by Piper Stone
“Where the hell is recovery?” Relief flooded me, but the adrenaline remained high.
“Are you family?”
“Her fiancé.”
The news seemed shocking, her face sagging. “You can see her through the glass. Through those doors and down the hall.”
“Thank you.” I wasted no time, half jogging through the double doors, bolting into the recovery area. I could see her through the glass window, her lovely face bruised. She was so frail in comparison to the last time I’d seen her. I was furious, vowing to find the asshole. There was no one close to stop me.
I walked in, enraged hearing the beeps and clicks of the various monitors. Every step I took closer yanked my heart into a cesspool of loathing. There were no chairs, no acknowledgment of possible visitors. I crouched down, taking her frigid hand. Leaning over, I pressed a series of kisses, surprised when a tear slipped past my lashes.
“I promise you I will find the fucker who did this to you. There is no place the asshole can hide.”
She didn’t react in any manner, but at least her breathing was calm.
“I know you were trying to protect me in some crazy manner. Whatever is in this box, we’ll discover together. I’ll find it and keep it safe until you’re better. And I promise you I’ll protect you for the rest of your life.” I pressed my lips against her skin, wanting more than anything to be able to tell her just how much the painting had meant to me. The beauty and serenity of the piece would forever remain in my mind.
“I know you won’t believe me, Caroline. There’s no reason you should, but I love you. You’ve broken through the steel surrounding my heart.” I laughed and the sound was so hollow, just like the majority of the man hiding inside. “You are my life.”
I wanted her to laugh, cry, or berate me in her usual manner. The silence was deafening. If she didn’t recover, there was no one partially responsible who would withstand my fury. I kissed her hand again, shoving my sadness away. I had work to do. As I stood, squeezing her hand one last time, an odd sensation swept through my body. Lifting my gaze, I was shocked that her eyes were fully open, her pupils locked on me. “Hi.”
She blinked once, at least acknowledging I was here.
“Everything is going to be all right. You just need to rest.”
Caroline slid her gaze down from my face and back up. I could easily tell she was questioning where I’d been.
“It’s a long story, baby. I have some things to do but I’ll be back. Okay?”
Blinking again, this time there was significant sadness in her eyes.
I lifted her arm enough to place her hand over my heart. The single tear sliding down her cheek forced a slight growl from my lips. I backed away, trying to give her a reassuring smile. I turned around, the rage overtaking me once again.
“I... love... you.”
The three words cut through everything. Through my anger. Through my heartache. Through my need for revenge. She was innocent and pure, and I refused to drag her into the horror of my world any further.
I walked out, slamming my hand on the wall before sliding against it and closing my eyes.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Drummand’s voice was full of fury.
The fucker. What surprised me were his scattered mannerisms, the unbuttoned collar and skewed tie, the way his hands were shaking. If I didn’t know better, I’d believe he not only was terrified for his daughter but hadn’t been the one issuing the order to run them down.
I snarked as I walked closer, “She’s my fiancée.”
“That’s bullshit, Dominick. You should be behind bars.”
“You and I both knew the evidence wouldn’t stand. And what I share with your daughter will never include you. I suggest you allow her to rest. I’m certain she has no desire to see you. You are responsible for this. You might have hidden behind hired goons to do your dirty work, but I assure you, your crimes will be exposed.”
Drummand shook his head before running his fingers through his usually perfect hair. I could smell liquor on his breath, the stench of his sweat assaulting my nostrils. He disgusted me in several ways. “I would never intentionally hurt her. She’s still my daughter and no matter what you believe, I love her.”
What fucking lies.
“Then show your love by getting and staying out of her life,” I hissed, glaring him in the eyes. “You made a deal with the devil and no matter what you believe, that will stand. You will be hearing from my family’s attorney and trust me, if you wanted a fight, you have one in spades, Senator Hargrove. Now, get the hell out of here.”
I heard the string of cuss words as he walked away, and I was happy that the man was rattled. I planned on doing a hell of a lot more, including ruining every aspect of his life.
As I walked out of the hospital, I dialed Jo-Jo. Finding out about the contents of the box was paramount. When the call went to voicemail, a cold wave skittered down my spine, my instinct working overtime. Then I called Angelo.
“Find Jo-Jo now. Bring him to me.”
“What’s wrong, Dom?” Angelo asked, anxiousness in his tone.
“We will see. As soon as you find him, contact me.” I ended the call, my heart racing as I headed for the SUV. If my gut was correct, all the shit was about to hit the fan, which would mean those involved in the con were running scared. Mistakes would be made.
The end game was near. Trust had been broken.
Time for me to take full control.
* * *
At ten minutes past high noon, I found the fucker, a man I thought I could trust coming out of the district attorney’s office by the back door. My hunch had played out. I sat in the shadows, watching as Jo-Jo hunkered down, yanking the collar of his coat up over his neck. He walked toward his truck, the massive F-350 one he insisted on driving. The front-end damage was actually minimal in comparison to the destruction on the SUV. He obviously didn’t give a shit that anyone would ask questions. I’d driven by the impound lot, able to see the twisted wreckage that had once been a fully protected vehicle.
