Reign (The Vendetta Series Book 2)

by Kris Anne Dean

  Reign

  The Vendetta Series

  Book 2

  Kris Anne Dean

  Copyright 2019 Kris Anne Dean

  All rights reserved.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book may not be re-sold.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Prologue- Danny Morgan

  5 Years Earlier

  We abandon the safety of our car and trek through the woods on foot while thunder and rain pounds down around us. I’m not sure what’s more frightening, the dark or then menacing sky. My father takes the lead and I follow behind next to my mother swaddling my baby brother. My oldest brother brings up the rear with my father’s closest friend and guard, Vincenzo Carracci. The cold rain pellets my skin and I shiver. I’ve never been so cold in my life. Tears well up in my mother’s eyes as she hums a lullaby to calm the crying baby. I let her gentle tone soothe me although, at eight years old, I would never admit I need her comfort too.

  I don’t know why we’re running or who we’re running from but I’ve never seen fear in my father’s eyes before tonight. He clenches his gun in front of him and leads us down a gravel road. When headlights break the darkness, my brother screams, “Papa, they’re coming.”

  Vincenzo raises his gun towards the approaching car while my father waves us off the road. He motions to my mother to get down, “Stay low and keep quiet.”

  The three of us crouch low to the ground. My father and Vincenzo press their backs flat behind trees on either side of us with their guns held close to their chests. Peeking out from under my mother’s arm covering me, I watch the headlights pass by. When the taillights fade in the distance, my father and Vincenzo come out from behind the trees and lower their weapons.

  “Quick, this way.” We follow Vincenzo off the road through the dense wilderness, this time, with my father in the rear. We walk on top of sticks and stones. Low-hanging branches lash at my skin as we crawl through brush thick with thorns until we reach a run-down shack deep in the heart of the woods. The cuts on my arms and legs sting but I bite my tongue. I need to be strong for my mother and baby brother. Strong like my father.

  Vincenzo scans the area while he walks the length of the shack until he circles around and emerges from the opposite side. My father pounds on the padlock with the butt of his gun until it pops open. He slowly pulls back the door, the creaking pierces my ears and echoes through the darkness. Vincenzo enters first and waves us inside.

  When my brother flips a switch, a dim light flickers overhead.

  “No lights.” My father flips the switch down, leaving us in the dark. Vincenzo removes a flashlight from his knapsack and hands it to me. I turn it on and look around. The shack is dark and dirty. There’s a small table in the corner and an old couch in the center. It lacks all the comforts of our home.

  I sigh and plop on the dusty couch. My mother sits next to me, still cradling the baby in a sack against her chest, and wraps her arm around me. I know I shouldn’t concern myself with material things at a time like this but I can’t help but wish I had toys and a change of clothes. The baby is the only one with a blanket and my body is wet, head to toe.

  “We won’t be here long. Papa will figure something out,” my mother whispers, her voice like music amidst the storm.

  My father and Vincenzo stand between the window and the door whispering to each other. I don’t understand what they’re talking about but it frightens me.

  “Vincenzo, if I don’t make it out of this, promise me you will take my family to safety.”

  “Francesco don’t talk like that, we will all make it out of this, together.”

  “I’m serious. I trust you with everything I have. I trust you with their lives. If something happens, you will find everything you need for safe passage to the states in a locker at the Terminal. Raise them well and when the time comes, choose one of my offspring to wed yours. That union will bind our families together, as we have always been. Our joined families will have the ultimate power.”

  “Peitro, come here.” My father motions to my brother. When he approaches, my father hands him a gun, “Just like I taught you, son. If anyone comes through this door you shoot.”

  My brother puffs out his chest and takes the gun. He turns it over in his hands a few times and nods. Pulling the safety back he settles on the floor at my mother’s feet. At sixteen he’s as tall as my father but much skinnier. He talks like an adult but he walks like a child. His hands are steady on the grip but his slumped shoulders hold the weight of the world.

  My mother lays the baby on the couch and props a pillow alongside him. She walks toward my father and he wraps his thick arms around her waist, pulling her close, “Never forget that I love you.” He plants a kiss on the top of her head and wipes the tears from her eyes before shifting away.

  “Vincenzo, I’ll check the front. You go around back.” My father pulls out his gun and heads out the front door while Vincenzo exits through the back.

  I watch, through the window, as lightning lights up the darkness outside. The booms of thunder mask the gunshots. My father drops to his knees, clenching his heart and falls forward.

  My mother screams.

  The front door bursts open and more shots ring out.

  My mother falls to the floor in a pool of blood.

  My heart pounds in my chest and I grab onto the back of my brother’s leg, sobbing. My brother raises the gun in his hand and pulls the trigger. The bullet whizzes through the air and lodges into the wall next to the intruder's head. The unfamiliar man standing in the doorway raises his gun firing two more shots.

  My body shakes and a coldness washes over me as I fall to the floor on top of my brother’s lifeless body. Through the ringing in my ears I hear the man laughing as he walks back out into the rain, “The Morgano’s have fallen.”

