18. Finn
I’m in a nearly blind rage. The only thing keeping me fucking grounded in this moment is the fact I’m on the phone with my wife. Cillian got a call from the dancer who tipped him off the first time that Carlo was at the strip club again. Eoghan met Cillian and me there with a couple of our guys, intent on ending this tonight. I’m sick and fucking tired of Carlo and Orlando Farina walking around this planet thinking they’re untouchable, they sure as shit aren’t, and it’s time I proved it.
When we pulled up, we saw a sea of flashing lights outside. Declan, one of the guys who works on Eoghan’s crew, jumped out to ask what was going on. He talked to the security guy for the club, and he said one of the girls was found in the alley with a bullet between the eyes. Turns out it was Cillian’s friend who tipped us off earlier tonight.
I don’t know if Carlo knew she called us or made her call us, then killed her. But either way, the girl was dead, and shit was not sitting right with me.
We all jumped back in the car to head to my house. I needed to be close to my wife, to know she was safe. We weren’t more than fifteen minutes from the house when I got an emergency notification on my phone. The lock to the safe room had been activated. Cillian immediately pulled up the camera feed to the house, and what I saw shook me to my core. Two men were standing outside the safe room door in one frame and my wife was behind the steel-reinforced door in the other. I could hear them trying to figure out what the hell to do when a third man walked into the basement.
Orlando Farina. My wife’s soon-to-be-dead ex-boyfriend.
He fed her a line of bullshit about seeing her soon and turned, walking past Enzo’s body, lying motionless on the ground. I immediately called Eoghan and told him to go pick up the doctor we keep on payroll and meet us at the house. Before he could ask any questions, I hung up and called Alessia on the direct line going to the safe room.
I’ve been on the phone with her for the last ten minutes, trying to calm her down, but she can’t take her eyes off the monitor for the camera pointing at Enzo.
“How much longer?” she asks again. “He’s still not moving.” Swiping the tears pouring down her face, she stares at the screen. Knowing my wife, she’s probably trying to will him to move, to wake up and show some kind of life.
“I know, baby. I can see both of you.”
I refrain from telling her I’m not sure Enzo will ever move again. Goddammit. We’ve gotten to know each other a bit since the three of us began working out together. The man doesn’t say much, but he’s reliable and has a dry sense of humor that reminds me of Alessia’s. I can see why she’s so fucking distraught over the idea of losing him. I’ve always felt at ease when I couldn’t be with her, knowing he was there to protect her. Even now, if he dies, I know he did everything he could to make sure she was safe.
“How close are you?”
“I’m pulling up to the gate now.”
Thank fuck.
Passing through the wide-open front gate, I spy the two guards on the floor of the guardhouse with their throats slit open.
We drive slowly up the drive, keeping our eyes peeled for any movement, but only find three more of my guards dead on the ground.
“Finn, be fucking careful,” Cillian calls as I shove the car door open and fly to the front door, my gun in hand and ready to shoot any motherfucker I see moving. Cillian is right behind me, his gun raised and ready to fire.
“I’m at the front door,” I tell Alessia, not willing to hang up until I have her in my arms.
“Please be careful. I don’t know if they’re still in the house.”
I don’t like there being too many cameras in the house, but I have a few. I watched Orlando and the other two men he was with walking out the front door and toward the gate. They must have parked on the street and come onto the property somewhere along the fence line. I’ll be figuring out how they got to my guards without being detected.
Rushing into the house, I fly down the stairs, trusting Cillian to have my back just in case I missed someone lying in wait.
“Open the door, Alessia.” The basement is dark, but light spills from the steel door when she cracks it open, and Alessia stands there with the phone still to her ear. As soon as she sees me, she runs into my arms and nearly knocks me over. Her body is shaking, and I hold her for a moment, reaffirming to myself she’s safe and unharmed.
She pulls back and steps a few feet to the right, where Enzo’s body is lying face down with two bullets in his back. Alessia drops to her knees next to her bodyguard.
“Enzo,” she cries as she feels for a pulse. “Oh my God, Finn. He’s still alive.”
I drop down next to her and place two fingers on his neck.
“There’s a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there.”
“Thank you, God.” Alessia grabs Enzo’s hand. “You’re going to be okay, Enzo. We’ve got you.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her that I’m not so sure he’s going to pull through, judging by the amount of blood we’re kneeling in. Instead, I keep my mouth shut, tear off my jacket and place it on the two wounds on the man’s back.
“Finn, you good?” I hear Cillian call from the top of the stairs.
“We’re okay. Enzo is still alive.”
“Holy shit.” He saw the same thing I did when we pulled up the camera feed in the basement. “I’m going to turn the generator on.”
The sound of his footfalls echo through the basement as he moves toward the back door, where I have a backup generator. Moments later, the lights in the basement flick on, and I look into my wife’s teary eyes.
