brain. Get to Olivia.
As Roman and Felix disappeared into the shadows, Victor cruised around the end of the block and to his driveway. Alfie’s car sat in front of the garage as if he owned the place.
Victor pulled in behind it, making sure the vehicle was blocked in. His headlights shone into the dining room, and through the thin curtains, he could make out a figure sitting at the table. Liv.
For half a second before he killed the lights, Victor stared at the shadowy outline. Even though he couldn’t see her features, his heart sped up, knowing it was her. Every damn time he saw her, it was the same, regardless of the situation. She made him feel alive, wanted.
No matter what happened, he had to make sure she was safe.
Exiting the car, he raised both hands in the air, drizzling rain falling on him. He knew Barone was watching so he turned in a circle letting the man see he was unarmed. The front door opened, but no one stood on the threshold, Alfie playing it safe.
“I’m alone and unarmed,” he called to make sure Barone knew he was playing by the rules. “I’m coming in now.”
The door stayed open, Barone saying nothing. Every survival instinct told Victor not to walk through the door, confirming this was a suicide mission. He understood his instincts that so closely matched Roman’s. If the situation had been different, and it was one of Victor’s taskforce members doing this, he’d have rejected the idea too. It was too risky, too dangerous.
How did I end up here, without any of my agents? Roman was a skilled Homeland agent, but they had never worked in the field together, and then there was Felix—a mafia hitman, who was currently breaking more than a few laws.
But this was Liv inside his house. She didn’t deserve this, and somehow, Victor knew it was his fault. She was here under Alfie’s control because of him. Just like Tracee’s death, this was on his head.
“Don’t come in here, Victor!”
Her voice was clearly strained and frantic as it filtered through the door. The hell she must be going through, all of her plans blowing up in her face and subjecting her to Barone’s crazy and dangerous ambitions. Victor stepped closer, peering into his house. “Don’t worry now, Olivia. Everything’s going to be fine.”
Where was Taz?
If Barone had shot the dog…
Keep your head in the game.
Hands still raised, he stepped across the threshold, scanning to the right where Barone stood behind the door.
“Welcome home, Director,” Alfie said with an affable smile.
Olivia had said he was charming, and he was putting it on full display now. Underneath it, Victor suspected he was shaking in his shoes. The man was a killer because the Fifty-seven Gang had turned him into one, but underneath the skills he’d learned in the mob, he was still a man. A man who had gone to law school, started a family, and lost his wife. A man who had a daughter he wanted to protect and had found a woman to fall in love with again. There was more than just his ambition on the line tonight, and all indications suggested Alfonso Barone didn’t want to see his own hard work go up in flames.
The door shut, and Barone came around to stand eye to eye with Victor. He held a .40 caliber Smith & Wesson.
Victor went into profiler mode, his training as a hostage negotiator kicking in. It hadn’t worked to save Tracee, but he’d succeed this time. “Neither of us wants Olivia to get hurt. Let her go, and I’ll do anything you want.”
A rueful smile twisted the corner of Barone’s lips. He grabbed Victor’s arm and swung him around, patting him down with his free hand. “I want you to tell Olivia the truth.”
Victor was now facing the dining room and he caught a glimpse of her head as she leaned across the table trying to see him. For a second, their eyes met, so much unsaid between them.
The gash on her forehead was bright red, the swelling had increased. The bruise had spread down to her eyebrows.
But it was her eyes that told him how much pain she was in, and it wasn’t from the bump on her head. She was scared. Not for herself, for him.
As their eyes held, he felt suspended. She was so close, all he had to do was walk ten steps to reach her, yet, the physical distance was deceiving when a madman with a gun was between them.
Alfie’s hand slapped Victor’s chest and patted again. “Unbutton your shirt.”
All part of the plan. Victor did as instructed, revealing the hidden wire.
A knowing smirk parted Barone’s lips. “I keep telling Olivia you can’t be trusted.” He ripped the wire off Victor’s skin and held it up in Olivia’s line of sight. “You see this? This is what I’m talking about. He lies and deceives. How can you still believe in him?”
What was he trying to do? Make Victor look like the bad guy instead of himself? Figures. “You said to come alone, you didn’t say anything about not wearing a wire.” When Alfie’s gaze cut back to Victor, Victor gave him a smile, hoping he could see the ‘fuck you’ behind it. “If you’re going to run a family syndicate, Alfie, you’re going to need better communication skills.”