  Unable to move I lay there in a pool of blood. My body numbs and my vision blurs. Crying pierces my ears and footsteps fall beside me. I watch Vincenzo pick up the crying baby and the world goes dark.

  I thought I died that night and perhaps I did. The dull ache in my stomach and the crushing weight on my heart has been with me ever since. I’m not sure why God allowed me to survive when my family all died, in front of my eyes. Yet, he did. If you can call my life surviving. Vincenzo Carracci took my baby brother and I, as he promised my father. He called on every contact he had to smuggle us out of the country and get us safely to America.

  Only one of us made it. The trip across the sea, on a cargo ship, proved too much for an infant. It still weighs on me, that I didn’t cry when we buried the baby at sea but by then I was numb, devoid of all emotion but anger. Anger at the monster that murdered my family. Anger at Vincenzo Carracci for saving me, but most of all anger at my father for allowing his family to pay the ultimate price. He spent years as the head of the Italian Mafia, crushing everyone that dared to stand against him or had the nerve to consider themselves equal. He formed the commission to control all mafia operations, but he was an intelligent man and ensured that a Morgano would always reign supreme. Vincenzo believed
that’s what ultimately led to our demise.

  I spent the next ten years being reminded daily of my duty to my father. Vincenzo raised me and trained me to one day take my revenge. However, the only way I could secure the legacy that was rightfully mine was to marry a Carracci. The thought turned my stomach. Abigail Carracci was born to be my wife. Conceived out of Vincenzo’s devotion to honor my father’s dying request but she was like a sister to me, as much as Vincent Carracci was like a brother.

  I walked away from the family and my duty on the eve of my eighteenth birthday packing everything I had from that time in my life away in a warehouse. Some family pictures, our birth certificates and the baby’s blanket was all I had left. Memories too painful to hold on to. I shed the skin and the pain of Demetri Morgano and assumed a new life as Danny Morgan. Now, all these years later, my past has caught up with me. The men hiding in the shadows know my true identity and they’re here to take my life. To finish what they started sixty-five years ago in that run-down shack in Italy.

  I’ll no longer die an old man, wrapped in the arms of my loving wife. The fact that my daughter doesn’t know who I really am, is all that’s sparing her life. They’re counting on my death to ensure the secret never comes to light. I may be a coward but I’m every bit as intelligent as my father. I set her destiny in motion when she left for college.

  Sitting in this warehouse surrounded by memories, I summon the courage to pen this letter to my daughter. One day she will learn the truth and fulfill her destiny in the way I never could. That is the only way my inevitable death won’t be in vain.

  My Dearest Daughter Brie,

  Chapter 1- Cal

  It’s been a long night but I’ve finished collecting the week’s earnings from the local businesses now under the control of the Carracci family. My eyes are heavy and all I want to do is go home and crawl into bed next to Brie. The last few months have put a strain on our relationship and I worry she doubts my commitment to her and our growing family. Everything I do is to secure my position in the family and pave the way to take control when Vinny is ready to pass down the reins. It’s not just for me any longer but to give her and our child the best of everything. She’s put her trust in me and I refuse to let her down. I may be a Carracci by blood but I still have to earn my spot just like any other member of the crew. It’s important to Vinny and to me that the men I will one day lead know I work just as hard and can hold my own. I’ve never considered myself to be a violent man. I promised Brie that I wouldn’t lose myself but every passing day it gets harder to keep that promise. Our move into the Bianchi territory hasn’t been an easy one. With Angelo in jail and the Bianchi family allowing his operations to fall, some local business owners welcome the change. They hope that new leadership means they have less to fear, while others have made us prove the opposite.

  It’s been a long winter and tonight it doesn’t seem to want to give way to spring. Without the sun to warm the temperature, the cold air bites at my exposed skin. There are too many layers to remove but I take off my helmet, lower the black bandana covering my face and slide off my gloves. I secure the envelopes of cash collected inside the lining of my black leather jacket and pull the zipper up. I can’t leave the envelopes in the saddlebags of my bike because even if I locked it in this neighborhood, it might not be there when I return. It’s easier to navigate the narrow streets on my bike and in some neighborhoods it gives me credibility with the street thugs I encounter.

  My last stop for the night is in the center of East Harlem. I promised Brie I would keep my dealings as legal as possible, so when I learned that drug dealings are rampant in this area of the city; I made it a part of my business model to eliminate as much as I could. The Carracci’s would not be a part of the drug operation. My contacts informed me there was a thug by the street name of Nitty Ninez here. The Mexican drug cartels use him to smuggle the white powder into the city. He deals cocaine, heroin and opioids throughout the five boroughs and cuts Angelo Deluca in on half of his proceeds for the right to cross into Mafia territory. It appears the drugs he sells and uses are more lethal than my gun. I didn’t plan to be here tonight, but I overheard a news report earlier of two teenage girls found dead in the park of an apparent overdose. A dealer laced the drugs in their system with a deadly dose of fentanyl. The police found a bag labeled with a capital N and the number nine through it in one girl's pocket. Tonight I am here to send him a message.

