A Madness of Crows: Mafia University #3

10. Day 36 – Gio

“Gio.”

I bolt upright, reaching for my gun.

The woman standing beside me smacks away my fingers, handing me a coffee instead. “Idiot.”

Half-awake, I blink at the caffeine in my hand. Lorena Morelli shuffles to the front of the room, settling into her chair. She sniffs. “You slept too long.”

And yet it feels as though I haven’t slept at all. Glancing down at the watch around my wrist, I curse, stumbling to my feet.

“You’ll be no good to anyone if you’re dead, boy.” Lorena doesn’t pull her words as she observes me. I offer her a slight nod, more from gratitude that she let me sleep than anything else.

One of the only times that I do get to close my eyes at all is here. I take a sip of the coffee, wincing at the amount of sugar she’s added to it. “Thanks for the coffee.”

A bony hand grabs my wrist as I head past her. Lorena keeps her voice low. “My great-nephew?”

I shake my head, glancing at the man standing just outside the open door. There’s an apology on my lips, but she huffs, waving me away. “At least the Corvo girl had some sense. It’s like watching children play sports. Everyone is chasing after the ball instead of using their heads.”

The man glances in, and she snorts at him, unfazed. “Don’t look at me like that, stronzo. I eat small cocks like yours for breakfast. Same time tomorrow, Fusco.”

With a nod and a grimace, I leave her alone. The man follows me, dogging my footsteps as I walk out of the building and across the campus.

It’s a ghost town.

No laughter. No rivalry.

The few faces I do see all have the same expression as they rapidly move from place to place.

Fear.

I shovel down some food in the dining hall, taking in the number of empty chairs around me. Ignoring the top table, those five empty chairs.

Ghosts. Everywhere I look.

And if it’s not the ghosts, it’s Matteo’s men.

My hand clenches around my fork as I check my phone again.

No messages.

My fingers tap out the words despite myself.

I want to speak to you.

It turns red a moment later, matching the row of messages above it. All of the messages I’ve sent to Stefano Asante since that night.

Every single one of them bounced back, as if his phone is no longer in service.

I don’t look up as the seat across from me scrapes across the floor. Rocco keeps his voice low as he digs into his own food. “Fusco.”

I jerk my chin in greeting, mindful of the eyes on us, and abandon my plate in favor of downing the rest of my coffee and leaving him alone at the table. “See you at training.”

I hear them before I see them. Vito V’Arezzo’s replacement, our new fighting tutor, is arguing with one of Matteo’s men on the steps leading into the gym, gesturing in irritation. He snaps out the words without looking at me as I jog up to them. “Get inside. We’re already running late, thanks to this asshole.”

The soldier shifts awkwardly beneath his glare. “Matteo said—,”

Marco De Luca squares up to him, his voice low and dangerous. “I don’t give a fuck what Matteo said. I report directly to him, and you don’t even register in the damn hierarchy. I am telling you that I will teach the way that I see fit – and if that means pulling the scraps of this fucking campus together so I only have to teach once instead of running the same session five times over, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Now get the hell off my steps, you whiny little bastard. If I see you again in the next hour, I will fucking shoot you.”

The soldier bolts as Marco turns to me, rubbing his hand over his face. “That’s not going to work forever.”

We walk down the hallway, pulling open the doors to the gym. Paul Maranzano slips out, giving me a nod, before he takes up his post further down the hall, tapping absently at his phone.

An early warning system.

Inside, the mood is grim. I glance around, checking to see who’s here.

Johnno, my new enforcer, raises his hand in greeting from where he speaks to Vincent and Danny. Cat’s senior team is here in force, and I offer a nod to Frankie Costa when she meets my eyes. She nods back, her face distracted as Tony mutters something in her ear. Rocco strolls in behind me, whistling.

“This everyone?” Marco steps up beside me, his bushy eyebrows drawn. “What about—,”

We both turn at the sound of the door opening. Nico, Luc’s enforcer, slips inside. “Sorry. They’re fucking everywhere.”

“We’re here for training,” I remind him. “Marco has it covered.”

“For now.” Cat’s uncle nods towards the changing rooms. “Hurry up.”

Everyone disappears to change into workout clothes, to give the appearance of a training session in progress should any of the soldiers decide to risk Marco’s anger and come to check on us.

We settle in the middle of the boxing ring. Rocco is already on the phone, and Dante’s voice rings out when he presses the speaker. “—need those fucking blueprints.”

“Nothing yet?”

Dante falls silent at my voice. The anger in his tone is clear when he responds. “No. We need the blueprints for the Asante estate, Gio. Without them, we’re working blind.”

