Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
SINCLAIR
W e’ve been reviewing the assignments we need to hand out this afternoon. While resuming control of Bianchi interests, we’ve identified a few problem areas in a couple of our businesses. We discovered that Salvatore De Luca repurposed some of our more profitable, legitimate businesses into fronts for shit we would never have involved ourselves in. Not only do we need to resolve that, but we also need to start focussing on the De Lucas. The new capos are going to need to step up and prove themselves.
Aurora removed any hierarchy between the men and women now in charge. All eight capos report to her, and Stefano has continued as consigliere to advise her and manage the transition of power. Myself, Nico, and Benedict are acting as her personal protection and performing as many of the underboss responsibilities as we can while she decides what the new organisational structure will look like. No one will be named as underboss while we’re still recovering from Manny’s betrayal.
To know that a man we trusted for years defected to the De Luca’s is more than most of us can stomach. I look forward to making him pay. I’m not normally a willing participant in the torture part of the programme, but for Manny Ferella—and Max De Luca, for that matter—I will make an exception.
My email pings, distracting me from the agenda Aurora mocked me for writing. My heart hammers in my chest and a sheen of sweat breaks out along my hairline when I see the name of the sender along with the title of the message.
From: M De Luca
Subject: Thank you for my gift, principessa. Time I delivered yours.
“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost, Sin?” Aurora asks from across the room, concern etched into her expression.
I can’t speak. I don’t want to tell her, but I can’t keep this from her, or protect her from it. It’s fucking killing me not to open it, but I know I can’t read it without her.
“Come here, colibrì .” My voice sounds alien, thin and weak like it's about to crack under the strain of having to destroy her.
She rises from her chair and when she reaches me I pull her down onto my lap and cup her face, not allowing her to turn to the screen yet.
“There’s a message in my inbox addressed to you.” I clear my throat, but it doesn’t shift the sense of dread I’m choking on. “It’s from Max.”
She inhales sharply and holds her breath, so I stroke her cheek, trying to encourage her to let it out again. Slowly, she relaxes and the gentle exhale mingles with mine.
“I’m right here,” I whisper, keeping my tone as even as I can muster, encouraging her to face the screen.
Wrapping my arms around her middle, I drop my forehead to her shoulder, letting her tangle of waves block my view while she reads. I don’t need a clear view of the screen to know how devastating this email is. Her body goes rigid and she lets out a sound that chills me to my bones.
An agonising howl of rage and despair that reverberates through me.
I ease her hair back from her face and stroke it down her back, trying to soothe myself as much as I am her, but also allowing me a view of the screen. I’m afraid of what I’ll see, but I’m powerless to stop myself.
There’s nothing on Earth that could’ve prepared me for the images that will be burned into my memory for the rest of my life.
Enzo.
Enzo, stripped and bound with barbed wire on a St Andrew’s cross.
Enzo, face twisted in agony, chained to a surgical table.
Enzo, branded with deep welts and burns.
The images are prolific. All depicting a different torture. A fresh torment.
Aurora’s wail has receded to harrowing whimpers as each image scrolls by, the sound permeating my shock, and only then do I notice that tears are streaming down my face.
My mind is whirring. Enzo is alive! However, any joy at that thought is being drowned in a tsunami of dread and fear.
Just because he was alive doesn’t mean he’s still alive.
This could simply be another way to hurt us, hurt Aurora. Yet more torture for us to endure.
Doubts creep to the forefront of my mind, wondering if we got him back now, how much of him would still be left? Would he be too far gone to save? The pictures depict a hell I doubt I’d be able to survive. I’d try for Aurora’s sake, but six weeks at Max’s mercy is a long time.
I have no clue how Aurora endured four years.
My body hums with warring emotions, not sure whether to break into pieces or erupt with molten-hot rage.
I click back to the email and scroll down, realising Aurora had only opened one of many links. The next one opens a video file. My heart beats so hard in my chest that it feels like it’s trying to break through my rib cage as dread pools in my stomach, leaving a foul taste in my mouth.
“I have a gift for you, principessa .” The chilling sound of Max’s soulless voice echoes through the laptop speakers.
Aurora’s hand shoots out and pauses the video.
“We need to get Nico and Benedict. Whatever he has to say, I can’t listen to it twice and they need to hear it too.” Her voice is quiet, and the cadence betrays the effort it’s taking to hold herself together. I pull my phone out of my pocket and text the group chat.
Rory’s office, NOW.
I close the video and reopen the email. Seconds later, they’re both walking through the door, and I can tell by the way Rory’s shoulders drop that their presence is easing her tension. Benedict is first through the door with a smile on his face, but as soon as he takes in her ashen complexion, worry creeps across his face.
She turns into me and whispers, “You tell them. I can’t”
I twitch my head to the side to get them to position themselves where they can see the screen. Benedict leans on Aurora’s desk to our left, and Nico wraps his arm around his waist. I’m not sure if it’s to comfort Benny or to prepare himself for what we’re about to show him. Either way, Nico’s brows are drawn in a deep furrow of wariness.
“I don’t know where the fuck to start, and there’s no way to prepare you for this,” I say, already dreading their reactions.
Benny crumbles as soon as he sees the image frozen on the screen. “This is my fault. I should never have blown the basement.” His words are quiet, strangled by the weight of his misplaced guilt.