And my anger continued to increase.
I twisted one hand around the steering wheel, the other around my phone, calling Angelo. “I’ve found him.”
“Where?”
“At a location where he shouldn’t have been. Meet me at the warehouse with a full crew in one hour. We’ll take care of this.”
“That shithead. What the hell?”
“Absolution.” Jo-Jo had no family, nothing to keep him loyal for any length of time. However, what was disturbing is that he’d been with my father for years, shifting to my crew only recently. If I remember correctly, he’d once worked for Carmine. How much damning information had he been able to gather, sharing with the Feds? I would certainly find out.
There was no controlling my desire for revenge, no method of curtailing what was required to happen. No one on my crew would ever be allowed to get away with something this egregious.
I followed him, knowing exactly where he was headed after the third turn. He was stupid enough to go back to his house. The long tree-lined driveway hid the small brick enclosure from prying eyes, a location I’d been to on several occasions, even drinking a cold one or two on the man’s back deck. There was no sense of why he’d turned, the lying sack of shit truly considered part of my family. He was paid well, offered several perks and his betrayal cut like a knife.
I waited for a few minutes before easing down the gravel driveway. The man was arrogant, refusing any kind of basic security. That allowed me to walk inside without advance warning. I held the gun in both hands, finding him in his bedroom, the suitcase on the bed, the man dumping clothes.
A slight creak of the old wooden floor and he had his weapon in his hand in a flash, turning sharply. There was no look of surprise, only an expression of resignation, his hand shaking.
“Dom.”
“Jo-Jo. Fascinating that you were the one all along.”
He twisted his mouth, spittle s
pewing as he attempted to talk. “I don’t know what to say. They forced me to do it. They knew everything. Everything. They were going to put me away for life. I didn’t tell them shit. I swear to you.”
There was nothing I hated more than a man begging for his life.
“Save it.”
The single shot was issued, the direct hit in his kneecap crumpling him immediately. His agonizing moans sadly music to my ears. Leaning down, I grabbed his gun, shoving it into my waistband. “The only thing you have to say is to tell me the location of the box.”
Jo-Jo moaned, attempting to slide across the floor. “What?”
I yanked him by the collar, glaring into his eyes. “The box in the SUV. Where is it? If I have to ask you again, you’ll lose your other kneecap.”
“Ba... but...” Wincing, he shifted his eyes back and forth.
“In my truck. It’s nothing.”
“You leave that to me. We’re going for a ride.”
I dumped him in the back, securing his hands with a rope, his mouth with duct tape. The box was nothing special, the cardboard indicating a pair of shoes. I cut the tape, taking several deep breaths before opening. The small space was filled with cards and letters, none of which seemed damning in any manner. Only the envelope at the bottom held any real interest.
Yanking the contents into the light, I had to flip through everything to understand what I was reading. “Fuck.” There was no way to describe the emotions rolling through me, the ramifications of what I’d found horrific on several levels.
It also answered several of the burning and very ugly questions. No wonder my father had been cagey, hiding a secret for so many years.
I stared at my reflection in the rearview mirror for a full minute, putting the pieces of the puzzle together. There were still more, but everything was becoming clear.
The back roads were devoid of any real traffic, the ride to the warehouse without incident. Everyone of any importance was already inside, waiting for Jo-Jo’s arrival. There were various ceremonies in our world, all of them important in the advancement of careers. I’d attended Jo-Jo’s celebration of being a made man when I had yet to even come into my own. I’d been a kid, fascinating by the rituals and the darkness.
Now, we’d come full cycle, an ending of multiple years of loyalty. This was nothing to take lightly on any level.
I dragged him into the warehouse, dumping him on the cold concrete floor in front of the others. “We have our stoolpigeon.”
There was a moment of silence before the realization settled in, every man in the room overcome with their own level of anger. This could mean a destruction of everything we’d ever known.
“What do you want me to do with him?” Angelo asked before leaning over, spitting on him.
I couldn’t look the asshole in the eyes for fear I’d lose my shit more than I already had. “We question him first. I need to know what he’s told the Feds and the district attorney.”
“Fucker,” one of the soldiers said under his breath.
“He needs to be killed,” another rambled on.
Angelo threw up his arm. “We do what we have to do first.” He jerked Jo-Jo into a chair, yanking the tape off his mouth in a brutal fashion. “Now, little piggie, you’re going to talk.”
“Please. Don’t do this. I gave them shit. I swear to you. They have nothing. They’re bullshitting,” Jo-Jo insisted.
I leaned down until my face was only a few inches from his. “Whatever you told them was too much, but I need to hear everything. Do. You. Understand?”
“Yeah,” Jo-Jo whispered.
“Then let’s begin. What did you tell them?” The question was simple, his hesitation unacceptable. I backhanded him without thinking, the force toppling the chair. Hissing, I took a step back, waiting until Angelo and another soldier righted his chair. “We’re going to try this again. What. Did. You. Tell. Them?”
“I told them about the shipment, but no details. They already knew anyway.” Jo-Jo’s words were muffled, his bottom lip split.
