24. Skye

24

SKYE

T he morning sun spills across my bedroom floor as I adjust the silver Rolex on my wrist. Skye is still asleep, and a part of me hopes she stays that way. I spent my entire night buried in her, and now that I know how she feels, it's hard to stay away.

I didn't tell her last night, but I've never liked anyone touching me. Not before her. But I have given her everything… All my emotions, all my firsts, all my heart.

Skye stirs in my bed, the charcoal sheets twisted around her curves. Her amber eyes find mine as I shrug on my shoulder holster.

"You're going to get her back." Not a question. A statement of fact.

I slide my Glock into place. "It shouldn't take long - not with Enzo's help."

Skye rises from the bed, still gloriously naked. The day light hits her and I suddenly forget about anything but the feel of her squeezing my cock. It takes every bit of my restraint to stay where I'm standing as she comes up behind me. Her steps are silent as she approaches, fingers trailing up my chest to straighten my tie.

"I'm sure Maria's strong. Like you."

My jaw clenches at the mention of my cousin. The image of her subdued expression, the flash of fear on the surveillance photos I've seen, flashes through my mind. I push it away, focusing on Skye's touch as she smooths my lapels.

"I'll have Bas pick you up for work."

"I know the drill." She rises on her toes, pressing her lips to mine. Something in my chest loosens. "Go be the scary mob boss everyone thinks you are."

The corner of my mouth twitches. I cup the back of her head, deepening the kiss for a moment before pulling away. "Stay safe."

"I will."

It's nearly impossible to pull away from her, though. Yet, I manage.

Mickey and Carmine wait by the cars, checking weapons and kevlar. The morning air carries a bite that matches the ice in my veins. My phone buzzes with Enzo's text - the address of the warehouse they moved Maria to on the south side.

"Boss." Mickey nods as I approach. "Ace has eyes on the location. Confirms Enzo's count."

I slide into the back of the black SUV, mind already mapping contingencies. The weight of my gun presses against my ribs, familiar as breathing. Maria's been gone three days. Too long.

But today, she comes home. And anyone who stands in my way will learn why Chicago whispers my name in fear.

The car pulls away from my house, leaving Skye safely behind those walls. Her kiss lingers on my lips as we drive toward the warehouse. For once, I don't check my watch. I know exactly what time it is.

Time to remind everyone why you don't touch what belongs to a Mantione.

The SUV crawls to a stop two blocks from the warehouse. I check my phone - another text from Enzo confirming positions. My fingers trace the grip of my Glock, mind clear and focused.

"Remember," I say to my men. "Anyone who doesn't respond with 'blackbird' gets put down. Clean shots only."

The warehouse looms ahead, rust eating through metal walls. Five guards patrol the perimeter. Two by the loading dock, three near the side entrance. I recognize one of Enzo's plants positioned exactly where he should be.

Mickey takes point while Carmine circles wide. The first guard doesn't see us coming. A silenced shot drops him before he can radio for backup. The second reaches for his weapon. Too slow.

"Blackbird," he calls out, lowering his gun. Smart man.

The other guard beside him isn't as lucky. My bullet finds his throat before he can scream. Blood sprays across concrete as he crumples.

"Status," I murmur into my earpiece.

"West side clear," Carmine responds. "Two targets neutralized. One friendly."

I move toward the entrance, stepping over cooling bodies. Marco falls in behind us, providing cover. The warehouse door groans as we breach, light spilling into darkness. Dust motes dance in the beam of my tactical light.

My pulse remains steady, breathing controlled. But Skye's voice echoes in my head - ' Go be the scary mob boss .' The ghost of her kiss lingers, grounding me as we clear each corner.

Movement ahead. A guard emerges from shadow, weapon raised.

"Blackbird!" He drops to his knees, hands up.

The last hostile appears on the catwalk above. My shot catches him center mass. He pitches over the railing, hitting concrete with a wet crack.

The final door stands between me and Maria. The lock gives way under my boot, metal screaming as hinges tear free. My light sweeps the room, catching on a figure huddled in the corner.

Maria lifts her head, those familiar brown curls falling away from her face. For a moment, I see my mother's smile in the weak curve of her lips. The memory slices through my chest, but this time it doesn't freeze me in place.

"Took you long enough, cousin." Her voice is hoarse but strong.

I cross the room in three strides, checking her for injuries. Besides some marks on her wrists from restraints, she seems unharmed. Enzo kept his word.

"Can you walk?"

