Honor (Made Book 1)

by Melissa Ellen

  “You can’t go in there!” the receptionist of EAM Security yelled, hurrying around her desk as she chased after me. “He’s in a meeting.”

  I ignored her, continuing my march toward Eric’s office. After one hard knock, I opened the door without waiting for a response. I didn’t slow my stride until I was only a few feet from the filled chairs in front of his desk.

  The assistant skidded to a stop at the opening behind me, nearly out of breath. “I told her she needed an appointment,” she huffed, crossing her arms.

  Eric’s gaze went from them to me before he looked back at the two extremely built gentlemen in the chairs in front of him. “We’ll finish this later,” he told them, and they stood to leave without a word.

  As they exited and the door closed with a click, Eric sat back in his chair casually. “Special Agent Rhodes, what can I do for you?”

  “I know they’re alive.”

  “Who?”

  “All of them.” I closed in on him, jabbing my finger forcefully on the top corner of his desk. “Lena, Mario, Maria, Gia.”

  “I wish that were true,” he said mildly.

  “If they aren’t, then explain to me how I have four supposedly dead people but zero bodies. How did a nearly dead man show up in my locked apartment with a name tag that says ‘Hi, my name is Tommy’ two days after they all died?”

  His expression and body language gave nothing away. I didn’t expect them to.

  “Where are they?” I tried again.

  “How would I know? I suspect your team will come up with their bodies sooner or later. Or maybe not. I’ve heard incompetence is rampant inside the bureau.”

  I ground my teeth. “He couldn’t have pulled this off on his own.”

  “And what is it exactly that you think he did?”

  I narrowed my eyes, crossing my arms with clenched fists. “We can help them. Tell him to come in. We’ll protect them.”

  He appraised me for a moment before taking a deep inhale and leaning onto his elbows on top of his desk. “If what you believe were the case, and let’s be very clear, I’m not saying it is, you and I both know that protection from the bureau would keep them as safe as the locked cell did his father.” He stood, rounding the desk to stand in front of me.

  I took a step back, looking up at his intimidating form.

  “Do yourself a favor, Special Agent Rhodes, go home. Get some rest. You look like shit. My guess is you haven’t slept in days. Then go into the office, thank the heavens for giving you Tommy and the biggest break in your career, and move on with your life. Chasing ghosts will get you nowhere.”

  “That’s your advice?”

  “It’s the best you’re going to get.”

  “And if I don’t? If I continue to look for answers?”

  “Then, that’s your choice. My advice was not intended as a threat. We are on the same side. It’s purely out of professional courtesy. You’re an excellent agent, Rhodes. I don’t want to see you lose focus on the more important things.”

  I dropped my arms and turned away to leave. I wasn’t going to get anything from him. I’d known it before I even came, but a part of me hoped I could somehow break him.

  “Rhodes,” he called from behind me.

  I twisted my head to look at him. He leaned his backside onto the edge of his desk with his arms over his chest. “I meant what I said. You’re a good agent, one of the best I’ve met. If you ever think about leaving the bureau, I have a position that needs filling.”

  I considered his offer for a moment, before asking, “Better than Maxwell?”

  He chuckled, the first break in his formidable exterior. “Yeah. But if he ever asks, I’ll deny I ever said it.”

  I grinned. “See ya soon, Eric.”

  It was another twelve hours before Tommy came to and was well enough to give us everything we needed, including the code to unlock the thumb drive, to lessen his sentence. It was enough to arrest Matteo Moretti and few of his men that Tommy could name and identify.

  Unfortunately, the two men I wanted the most were still untouchable. Lorenzo Ricci had somehow managed to keep his hands clean of the deal and Matteo Moretti was missing. I had a good feeling he’d never be seen or heard from again, the same as his daughter.

  As Mandy ran circles in front of me, I sat on the edge of my bed, pulling on my running shoes.

  “One second, girl.” I roughed a hand near her ear, rubbing her favorite spot as I stood.