Barone cocked the gun and pressed it to Victor’s temple. Olivia gasped audibly. “Watch your mouth, smartass.” He dropped the wire to the floor and stomped on it. “Who’s outside?”
Victor gave him another fuck you smile. “No one. The receiver is in my car on the seat. Go ahead and check. I was recording you in hopes of getting you to admit you killed Tracee. That was you behind the mask, wasn’t it?”
There was a slight tightening around Alfie’s eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Such a liar.
He grabbed Victor and shoved him toward the dining room. “As long as we’re talking about your ex, why don’t you explain to Olivia how you killed her brother because he was selling drugs to Tracee?”
Victor did a double-take between Olivia, who was tied to a chair, and Barone. “What?”
Alfie held up of a photo in front Victor’s nose. “I have it all right here. Dez was selling to Tracee and you got mad, so you had him killed.”
The picture was fuzzy, and although Victor could pick out his own face, along with Tracee’s, he couldn’t place where it’d been taken or when. The clothes weren’t his, and neither were the shoes. “Nice work, Alfie. Did you do the Photo Shopping on your own or have one of your minions do it?”
A grunt. “Can you believe this guy?” Barone asked Olivia. “I show him the evidence he was in the alley that night and he tries to spin it. I’m telling you, doll, he’s been playing you all along.”
Olivia’s eyes were unfocused. Conflicted and miserable. They pleaded with Victor, and his pulse jumped at the thought she might actually believe the bastard. Her voice wobbled. “It’s not true… Is it?”
Oh my god, was she really buying this? When had he ever given her reason to doubt him? “Of course, it’s not. I never knew your brother, never met him, and he wasn’t dealing to Tracee that I know of. I put Tracee’s dealer in prison. His name is Manuel Leon. You can look it up—oh wait, you can’t because Alfie has you tied to a chair. He’s purposely messing with you, Olivia, and you know it.”
Her eyes dropped to the table and the other pictures there. “I know, but…the evidence…?”
No way. She didn’t actually believe any of this, did she? Victor took a step toward her, but Barone stopped him. “Unh, unh, unh. The game is up, Director. She knows all about your partnership with Gino DeStefano, how he stepped in and helped your family after your father was killed. I’ve shown her the evidence and she knows it all makes sense. You purposely manipulated, seduced, and betrayed her.”
At the mention of his father, everything inside Victor went very still. “What are you talking about? What do you know about my father?”
Alfie grinned.
The fire inside Victor blazed. “Are you saying Gino had my father killed?”
“I see Tracee wasn’t the only actor around here, was she? You’ve been in Gino’s back pocket since you were a kid. He helped you out, got your family back together, and now you help him. That’s why you got close to Olivia, you knew she was working to eliminate Gino and Frankie both. They were worried and sent you to cozy up to her and stop her when the time came.”
“Answer my question. Do you know who killed my father?”
Barone rolled his eyes. “Of course, I do. Who is Gino’s right-hand man and always has been? Even back in the 80s?”
Frankie Molina. Victor felt like he’d been gutted. The man had been under his nose for years and he’d never put two and two together. “How do you know it was Frankie? Maybe it was your dear old sack-of-shit dad.”
That got under Barone’s skin. His jaw tightened, and he put the gun against Victor’s skull again. “I told you to watch your mouth. Your father was a wimp, a milquetoast. He tried to stand up to Gino, tried to keep the union from caving, and look what it got him? A bullet to the head, leaving behind his whole family! He knew it could happen, and he still refused to cooperate. What kind of man puts his pride before his family? What kind of man leaves his wife and kids behind instead of looking the other way over a few measly dollars from the company funds?”
Victor ground his teeth. “He was a man of integrity if he wasn’t about to be bought off by a bunch of criminals.”
“Yeah, I bet his integrity is keeping him company in his grave. Meanwhile, you and your sisters grew up without a father, and he’s the reason your mother was crippled. She had no one but the head of the mafia family to help her.”
He had heard all he could take. He stepped toward Barone, disregarding the cold steel against his head. Victor was taller and stared down into the man’s hard eyes. “My mother and I never took a handout from Gino DeStefano or any other criminal, and I’ve heard enough bullshit from your mouth.”
He took another step, bearing down on the man, and heard Olivia suck in a breath. “You know Olivia doesn’t believe this crap, otherwise you wouldn’t have kidnapped her and tied her to a chair. The game is up. You want a go at me? Fine, let’s do it, but you take off her restraints and let her pick between us.”