The Accardi Twins: A Mafia Romance Duet

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Caleb

“ H ow bad is the damage to Rinascita?” I ask as soon as we are all settled around the conference table in Commission Central. We came directly from the hospital after checking on our injured men, making a pitstop at the penthouse to drop Gia off. Outside, traffic is already building in Manhattan though it won’t be sunrise for another forty minutes. None of us have slept, and everyone looks exhausted even after showers and a change of clothes.

“There is significant damage to the roof and the top floor, but the lower levels are intact, and the structure seems solid,” Massimo explains.

“We called the various management teams, and everyone will work remotely for a few days until the engineering team inspects the building and ensures it’s safe,” Fiero adds before shooting Massimo a knowing look.

Our president clears his throat. “There was another casualty.” His gaze dances between my brother and me. “The Accardi cruise liner docked at the port was also targeted. They couldn’t save it.”

Joshua and I exchange troubled glances. “We had security staff on board. Did they get out safely?” my twin asks.

“You lost two men. They were on the top deck when the first bomb dropped. They died instantly according to the capo on duty. Several others have minor injuries or suffered smoke inhalation. We sent them to the hospital before we left to come here.”

“Why are we only hearing about this now?” I stifle a yawn as I swing my gaze from Massimo to Fiero.

“Your capo called Marino, and when he didn’t pick up, he called Joshua.”

What am I, chopped liver?

“I lost my phone during the fight,” my twin explains as I try to rein in my frustration.

I haven’t forgotten we need to cleanse our famiglia of every scumbag traitor and rebuild loyalty. By the time we’re through with them, no one will ever dare to disrespect us again.

We plan to deal with McDermott first before handling the traitors we left stewing in crowded cells in the bunker. It’s timely because after my encounter with Lili in the hospital I’m itching to murder a few pricks.

“There wasn’t anything you could’ve done. We were already on-site, so we handled it.”

“I will contact the insurance company later,” Joshua says as I quietly seethe.

“I’ll call the commissioner and have him send someone to your office to take a statement. You’ll need an official police report to submit a claim,” Ben says. “He can weigh in if we need to take the heat off you. A cruise liner being bombed is not something we’ll be able to conceal.”

“It’ll be a shitshow, and we’ll have to lay low for a while,” I say.

“This complicates an already complicated situation.” Fiero looks grumpy as fuck, and I don’t blame him. The street trade is already on shaky ground, and this doesn’t help.

“Thank fuck we offloaded the shipment earlier.” Joshua leans back in his chair, dragging a hand through his damp hair.

“How badly will this affect the supply chain?” Cristian asks, loosening his tie and opening the top button of his shirt.

“It will undoubtedly cause major issues,” Joshua says, “but I’ll call our new airline contact and see if we can put a regular schedule in motion to cover the gap.”

“The bigger issue is production.” Fiero scrubs a hand down his face. “The authorities have temporarily shut the plant down. Juan Pablo will pay the bribes and get it reopened fast, but a few warehouses were damaged and require repairs, and a lot of the product in the storage warehouse was destroyed during the battle. It will be at least three weeks before full production restarts.”

“We need to negotiate a deal with another producer, and possibly we should keep this contact as a backup resource, given all the recent issues. We haven’t helped the situation by having no Plan B,” I say.

“I don’t think we have any choice,” Massimo agrees. “Set up a meeting with O’Hara,” he instructs Joshua. “He mentioned a possible contact in Sinaloa.”

“I don’t think we should get mixed up with the cartel.” Cristian shifts in his chair, the leather squelching with the movement.

“I don’t like the idea either,” Ben says, “but we don’t have many options. We need someone powerful with established production and distribution channels. They’ve had their sights set on New York for some time, and they won’t reject the opportunity.”

We cease talking when there’s a knock on the door. A hot brunette in a tight pencil skirt deposits a tray with coffee, doughnuts, and pastries on the table, asking if we need anything else. She flashes me a flirty look as she passes, and I struggle to place her. I suspect I screwed her a couple of years ago, but I can’t be sure. After a while, all the names, faces, and bodies blend together. None are ever memorable, and it’s starting to get old.

We resume our conversation after the door is firmly closed.

“Partnering with the biggest Mexican cartel is a recipe for disaster,” Cristian says. “I really think we should consider other options.”