  Picking up her leash, I knelt in front of her, latching it onto the ring on her collar. We’d both been in desperate need of a run, her because she’d been cooped up for days with the hours I’d been working and me because it always helped me clear my mind.

  I led her out the front door, pulled it shut, and locked it, checking it twice. I still wasn’t sure how Tommy had managed to be delivered inside my place without any signs of forced entry, and knowing someone had managed to do so had left me uneasy over the last few days.

  I turned right out of my apartment building, starting in the direction of our usual route. After a few miles, I found myself running off-course, my feet carrying me in the direction I’d wandered toward often, lately—both mentally and physically. Despite Eric’s suggestion that day in his office, I couldn’t let it go.

  My pace slowed as we rounded the corner. I pulled back on Mandy’s leash, bringing her to a stop across the road from the former Leoni’s restaurant. Construction crews had started work on clearing debris now that the forensics team had finished gathering what they needed.

  Mandy lowered to her hind legs, panting. As she caught her breath, I watched them remove the larger pieces with an excavator, dumping them in the back of a truck. Mandy whimpered beside me, begging for my attention.

  I squatted, rubbing her head. “Okay, girl. We’ll head home,” I promised, giving her a little more attention behind the ears.

  She licked at my arms, making me smile. I raised, taking one last glance at the rubble, stilling when a large beam was lifted, revealing a metal door in the cellar. Tugging at Mandy’s leash, I looked both ways before sprinting across the street.

  I tied Mandy to the post before wading through the debris.

  “Hey, lady!” one of the workers hollered. “You can’t be here!”

  I kept moving, dismissing his warnings. The loud roar of the machine engine died as he jumped down to chase after me. I quickly ran down the stairs into the now exposed cellar, heading straight for the door we’d missed before.

  “Lady, what do ya think you’re doing?” he barked, stopping a few feet away. He lifted his hard hat, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

  I reached for my badge, cursing that I didn’t have it on me. “I’m with the FBI,” I explained. “I need you to help me open this door.” I pointed at it.

  His expression was incredulous as he appraised me. “I don’t care if you’re Wonder Woman, you can’t be in here without a hard hat.”

  Taking the three steps to him, I snatched the hard hat from his head, placing it on mine. “There. Now open that damn door.”

  Shaking his head, he walked over to it, yanking on the handle. I wanted to roll my eyes at his stupidity. I already knew it’d be locked, it’s why I hadn’t bothered myself.

  “Can you use your machinery to bust through?”

  Taking a step back, he stared at the damn thing a few minutes as he caught his breath, his over-sized belly heaving. “Sure. Just do me a favor and stand back behind the barricades.”

  I didn’t argue. I stood beside Mandy as he worked. Once he had it open and the machine cleared, I finally had the proof I needed. I walked slowly to the opening, stopping to stare down the underground tunnel, smiling to myself. I reached for the phone in my running shorts, scrolling to Maxwell’s number. My thumb hovered over his name as I stared at it.

  I didn’t know what made me hesitate. But that moment of hesitation changed my mind. I lowered the phone, staring once again down the tunnel.

  “Shit,” th
e construction worker said, walking up beside me. I’d almost forgotten he was there. “The guys always talk about uncovering secret tunnels, but this is the first one I’ve seen myself… Where do you think it leads?”

  I shrugged. “To a new life. To freedom.”

  He turned his head slowly, his confused gaze on my profile. “You’re a strange one.”

  I laughed, handing him back his hard hat and turning away from him. He wasn’t the first man to tell me that and probably wouldn’t be the last. Not many men could understand my obsession with cases. It’s likely why I was still single.

  I walked back toward Mandy, feeling lighter than before.

  “Come on, baby. Let’s go home.” I untied Mandy’s leash with a big smile.