She nods, gripping my arm as I help her stand. "They didn't hurt me. Just kept me here."

The sound of scuffling echoes from the hallway. Mickey and Carmine drag in our "blackbird" respondents, zip ties already securing their wrists. Enzo stumbles between them, playing his part perfectly.

"Get them in the vans," I order. The boys know what I need - for this to look good. No doubt I stormed in and stole my cousin and their men.

Maria leans against me as we exit, her legs shaky from days of minimal movement. The morning sun hits her face and she squints, pressing closer to my side. The gesture reminds me so much of when we were kids, of her holding my hand at my mother's funeral, that something in my chest cracks.

I guide her to the SUV myself, trusting my men to handle the staged kidnapping of our plants. They'll rough them up enough to sell the story if anyone checks the cameras, then drag them into the van. A black eye is inconvenient but better than being dead.

The sound of fists hitting flesh carries from around the corner. Good. Let anyone watching believe we're taking prisoners. Let them think twice before touching what's mine again.

Bas jumps in the driver seat of my car as I help Maria into the back seat. I pull Maria into my arms, breathing her in and savoring the fact that she is safe. Her slim frame trembles against my chest. The urge to destroy everyone who put that fear in her eyes claws at my throat.

"I thought..." Maria's voice cracks. Now that she's safe, the fear I'm certain she's been holding back comes leaking through. "When they grabbed me, I thought this was it. That I'd end up like-"

"Never." I cut her off, not wanting to hear the end of that sentence. Not wanting to think about my mother's broken body. "No one touches my family."

She pulls back, those warm brown eyes studying my face. Even after three days of being held captive, Maria's natural beauty shines through the dirt and exhaustion. "Please don't kill Enzo. He was actually decent to me, made sure I had food and water."

A harsh laugh escapes me - and Maria looks shocked. Yeah, I bet she is. Most people don't seem to know how to react to any of my expressions besides Skye. "I'm not going to kill him. He's the one who got you out."

"What?" Her brows furrow in confusion. "But he was there when they took me."

"Yeah, and I took him as a favor." I smooth back her tangled curls. "He set the plan to get you out, and I gave him security with us. This was his way of proving loyalty."

Maria sinks back against the leather seat, processing. "Shit. That's... actually pretty smart."

"You're staying with me for a while." Not a request. "The penthouse isn't safe right now."

"With you and your father?" I see the question in her eye.

I shake my head. "I…killed Father."

She barely even blinks. "Good."

Instead of focusing on that, I switch back to the original topic. "The house has better security. And I need to know you're protected."

"Always taking care of me." Maria squeezes my hand. "Just like when we were kids."

The gesture brings back memories of scraped knees and playground fights, of Maria standing up to anyone who dared whisper about my mother's death. Before I learned to shut everything off, she was the only one who could make me smile.

"You're family," I say simply. It's all that needs to be said.

The SUV pulls into my driveway, gravel crunching under tires. Maria's head rests against the window, exhaustion etched in every line of her face. Bas opens her door, helping her out with gentle hands that belie his usual brutality.

"Doc's already inside," he says, supporting her weight. "Let's get you checked out."

I follow them through the front door, scanning the foyer out of habit. The click of heels on hardwood draws my attention. Bas guides Mira to the guest room while I stand rooted in place as Skye comes around the corner. Relief bursts through me just to see her.

But the day's violence is still caked on me. Blood crusts under my fingernails, dark and accusing. I flex my hands, watching dried flakes fall to the marble floor.

Warm fingers thread through mine. Skye tugs me toward the kitchen without a word, her touch anchoring me to the present. She fills the sink with hot water, adding soap that smells like her lavender body wash. Good. I want to smell like her.

"Give me your hands."

I comply, watching as she works the soap under my nails with methodical precision. Her fingers massage my palms, washing away evidence of what I had to do. What I'll always do to protect what's mine.

"You got her back." Skye's voice is soft but certain. She looks up at me through thick lashes, those amber eyes seeing straight through my carefully constructed walls. "You protected your family."

I cup her face with my wet hand, needing to feel her warmth against my skin. She leans into the touch, pressing a kiss to my palm.

"I'm proud of you," she whispers against my skin.

The words hit like a physical blow, cracking something loose in my chest. I pull her against me, burying my face in her neck. She smells like jasmine and safety - like home.

Her arms wrap around my waist, holding me together as I breathe her in. No questions about the blood. No judgment about what I had to do. Just acceptance. Understanding.

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