Chapter 23
Matt
When I wake up, it’s to a depressingly empty bed.
After a moment’s panic, I find Aron’s note on the nightstand. The handwriting seems a bit off, but then again, his hands were trashed. I’m surprised he managed this much.
Matt - Went to the docs. Hands hurt. Be back soon. Love, Aron.
Well, at least he’s getting himself looked at. I thought he brushed off our physicians a little too brashly last night, but maybe he’ll finally allow them to wrap his hands in sterile bandages. It can’t be safe to walk around with so many open, uncovered wounds.
Since I have the suite to myself, I take a leisurely shower and allow myself the luxury of having my coffee brought to the bedroom, so I can go over the most recent numbers in peace. Oftentimes I’m interrupted with miniscule problems that could be easily solved without my input.
Dad ran the Syndicate like a well-oiled machine, but he always made sure he manned the controls. I prefer to think of it as a tight ship, one that I can steer from the helm without any unnecessary micromanaging of my crew.
By the time I’ve checked all our remaining accounts, it’s long past breakfast. Where’s Aron?
Taking Jules with me, I march to the physicians’ wing. Certainly, Aron’s hands should be taken care of by now.
Dr. Nilczek greets me with a cheery smile, one that vanishes the second I mention Aron.
“I’m terribly sorry, Don Matteo, but he hasn’t been here since last night, when he watched us treat your wounds from the fight.”
“What?”
He exchanges a worried glance with Dr. Carne, the other physician on duty.
“He hasn’t even called for more pain medicine.
We only gave him a quick IV bolus yesterday.
It’s long since worn off. We offered to prescribe some narcotics, or at the very least some strong anti-inflammatories, but he refused it all. Wouldn’t even accept acetaminophen.”
The initial panic at Aron being gone from the bedroom resurfaces, and I leave the doctors without another word, eager to find my boyfriend.
Our next stop is the surveillance room. With the systems we have in place, I should be able to see him wherever he is on the estate.
I pour over hour after hour of recordings, fast forwarding frantically through the videos, but there’s no sign of Aron leaving the mansion.
No sign of him getting in any of the cars outside, not even any vehicles missing from our extensive collection.
More disturbingly, I note several gaps in our camera coverage that shouldn’t be there, enough gaps that a person could slip through, maybe even two or three individuals, if they’re careful.
Only someone on the inside could have done this.
I’m seconds away from ordering a mass search of the property when Jules taps me on the shoulder.
“What?” I snap.
Jules leans close. “No offense, Don Matteo, but you might want to consider backing off on the search for Aron right now, or at least hide your panic. I know what happened in the woods, but the others … they might not be as, er, tolerant of that.”
Fuck. He has a point. If I seem scared or anxious, that doesn’t track with the “ruthless don” facade. I’ve got to come up with a plausible reason for me to be upset at Aron’s disappearance.
The twins, who have been tiring away in the server room next door, poke their heads around the corner. “What’s going on?” Holly asks as she chews loudly on a stick of gum. “Something wrong with the monitors? We just checked them yesterday.”
Showtime.
I storm across the room and grab Holly by the throat. “Did you create the gaps?”
She shudders in my grasp. “Wh-what? N-no! They were already there. Hank and I assumed you wanted some areas of the mansion where there was privacy. Y’know, for secret mafia stuff.”
Shoving her back with a snarl, I whip around to the closest associate who happens to be walking by.
“You! Lorenzo! I want this mansion locked the fuck down. Javier’s son has disappeared, and if he’s still on the property, I want him found.” Lorenzo’s eyes widen, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps. “If he’s escaped, heads will fucking roll. Oh, and Lorenzo?”
“Yes, Don Matteo?”
“I want Aron brought in alive. He’s mine, capiche?”
Off he goes with a few other, more senior Syndicate officers on his heel, all looking quite confused.
I suppose I understand. I went from praising Aron’s loyalty to ordering a manhunt for him less than twelve hours later.
If there’s anything I’ve learned from watching Dad all those years, though, it’s that the don doesn’t have to make sense.
Since I don’t have my usual guard, Jules stays with me. We move on to my office, where Cinder and Gia have been waiting for me to start the day’s business. Jules stands guard outside while I slam the door shut and start seething and pacing.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Cinder asks, still in character as my supposed girlfriend.
I look at Gia, who gives a silent nod. She’s checked the office and found no listening devices. I stop pacing and stand behind my desk.
“Aron’s missing.”
The two women gape and exchange worried glances. “Is there a ransom?”
“If Javier’s people took him, there won’t be one.” I slam my fist on the desk. “Fuck! I should have known he’d come for Aron. The only person I’ve known to be more of a controlling freak was Dad. Javier probably thinks he can convince Aron to switch sides.”
Cinder puts her hand on my shoulder. “No one could get Aron to leave the Syndicate. That man has it bad for you. He’d never give in.”
“You don’t know Javier. He once tortured a rival boss to within an inch of his life, and until that guy got blown up the night of the attacks, he was as loyal to Dad as anyone.
Javier has some nasty tactics. He’s not afraid to get his hands dirty, and I wouldn’t put it past him to use some of his tricks on Aron. ”
“But Aron has the benefit of knowing his dad’s tricks,” Gia points out. “He’ll be even harder to turn.”
I wish I could be as optimistic as the girls. Of all my dad’s associates and enforcers, Javier was the most ruthless. He would stop at nothing to achieve whatever goal Don Tito set for him, and oftentimes anyone who resisted his, er, charms would find themselves at the bottom of the nearest river.
Not that Javier was a bad father. Far from it, in fact, but things have changed. This is no longer about sleepovers and kids playing in the park. This is about power and control, two things I suspect Javier is unwilling to let go of now that he has them.
He’ll be unwilling to let Aron go as well. No amount of begging, pleading, or bargaining on Aron’s part is going to get Javier to release him.
While my men search the estate, Cinder, Gia, and I brainstorm ways to find and extract Aron. Though we know where Javier’s staying, that doesn’t mean he took Aron home with him. He could be holding my boyfriend hostage in a warehouse, abandoned building—anywhere, really.
While we ponder a way to find Aron, Gia suggests putting the twins to work closing the gaps in our security. I have a better idea, though.
The thieves.
It’s been my experience that those who are best at getting around security are the ones who know the best methods of securing a place. If I throw enough money at them, I’m sure the four thieves can get the mansion back to its former airtight surveillance.
Interestingly enough, all four returned from their previous missions intact.
I paid them for delivering the envelopes as promised, but I hadn’t come up with another immediate use for them yet.
This might be just the thing to keep them from getting too bored.
Bored thieves tend to lead to missing items.
Unfortunately, none of the hitmen have returned yet—at least not intact. A few of their heads appeared on the front drive this morning, but some are still unaccounted for.
I don’t hold high hopes for their survival.
At least I didn’t waste any veteran Syndicate officers on that mission. This will just serve to weed out any weak links in the new blood. If any do by some miracle survive, then maybe they’ll find Aron while they’re removing Javier’s head from his body.
I send a group text out to the remaining hitmen, offering to double their payout for information on the whereabouts of Aron, and quadruple for returning him safely to the Syndicate.
Two hundred million dollars should be a sufficient incentive to bring him home.
I just hope one of them manages to get to him and get him out alive.