“Did you see them leave?” she asks, probably scared they’re going to come back any second and try to finish the job.
I nod. “There were three. I watched them walk out the front door and head toward the gate.”
“Were you already on your way back? What happened?”
I could tell her not to worry about it, and I’ll handle it. It doesn’t matter to me that she grew up in this life and knows what to expect. She’s still my wife, and I want to protect her from all of this. I don’t want any part of this to touch her, and I don’t want her to hear all the gory details about what’s bound to happen. But Alessia wouldn’t be the woman she is if she let me get away with keeping anything from her. And I wouldn’t be the man I am if I didn’t respect the hell out of her for that—and so many other things.
“We went to the same strip club as last time. When we got there, the dancer was dead. Found shot in the head in the back alley. Police were all over the place, so we came home.”
“This was a setup to get you out of the house.” Her eyes narrow as she mulls something over in that sharp-as-hell brain of hers. “Why not shoot me when they shot Enzo? I may be a fast runner, but I’m not faster than a bullet.” She looks at her friend then her gaze snaps to mine. “Holy shit. Do you think Carlo and Orlando are working together?”
“My guess?” I ask, and Alessia nods. “They wanted to take you. Hold you hostage, or, I don’t know, sell you off. If Carlo is involved, that would be the most logical reason.” Not that logical and that piece of shit’s name belong in the same sentence. “That’s what he tried to do to the prosecutor who put his old man away. She’s also involved with the president of an MC we work with. The Black Roses and the Cataldis have a history that goes way back. It’s not the first time someone from their organization tried to take one of the women and sell her in the skin trade.”
“Jesus fucking Christ. Well, at least he’s consistent. Sounds like Carlo and Orlando are a match made in hell.”
“Maybe, but they fucked up more than they can possibly imagine when they went after you. I don’t care what I have to do; they’ll both die before this is over.”
Alessia looks me straight on with fire and vengeance swirling in her green eyes. We’re kneeling over her dying friend’s body, both of us with blood on our hands, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a person with such resolute determination and anger on their face.
“I want to be there, Finn. When you have Orlando. I want to see him take his last breath.”
Fuck. My wife is stunning. “Consider it done.”
The air seems to crackle between us with the power behind my words. Alessia will have her revenge. I’ll make damn sure of it.
“Finn, I have the doctor and we’re coming down,” Eoghan calls out, probably so I don’t raise my pistol and scare the poor doc.
Eoghan appears at the bottom of the stairs with a portable stretcher in his hands and Dr. Simmons and Cillian behind him.
“What do we have?’ the doctor asks, kneeling beside me.
“Two gunshots to the back. I didn’t turn him to check if the bullets went straight through,” I answer.
He removes the jacket I’d placed over Enzo’s wounds then checks his pulse.
Nodding to no one in particular, he looks back at Eoghan. “We need to move him. Lay the stretcher here,” he says, pointing next to Enzo.
Dr. Simmons and his team have been responsible for stitching up all manners of knife and bullet wounds for my family since my father’s time at the helm.
I help the doc carefully roll Enzo over and onto the narrow cot before Eoghan and Cillian pick it up and head up the stairs.
“He’s lost a lot of blood, and I won’t know the extent of the damage until I get in there. Finn, you come with me. You’re O neg, and we may need some blood from you.”
“So am I,” Alessia says, standing from the pool of blood at our feet.
“Then you come, too.”
Dr. Simmons turns and follows his patient up the stairs. “They should have the operating room ready when we get there, but we need to hurry.”
“Are we going to a hospital?” Alessia asks.
With all the money he’s made from my family the last several years, plus his time in his own legal private practice, the good doctor built a house not too far from here. Pretty convenient for me. Of course, I made sure to contribute to the cost of the surgical room he had built onto the house as well.
“He has a setup in his house. Do you want to get changed before we go?”
Alessia shakes her head. “No. I don’t want the doctor waiting in case he needs us.”
“Come on then. We’ll take Eoghan’s car. I don’t care if we get blood all over his.”
Alessia lets out a small, barely there chuckle, but it’s the first hint of lightness I’ve seen since I got home.
“Glad the thought of ruining my brother’s car amuses you. Let’s see how he feels about it.”
I reach my hand out and she slides her bloody palm into mine. Some people may get a little squeamish with the blood, but not us. I wouldn’t care if she was covered head to toe in the most disgusting substance known to man. As long as I can touch her and have her safe next to me, then all is right in my world.
One of Simmons’s nurses scrounges up some scrubs for us to change into after we’ve washed up as best we can in the bathroom. Alessia insisted they take some blood from both of us to have on hand and ready if necessary. If they don’t need it this time around, that’s fine. It’s not like it won’t be used at some point down the road. We’re about to go into a war with two Mafia families. Who knows how long it’s going to last or how much bloodshed is in our future? If the past serves as any indicator, my guess is a lot.