  Feeling like someone was watching me, I lifted my head. The construction worker was already climbing back on his excavator, his focus back on his job. I scanned the street as the odd feeling grew, not seeing anyone I recognized. I began to brush it off until I caught a glance of a man’s back, one I swore resembled Mario Leoni.

  The old me would’ve chased after him, but I decided to take Eric’s advice and not chase ghosts. “Good luck, Mario,” I whispered as I stared after him, watching the man quickly disappear around the corner.

  Turning the opposite direction, I took off in a sprint, Mandy running beside me the whole way home.

  22

  Mario

  72 HOURS EARLIER…

  Some might say I was a victim of circumstance. The truth was, I was no victim, but the creator. I made a choice the day I decided to return home from California. It was then that the plan was contrived, perfected, and set in motion.

  To the outside, I would look like the puppet rather than the puppet master. But I’d been pulling the strings from the moment my feet once again touched the pavement of the streets of New York. Every moment had been carefully coordinated. Every outcome predicted and analyzed. Every kink in the plan ironed out and turned into a benefit.

  Protecting others was my job. Saving lives an honor. The unique skill of reading people, understanding how their minds worked, and how they would instinctively react when put in any given situation, a talent I was born with.

  I was a soldier first and always. In war, I vowed to do horrible things to save the people I loved.

  This was my war. And I’d win it with skill, not luck.

  Moretti and Lorenzo were the enemy. Everyone else were casualties, but not one of them innocent. I’d known the enemy my whole life. Studied them for years, watching from a distance.

  Moretti was an arrogant man. One who’d feasted on the fear of others for many years. The more people who feared him, the more arrogant he became. It was his strength and his weakness. His inflated arrogance made him believe that no man would dare cross him. He believed himself invincible, untouchable as the boss of the family. It, along with his undying faith in loyalty, would be his downfall.

  Lorenzo had always been a greedy bastard, a possessive prick. Even as a small child, he stole toys and candies from other kids. Much of it stemmed from jealousy, and the fact that he had no respect for others, especially authority. He was born and raised as an entitled dick. But underneath it all, he was just a scared, insecure bastard, always looking for affirmation.

  Between all those qualities, it was no surprise he wanted to be boss. He’d trick, lie, cheat, and even kill his own father to work his way up the chain, Moretti none the wiser the entire time. But Lorenzo was also a patient man, smart, calculated. He knew the law of the five families. He couldn’t touch Moretti without putting a target on his own back.

  I knew them inside and out, knew what made them tick, knew how their sick fucking minds worked. They’d unknowingly laid the track for my plan themselves. All I had to do was set the train in motion.

  I wasn’t arrogant enough to think I could do it on my own. A soldier is stronger with his brothers at his side. I needed Eric. As soon as he was on board, I had the resources and the connection to the FBI.

  Dennis Farrell’s suicide was the key. It was the hardest to pull off and one of the few casualties I had remorse for, besides my father and uncle. It’s one that would eat at me every waking hour for the rest of my life, but it was the most vital. It was my back-up plan. A guarantee if something happened to me, the ones I loved had a chance, a way out.

  Finding Farrell was easy. I’d been doing recon on Moretti when I first learned of him. For the same reasons Agent Rhodes, who I’d seen doing surveillance in a parked car, had me investigating him further. Farrell was careless with his dark secrets: gambling, drugs, child prostitution. It took less than a week to figure out he was in too deep. He was a weak man who was already struggling with his demons. Through hacked security cameras, I’d watched him more than once attempt to take his own life, only to chicken out at the last minute.

  All the man needed was a little persuasion, some convincing that suicide was his only way out. During one late-night encounter on the street outside his office, I made him believe I was one of Moretti’s men. I delivered a brief threat: “You have twenty-four hours,” before disappearing under the dark blanket of the night. If the statement wasn’t enough, I figured showing him the gun hidden at my side would be.

  I had no idea how he was tied to Moretti at the time, but given my knowledge of Moretti, I figured the threat was general enough to still have the impact I needed. I was right.