  I walk up the steps to a run-down building with loud music blaring from inside. A man as brooding as I am stands on the front stoop with his tattooed arms folded across his chest and a permanent frown on his lips. His long black hair is back in a low ponytail and stubble and tear drop tattoos cover his face. The stiffness of his stance as I approach doesn’t intimidate me, this is my city now and they only operate if I allow it. The faster they learn that, the better off they’ll be.

  I stop in front of him with my hand positioned at my side ready to pull my weapon if I need to. “Tell Ninez he’s got a visitor.”

  The man’s dark eyes stare at me but he doesn’t move or even blink. He’s blocking the door so I can’t pass without a confrontation.

  “Do those things on the side of your head work?” I growl, “Tell Ninez I want to see him.”

  He shifts his weight into a wide stance and looks me over. I stand six feet tall with taut muscles that intimate people but my jacket is hiding my build. I lift it up, revealing the 9mm Glock 19 at my side so he knows I mean business. After a long stare down he breaks eye contact and responds. “Who should I say is asking?”

  “Tell him the boss needs a word with him.”

  “There’s only one boss on these streets and he’s inside.”

  Anger breeds with fury deep within me and I pump my fists at my sides. “That’s what I’m here to talk about. You can go get him or I can go through you and get him myself.” I’m done asking, this fucker is going down. In a split second I pull my gun from my side and raise it high in the air bringing the butt down in a satisfying blow against his skull. His eyes roll back in his head and his massive body thuds to the floor. He growls like a rabid dog as he struggles to regain his footing. One sharp kick to the stomach and he’s down again. I step over him and pull on the door handle. It makes a loud creak and bangs against the door frame when I throw it open wide. With my left hand, I reach down and grab the man by his ponytail. “Let’s go get him together, why don’t we.”

  His feet scramble to keep up with my pace as I cross the threshold into the house. A loud commotion of men jump from their seats and cock guns in my direction. It’s not the smartest plan I’ve ever had but there’s no turning back now. Pushing forward until I reach the center of the room, I let the man drop to the floor at my feet. A much smaller man with shaggy blonde hair and tattoos around his neck rises from a chair in front of me.

  His baggy jeans hang low enough to show his boxers and his white wife beater tank top shows he has no place to hide a weapon. “Man, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing but my boys could shoot your ass barging in here like that.”

  My vision blurs with the rage burning inside. I know I’m surrounded by men with guns but I can’t see them. “If they were going to shoot me, I’d already be dead. I’ve asked three times and I’m not asking again. I’m here to speak with Ninez and no one else.”

  He motions for the other men to lower their weapons and orders them to leave. “Everyone out.” When the last man clears the room he adds, “I’m Ninez and I’m impressed with your balls so I’ll hear you out. You have five minutes.”

  This cocky mother fucker has grated my last nerve. I close the gap between us and slam his light body against the wall with my arm across his neck and my gun pressed to his head. His body shakes under the heaviness of my arm. “I only need one. I’m Cal Carracci, the new boss in town. You’re no longer in business with Deluca and if I catch you dealing anywhere outside of Harlem, you’ll answer to me.”

  I remove my arm from h
is neck letting him gasp for air. Before he can regain control of his voice and call to his men, I turn and walk out the door. But not before landing a satisfying blow with the heel of my boot to the man moaning on the floor.

  When I reach my bike I holster my gun, raise the bandana over my face, put on my helmet, and slide on my gloves. Raising the kickstand and firing up the engine, I burn rubber out of this hellhole.

  When I reach Vinny’s office on the other side of the city, I’m surprised to find it empty. This time of night the guys are usually here hanging out, bull shitting or counting their envelopes. It’s all right with me, it means I can go home with no protest. I open the safe behind Vinny’s desk and deposit the envelopes. As I turn to leave I spot a small rectangular envelope on the desk with my name written on the front. It’s a white card with an address and instructions to come alone. Tucking the card in my pocket, I hightail it to the address unsure what I’m walking into. A million thoughts race through my mind. Is Angelo making a move?

  The darkness surrounds me as I round the corner to the address on the paper. I pull my bike into a parking lot of an abandoned warehouse. There are no signs of anyone around except for one man standing in the shadows in front of the entrance. I park my bike and remove my things, approaching the building and a man I don’t recognize. Without a word, he ushers me into the warehouse where several men in suits and ties sit around a large table. I strain my eyes against the darkness to see who they are. The closer I get, the faster my heart beats in my chest. I swallow hard and fight to maintain control but anxiety creeps through my body causing a slight tremble to flow through me. When I approach the table a dim light above flicks on, lighting the faces of the men surrounding me. My heavy sigh breaking the tension in the air. Vinny and the rest of the crew laugh at my reaction. Vinny motions for me to stand in an open space between the rows of chairs the others are sitting in. From his position across the table from me, he motions upward with his hands and everyone rises. Sal stands next to me placing a .38 Smith & Wesson Special and a knife in the center of the table with their grips pointed toward Vinny. My body trembles, not with anxiety this time but with the adrenaline pumping through my veins. This was it, the moment I secure my rightful place in the family. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and reach my hands across the table toward Vinny who grips them with both his hands.