“What about the shipment?” Angelo asked as he folded his arms.
“The drop date. I didn’t know anything else.”
This was true enough. “And Marco?”
“I had nothing to do with that. Nothing!” Sweat slithered down both sides of Jo-Jo’s face.
“And Bruno?” I asked in a guttural voice.
His eyes gave him away. I’d had enough. “We are finished here. Take care of him and make certain the body isn’t found. You fucked up, Jo-Jo. You could have come to me or to my father, but you chose to betray everyone. May God rest your soul.”
I walked out, not bothering to let the others know where I was going. What I had to do first would take a hell of a lot out of me but was necessary.
The rest would come within twenty-four hours.
The drive was without incident, although I had no doubt that Drummand had summoned various police officers and that they were preparing for a raid. The ammunition I had should be enough to cease the brazen activity. I laughed at the concept. If what I suspected was about to happen did occur, there would be ripples from here to Chicago, a shift in the operation of both the Feds and the two local police departments.
There were numerous cars located in my father’s driveway, several of which I didn’t recognize. I didn’t bother to wait for the housekeeper, letting myself inside and immediately heading to my father’s office. The door was closed, and I could hear loud voices, angry tones. Within seconds, I was able to recognize the second voice.
Carmine Francesco.
My father had called him. To have a meeting here and now meant a culmination of betrayals on several levels. I threw open the door, the box under my arm.
“You have to stop this madness, Gio,” Carmine exclaimed. “You have no proof.”
“No proof? I protected Margaret for years, her honor and her love for you,” Giordano half whispered. He shot me an angry look, his chest heaving.
Carmine sagged against the desk, extreme sadness crossing his face. “You don’t know what it was like. She was everything to me but refused to stay with me. I would have given her the world.”
“She didn’t want to be your mistress, Carmine. Just like she wanted nothing to do with the life I led. She was a truly sweet and amazing young girl, manipulated by her family. They wanted to get her far away from anything having to do with organized crime or bad influences.”
“Then what about Caroline?” I issued the words with no inflection, only a knowledge that the secret had nearly destroyed her life and had her mother’s.
Both men looked in my direction, a questioning look only on Carmine’s face.
“Caroline?” Carmine finally asked.
“Your daughter.”
The silence was telling and as the information settled into Carmine’s mind, his entire face went slack.
“You didn’t know?” I asked, moving closer.
“No. I had no idea I had a daughter. Margaret was...” Carmine exhaled then walked toward the window, planting his palm on the glass. “She was the true love of my life.”
I noticed the way my father’s eyes flickered. The reason he hadn’t trusted Carmine was that he actually believed the man knew about his daughter, but he refused to care about or acknowledge her. I had to admire Giordano on several levels. There was a code of honor, even for the damned.
“We both loved her,” Giordano said quietly. Sighing, he took the box out of my hand, taking his time as he glanced through the papers. “Margaret was terrified that something would happen to her. My guess is that Drummand forbid Margaret from saying anything.” He looked through the information and I could see how much the news affected him.
“You knew all along?” I asked my father, still attempting to accept the news.
He nodded. “I knew she had a daughter, but I never knew anything about her or who Margaret ended up marrying. We met before she was even engaged, but we were just friends then. I fell in love wit
h her over time, her gentle demeanor chipping away at the hardened man I’d already become. By then, I knew your mother and I loved her as well. Anyway, Margaret’s parents arranged a marriage, something she never wanted in the first place, but they were from cultures similar to mine. Arranged marriages still occurred even twenty-five years ago. By then she was pushing me out of her life. I wished I would have kept in touch with her. I just...”
“Then how did this happen if she was already taken?”
“Margaret just happened to be in Chicago, purchasing her wedding dress. I shouldn’t have touched her, but she was so young and beautiful that I had to have her. I was obsessed with her, refusing to allow her to say no. She fell for my charm, not having any idea who I was. For one glorious weekend I was allowed to be a man and not a mob leader.” Carmine clenched his fist. “Does Caroline know?”
Exhaling, I finally shook my head. “She knows nothing yet since she was in an accident.”
“What? I have to go to her!” Carmine came closer. “Is she all right?”
“She had some internal bleeding, but she will be fine in time.” My answer was succinct, even though I didn’t know the full prognosis.
“Did you find out who rolled Bruno’s car?” Giordano lifted a single eyebrow.
“Jo-Jo, but I have no doubt ordered by Drummand. Plus, there are other... issues that must be dealt with sooner versus later.”
His face turned beet red, his mouth pursing. “Cocksucker. Did you take care of the problem?”
“Being handled now. What about Drummand? From the information left by Margaret, it seems Drummand found out about Caroline a few years ago. That’s when he truly made both their lives miserable.”
“He knew long before that, son,” my father managed.
I snorted. “He was terrified you were going to tell Carmine.”
“Exactly. I didn’t know this until I talked with Margaret yesterday.” Giordano finally looked in Carmine’s direction.
“She’s... alive?” Carmine placed his hand over his heart. “I went to her funeral.”