  The next step, a phone call to confirm a fake reservation for Farrell. It was the small bone a hound dog like Agent Rhodes would need. I’d studied her file long enough to know she wouldn’t accept a suicide easily.

  From there, I controlled and manipulated the enemy at every turn. I used Moretti and Lorenzo as weapons against each other and themselves.

  Moretti’s arrogance and his fondness for my family’s history of loyalty would make him trust me when he normally wouldn’t. I had no doubt Lorenzo’s jealousy and the deep-seated rivalry between our families would force him to turn against Moretti sooner rather than later. Lorenzo would take out Moretti for me.

  There were contingency plans in place, of course. One being Declan Connolly. He was a much harder man to hunt down. I’d heard rumors about him and his vengeance for Moretti. When I’d finally found him and learned who he was to Lena, we struck a deal. He’d protect Lena and assist me when I needed if I made sure Moretti was dead at the end. I called in my favor the night I killed three of his men, instead of the one we agreed on, earning me my spot in the family. What could I say? Sometimes shit didn’t go as planned, but I rolled with it.

  Like discovering the GPS tracker Lorenzo had planted in Lena’s engagement ring the day we spent in the hotel room at the Vivian. Although a pain in my ass, it worked in my favor. It’s what saved her life. She’d left the ring in the restaurant while her, my ma, and sister snuck out undetected through a tunnel my ancestors had used during prohibition. That same technology saved my life.

  “Come on, Leoni. Breathe dammit.” Eric’s voice broke through my memories of Lena. Seconds later, a blow to my chest had me coughing up the water in my lungs.

  Rolling to my side, I gasped and half-coughed, half-vomited more dirty water onto the floor. Eric’s feet came into my view as he wrapped a warming blanket around me, helping to fight off any potential risk of hypothermia.

  “Fuck, man.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “You gave me a scare there for a minute.”

  “How long was I under?” I used my elbows to help me sit up, pulling the blanket tighter around me before dropping my pounding head into my hands. The rocking of the boat didn’t help my mind’s lack of equilibrium.

  “Nearly seven minutes.”

  “Took you long enough,” I joked through my coughing, knowing much longer—possibly seconds—and I would’ve died.

  “It’s not my fault the assholes decided to stick around for a smoke. I almost started to shoot every damn one of them just to make sure I got to you in time.”

  I smiled, knowing Eric was the best
fucking friend a man could have.

  “You good?” he asked after assessing me for a minute. He’d already stripped out of his diving gear, his wetsuit unzipped and only covering the lower half of his body.

  “I’m good.”

  “Glad to hear it. Because you owe me a fucking drink.”

  I chuckled, removing the watch from my wrist. “I owe you more than a drink.” I handed him the small gadget that saved my life. Without the waterproof GPS tracker inside, he’d never have found me, at least not until it was too late.

  He took it from me, placing it on the dash as he got behind the steering wheel of the boat, cranking the engine alive. “I still think you’re lucky they didn’t just shoot you.”

  With a wide turn, he pointed the bow back toward the city, cutting through the water at a high speed.

  “How are the girls?” I asked Eric as he drove the car. He’d had a clean pair of clothes for me to change into and promised to destroy the others.

  “A little shaken, but all of them putting on brave faces. Heads up though, I think your mother might kill you herself when she sees you.”

  That sounded about right.

  “She can kill me when we’re done.”

  “As long as I get my drink before then,” he goaded once again. “I didn’t dive in the Hudson to pull your ass out for nothing.”

  “You’ll get your drink,” I assured him, shaking my head with a smirk. “I’ll buy you a whole damn bottle.”

  He chuckled, turning into the EAM Security parking garage, taking us underground.

  “Any word from Maxwell?”

  “Last I heard, they had Prescott in custody, but he isn’t talking. Rhodes sent a couple of agents to your house shortly after you hung up on her. My guess is she’ll have the whole damn bureau sweeping the streets to find you soon.”