Frankie Costa leans forward, her scarred face thoughtful. “What have you got so far?”

Beside her, Tony crosses his arms. Dante responds after a moment. “The perimeter outline. Nothing of the inside.”

“I know the inside.” Her voice is quieter now, and Tony gives her a sharp look that she ignores. “I can give you a sketch of what I know. General layout, key areas. I don’t know everything, but it’ll be better than what you have now.”

Rocco leans forward with curiosity on his face. “You’re an Asante?”

“She’s a crow.” Tony’s voice is cool, but Frankie slides him a look that makes me wonder exactly what forces of nature Caterina has been creating in her ranks.

“I was an Asante. I left.”

Her fingers trace the side of her face with pointed bronze nails before she swallows, sitting up. “I could… I could go back. My father still works for Salvatore.”

She stumbles over his name. “If I go for a visit, I can get inside. Take photos—,”

“No.”

Everyone in the room suddenly finds somewhere else to look. Anywhere other than at the two people glaring at each other. Even Dante stays quiet on the other end of the phone.

“I am a soldier.” Frankie’s voice carries in the small space, although she lowers it. “Aren’t I? Did Cat name me a member of her senior Crows, or not? I’m not just here for the pretty membership badge, Tony.”

“You’re not a fighter, Frank.” Tony is louder. “You think I’m going to let you just walk into that place—,”

“This isn’t about your personal feelings. It’s not up to you—,”

“I get a say in this,” he snaps back at her. His cheeks flush crimson. “Fucking hell, Frankie. You barely got out last time.”

He looks around, resolute. “I’d put my life down for Cat in a heartbeat. I will, if and when we go in to get her. But she’d be the first one to pull a knife on any of us if we let Frankie walk in there alone. And Caterina Corvo is my fucking capo. So the answer is no – regardless of my personal fucking feelings.”

“How convenient,” she mutters. But the heat is gone from her voice. “Vincent?”

The most senior crow in the room, since we lost Dom. He shrugs, apologetic. “I agree with Tony. Cat would say no, Frankie. We’ll find another way.”

“The sketch is enough. Far more than we have already.” Dante’s voice echoes. “Thank you.”

“I’ll do it today and give it to Rocco.” Frankie leans back, refusing to look at Tony.

I let my eyes slide to Nico. He sits a little further apart from us, his face shadowed as he listens. “Any update on your side?”

He shrugs. “Our men are ready to move as soon as we get the signal.”

He says nothing else.

I glance at Marco, and he clears his throat. “We’ll have a significant number. Approximately one fifty, at last count. But if we hit the Asante estate before taking out Matteo, we’re looking at a war that will split the Corvo line in half.”

One side for Matteo. The other for Caterina.

“We can’t hit Matteo yet.” The fury still underscores Dante’s voice, ripples out into our small group. “Got an update on that front, Morelli?”

Nico gives the phone a hard look, as if Dante can see him. “Luc’s doing what needs to be done.”

“And we’re supposed to trust that.” Dante’s derision rings through.

“Yes.” It’s not Nico that answers. They turn to me. “We’re not going to survive this by picking each other apart, Dante. We have enough enemies out there.”

Cat needs us to work together, but every day we seem to be pulling further apart.

She needs a fucking army.

And that’s exactly what I’m spending every waking hour working to give her. We’re going to march on the Asante estate and burn it to the ground to get her out.

As soon as Alessia is safe, we move.

We disperse to the machines, making a show of working out as Marco starts yelling orders. I grab the phone from Rocco, ignoring his irritated expression as I press it to my ear and retreat to the benches. “We’re going to find them, Dante.”

His voice slips, revealing the grief, the fear, that lingers underneath. “If they’re hurt, Gio—,”

“Dom is there,” I say roughly. “He never leaves Matteo’s side, by all accounts. He will not let anything happen to Alessia. And Luc…,”

I sigh.

Dante only snarls. “I’m still going to kill him when I see him.”

I stare out at the gym, watching as Nico types a message out on his phone. “Shoot more than once. I swear that fucker must have nine lives.”

Although he lost more than a few, the same night that we lost Cat. He’d crawled more than a mile when I found him, most of his blood on the outside.

That I even found him at all was a fucking miracle. I pull my own phone out of my pocket.

Check it, just in case a message has come through.

“You trust that he has some sort of plan?”

“You don’t?”

Dante sighs. “I don’t know what to fucking believe anymore. We have no choice but to trust him. But she’s a baby, Gio. Why wouldn’t he have spoken to us first, put a plan together?”

I don’t answer, although I suspect I know exactly why Luciano Morelli didn’t consult us before strolling into the lion’s den.

Guilt.