“I’m not a big fan of the idea either,” Fiero agrees. “Their product quality is often inconsistent, and we could be inviting bigger trouble by opening our doors to them. But we don’t have time to waste, and we know they can dig us out of this hole right now,” Fiero says, in between chewing mouthfuls of an almond croissant. “I think we have to take the risk. We have only just driven the other operators out of the city. If they discover we’re incapable of meeting demand, they’ll be back, and it’ll be harder to permanently push the various entities out.”

Joshua pours me a coffee and slides it over.

“What are we doing with Vegas?” I ask before taking a sip of the hot bitter liquid.

“We’ve sent Mantegna and Agessi to Vegas to restore order,” Massimo says.

Dominic Mantegna is the Chicago don, and Dario Agessi is the Philly boss. Both have history with some of the men in this room. They are trustworthy, loyal as fuck, and solid additions to The Commission. Volpe, from Pittsburgh, and Pagano, from Detroit, are wild cards because we haven’t had many personal dealings with them, but both seem dependable.

“When are we announcing the four new board appointments?” I ask.

Although the men were sworn in a couple of months back, they haven’t attended meetings because the decision was made to keep it all hush-hush until after we dealt with the threat. I’m assuming that will imminently change.

“We’ll do it this week,” Massimo says. “Right now, the priority is supply chain, dealing with the traitors, and reasserting control without our famiglie , settling Vegas, locating DiPietro, and finding out who the fuck in Sicily or the mainland was bankrolling my father and brother and orchestrating a takeover.”

“How are you dealing with all that?” Ben asks, eyeballing Massimo.

“I’m not.” Massimo sighs heavily. “It’s a complete mindfuck. How could they have been alive all this time and I didn’t know?”

“None of us knew,” Ben reminds him. “It shocked the hell out of me too.”

“They would have killed me in order to regain control.” Massimo stares idly out the window, but it belies the transparent tension written all over his face. “I always knew I didn’t matter, but this has totally driven it home.”

Fiero sits up straighter, staring directly at his best friend. “You have always been the better man, and you got the upper hand. You killed them first. That’s the ultimate punishment for always underestimating you. Fuck them, Massimo. They got what they deserved.”

“What do you plan to do with the bodies?” Joshua asks.

A deep crease lines Massimo’s brows. “I need to speak to my mother. It will be her decision.”

“Is she capable of making it?” I ask what everyone is thinking.

Joshua scowls at me, but I ignore him. Sometimes he takes the older twin routine to extremes, and it pisses me off. He’s not my parent or my babysitter even though he seems to take both those roles on when he considers the need arises.

“I don’t know.” Tiredness resonates from Massimo’s tone. “But I want to at least give her the option of burying her son and husband. If she can’t or won’t make the decision, I’ll burn their bodies and toss their ashes in the trash.”

“And Calabro?” Ben asks, clenching his jaw.

“We will afford him respect as a don.”

“We wiped the Barone out. Who the fuck cares about showing that prick respect?” I eyeball the boss. “It should be Don Mazzone’s call. It was his son they came after. We don’t need proof to know it was Calabro who gave the command.”

Massimo rubs at his mouth. “The decisions we make now will affect what Lorenzo Rizzo does in the future. Do we really want to make an enemy of the Barone for a third time?”

“It might already be too late. Leave that problem for future generations to handle. We’ve got enough shit on our plate and they’re small fry.”

This is bullshit and Massimo knows it. It’s clear his head isn’t where it should be. Under normal circumstance, he wouldn’t hesitate to make the right call.

“I’m with Caleb,” Ben says. “That prick doesn’t deserve to die with honor.”

“We should vote,” Fiero says, silently communicating with his buddy.

“Fine,” Massimo concedes.

The vote is unanimous. Calabro is going swimming with the fishes.

“How do you want to play this?” I ask the following night as Joshua, Gia, and I make our way down the stairs that lead to the underground interrogation bunker on Staten Island. Howls of pain comingle with cussing and the whirring sound of chain saws and other torture instruments as we pass by cells on either side of the narrow passageway, heading for the last one at the end that houses McDermott.