“It’s no one's fault but Max’s,” Aurora snarls, swiping away her tears.
“He was alive? Fuck , is he still alive?” Nico says with a desperate roar, seemingly overtaken by a mix of rage and panic.
“There’s more. You’re going to need to prepare yourselves,” I add, the gravel in my voice doing nothing to hide the agony I’m feeling.
Nico holds Benny a little tighter and I catch the moment they both squeeze their eyes tight, trying to build up walls we all know are about to be torn right back down. Nico reluctantly nods his head as I poise the mouse over the link to the video.
The screen is filled with darkness for a moment before Max comes into shot, lit by the glow of his phone, which casts oppressive and malevolent shadows across his sharp features. His lips twist in a cruel smile.
“I have a gift for you, principessa . It’s way past time for you to be disciplined for your petulance. While I have enjoyed playing with your little pet, your churlish outburst last night can’t go unpunished, and he’s going to pay the price you owe.”
A soft whimper escapes her lips before Aurora whispers, “What have I done?”
I grip her waist tightly, trying to reassure her in some way but having no clue what I can say to make any of this better.
“I thought long and hard about the best way to make sure you learned your lesson this time. Moretti is a poor imitation, and I tire of him, but there’s no satisfaction in making his end quick and painless. You need to understand that every second of his agony is your fault.”
“Fucking psychopath,” Benedict cries as Max’s face disappears and a curtain of bright light floods the screen. “I’m going to rip his heart out through his asshole when I get my hands on him.”
The next part shows Max in the back of a box truck. The shutter is rolled up with a loud rumble to reveal a grimy-looking street, somewhere industrial, bordered by hulking warehouses with smashed windows. Two men climb into the van and Max angles the camera so that we can see into the dim corners of the space. They lean down, hooking their arms under a body and hoisting it between them like a broken doll. Their head is covered with a bloodied hessian sack, chest bare, and legs hanging like dead weights in blood-stained grey sweats.
“Enzo,” I whisper. The atmosphere shifts, like our collective inhale has stolen the air that surrounds us.
“He’s not in the best condition, principessa . He doesn’t have your fortitude,” Max sneers. He tips his head to the side, signalling his men into action as he flips his phone to the back-facing camera.
They drag Enzo to the edge of the open van and dangle him over it. Three loud thuds sound out and it must have been someone signalling the driver because the scenery starts to move.
“You shouldn’t have tipped your hand, wife. By sending me your little gifts, you showed me how much this Moretti bastard meant to you. Tell me, did you whore yourself out to just him? Or are you fucking them all? I guess it doesn’t matter. I don’t want you for your cunt. The only mistake I’ve ever made was thinking I could replace you. You were made for me. You belong to me, and you always will.”
Bile burns my throat. If I thought I knew rage before, I was wrong. We’re all held captive by this madman’s monologue, desperate to turn it off but petrified to take our eyes off Enzo.
“I wonder if you’ll find him in time? Based on his current condition, I doubt he’ll last very long if he survives the fall.”
I watch in horror as Enzo’s limp body is tossed out onto the road. Pain sears my chest, like my heart is tearing itself in two. I can’t do this again. I can’t lose him again. I will never unhear the cries from Benedict and Aurora as they shatter into a thousand pieces next to me.
The video flips back to the front-facing camera.
“I’m coming for you, principessa , but first I’m going to take every single one of those worthless bastards from you.”
The screen freezes on the last frame as the video ends and we don’t have a second to process it.
“When was it sent?” Nico asks, his words hurried and tone urgent.
“Fifteen minutes ago, but fuck knows when he recorded it or how long it took him to send it,” I reply before pivoting in the chair, lifting Aurora towards Benedict. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace, her back to his front.
Her tears have dried in streaks and her eyes have hardened into glassy pools, devoid of any emotion. I can tell that my colibrì has retreated within herself and right now, the Bianchi don is already planning what to do next—and it’s my job to get her the answers she needs to take action.
Aurora straightens her spine and rolls her shoulders, and from the look of determination she’s etched on her face, it’s taking everything she’s got to pull herself back from being overtaken by the despair we’re all feeling.
She nods, spurring me into action without uttering a word. My fingers fly over the keyboard, pulling screenshots of the warehouses in the back of the video and doing image searches to try and narrow down our search area. The architecture is dated, almost derelict, and mostly red brick.
“Are these the most likely locations?” Aurora asks, pointing at the search results on the laptop screen that show the three most likely places. “Can we refine it any further? They’re at opposite ends of the city.”
“No, there’s not enough architectural markers to narrow it down any further. One warehouse district looks pretty much like another.”
“Call Stefano to coordinate the capos. They can cover the other two areas. We’ll take the East side. It’s the furthest from Max’s house and any emergency rooms. Text Doc Em. We need her on standby.” She pulls away from Benny’s embrace, heading for the door without looking back.
“You go with her. I’ll meet you in the car. I’ll pick up some medical supplies from the basement and you get the weapons from the garage. Inform the perimeter team to stay on alert and call in backup,” I say to Nico since Benny looks completely zoned out.
I stand, gripping the desk to steady myself. We have to find him. We have to save him. If only to save ourselves.
We can’t lose him again.
It will destroy us.