The bunker is heavily guarded, and there is barely room to move past all the soldati on duty outside individual cell doors. We are taking no chances because we have no clue where that sub went, where Cruz is, or whether the big Italian boss is here or calling the shots from Sicily or the mainland. Massimo sent Volpe and Pagana back to Florida in case Don D’Onofrio is sheltering his buddy Cruz. While we haven’t found any evidence of treachery, none of us trust the new Florida don.

Massimo and Ben are currently interrogating the Italian soldati we captured for intel, Cristian is dealing with the traitors within the DiPietro famiglia , and I left Giulio and Vittus—our new consigliere and underboss—to continue pushing the Accardi spies and Marino supporters for answers. Most of them appear to have been completely in the dark, blindly following their underboss out of stupid, misguided loyalty.

“Gia is taking the lead. We’re just here to support her.” Joshua tightens his grip on the duffel bag slung over his shoulder, nodding at his girl as they walk side by side in front of me.

“Please say we’re dragging this out and I can have some fun.” My hands flex at my sides in anticipation of inflicting more pain.

Gia glances over her shoulder, her nose scrunching at the blood drying on my face, coating my hair, and clinging to my clothes. “Didn’t you have enough fun earlier?”

I’ve been here for hours, interrogating the ninety-nine rats we locked up before the battle along with those who switched allegiance from Marino to us at the last minute. Not that there are many of them left. Most were taken out in A.C.

By this time tomorrow, no one who supported our dead underboss will be alive. The only way to be sure we regain full control is to end every last one of them. It will send out a clear message to the rest of our famiglia and ensure no one attempts to mutiny in the future. “Not really,” I truthfully reply, cracking my shredded knuckles. I waggle my brows and flash her a dark grin. “There is no torture sufficient enough to repay those traitorous pricks for their betrayal, but I’m enjoying trying. The fifteen I’ve killed already haven’t come close to sating my thirst for revenge.” Bloodlust surges through my veins, and I can’t wait to get my hands on McDermott.

“You seriously scare the shit out of me sometimes, Caleb.” Gia pokes her finger in my face when we stop at the end door. “Please stay away from my best friend.”

“Fuck off, Gigi,” I bark, earning a warning look from my twin as he talks in hushed tones with the soldato on guard outside McDermott’s cell.

I know Gia is whispering in Elisa’s ear, encouraging her to cut all ties with me. I’m still wired after our hospital run-in, and I got fuck all sleep last night when I finally crawled into bed. I can’t lose Lili. No matter what she thinks, she’s important to me, and I’m not giving her up without a fight.

“You fuck off,” she snaps. “You have no idea how badly you’ve hurt her, and it’s not the first time.”

“Park this shit,” Joshua commands as I open my mouth to spew venom at my future sister-in-law. “Unless we go in there as a team, you’re not coming in, Caleb.”

“I want that shithead to suffer as much as you do, but if you don’t want me there as backup, that’s your call.” I take a few steps back. “Plenty more Accardi traitors to flay alive.”

Agonized shouting emits from behind some of the cell doors, ramping up my bloodlust.

“I’d like you there,” Gia quietly says, staring at me while clutching Joshua’s hand. “We should agree Elisa is an off-limits subject.”

I nod.

“Are you sure about this, honey?” Joshua brushes his fingers across Gia’s cheek. “No one will think less of you if you want to bow out.”

It’s easy to forget Gia is only twenty-two because she handles herself like someone much older. But her vulnerability is showing right now, and I regret my outburst. Liam put her through hell, and this is a big deal for her. I already know what she’s going to say before she says it, as does her boyfriend.

“I’m not walking away.” Gia visibly pulls herself together, stretching her spine, thrusting her shoulders back, and lifting her head. “I refuse to give him any power over me. I’m doing this.”

As much as her interference with Lili annoys me, I’ll admit she’s an impressive woman. A woman definitely worthy of my brother.

“If you change your mind or you need to walk away at any time, do it.” Joshua cups one cheek. “Caleb and I can finish him off if needed.”

It’s why I’m here. I want to support them and be there as a backup if needed.

“Okay, but I really want to do this myself.” Steely determination races across her face.

“You promised me his fingers,” Joshua reminds her.

Gia smiles. “His dick and his ass are mine.”

“And she has the nerve to call me scary,” I murmur, fighting a grin.