It’s been an hour since they wheeled Enzo into surgery, and so far, the only thing we know is he’s still alive. Now that I’ve had time to process the events of the evening, I can’t help but wonder how Orlando and Carlo found themselves in cahoots and why I didn’t know about it. And where the hell was Carlo when all of this was going down?
“Alessia, is there anything you recognized about the other two men?”
Her head lifts from my shoulder that she’s been resting on since we sat on the large couch outside of the operating room at the doctor’s house.
“Not really. They were wearing masks and night-vision goggles, except Orlando. It was like he wanted me to see he was after me. He probably thought it would scare me even more or something. Orlando always did enjoy psychological warfare.”
His name falling from her lips sends rage coursing through my blood. And the fact she knows that about him. It gives me a terrifying insight into their relationship.
“One of their voices did sound familiar, but I couldn’t place it at the time.”
“Could it have been Carlo?”
Alessia is silent as she considers my question. “It could have been. Honestly, Finn, I’m not entirely sure. I wasn’t exactly in my right frame of mind. Plus, I’ve only met Carlo a few times. Even my father couldn’t stand him, so he was rarely invited to any functions my family had.”
That makes sense. The Cataldis weren’t well liked by the other families if the word on the street was accurate. That’s why I’m confused as to why Farina is helping him now.
“I need to make a couple calls.”
I pull out my phone. Normally, I would walk out of the room. But the thought of leaving Alessia alone is too much. I know she won’t be attached to my side for every move I plan to make against Cataldi and Farina, but I need more time next to her before I’m willing to let her out of my sight.
Dialing Luca, he answers right away. I usually wouldn’t make contact with him on the phone he uses when he’s at the Cataldi estate, but this can’t wait. “Hey. Hold on a second.” I hear him tell someone he’ll be right back and to not even think of leaving the house. “Okay, I’m back.”
“Fun times babysitting?” He’s been on guard duty for Carlo’s little sister, Giada.
“You have no idea. She’s being a pain in the ass for the simple sake of getting a rise out of me.”
I chuckle, thinking of Alessia and me the first few weeks of our marriage. Shit, she still likes to get a rise out of me for the hell of it.
“Have you seen Carlo, or has his sister heard from him?”
“Haven’t heard anything, and as far as I know, he hasn’t been in touch with Giada. Why?”
“There was an attack on my house tonight. Alessia’s bodyguard was shot, and it looks like they were there to try to take her.”
“Fuck, man, is he okay?”
“It’s still up in the air.”
“It might be time to get out of here. Sounds like you need the help over there. He hasn’t been home in weeks and his men haven’t been around either. There’s no one here who would know anything.”
I think about that for a few moments. I haven’t wanted Luca to join us for several reasons. He wanted revenge on Francesco, Carlo’s father, and I wanted an inside man. What better way to kill two birds with one stone? He gets his pound of flesh, and I get the information I need to take down their organization. Unfortunately, since Francesco went to prison, Carlo has been MIA.
“Stay there a little longer. At least until we can figure out where Carlo has been hiding. He might decide to come home, and if he does, I want a shot at him.”
“As long as Giada doesn’t get caught in the cross fire, you can have whatever you want. She may be a pain in the ass, but she isn’t part of this.”
“Trying to protect the princess?” A smirk plays on my lips at Luca’s protectiveness over his sworn enemy’s daughter.
“Someone needs to. It certainly isn’t going to be anyone here.”
“Alright. Keep me updated.”
We disconnect the call, and I look at my wife.
“Your inside man is Giada Cataldi’s personal bodyguard?”
“He is now. Having him in the house gave us some useful information about their operation, but with Carlo on the run, it’s been hard for him to stay there. He fucking hates those bastards.”
“Why? Other than the fact that Carlo is a piece of shit, of course.”
“Long story that goes back years. But they were responsible for the death of his parents.”
She blows out a harsh breath. “They’ve been responsible for ruining countless lives. Especially Carlo.” She’s referring to the sex trafficking ring Carlo set up under a lot of our noses. It was up and running for some time before I caught wind of it. Just one more reason to want the man put down.
“We’re going to stop him, Alessia. Make no mistake. He isn’t long for this world.”
My wife nods and rests her head back on my shoulder.
My thoughts keep trailing back to what she said about possibly recognizing one of the men’s voices. Carlo takes a sick satisfaction in inflicting pain. Makes me wonder if he was one of the masked men and wanted a front-row seat to them hurting my wife. But it doesn’t make sense why he would still be hiding his identity. Unless he doesn’t think we’re on to him and Orlando working together yet. When Cillian heard from the stripper, she only mentioned Carlo. She didn’t say anything about Orlando. Carlo has proven he likes flying under the radar until he tries to make some big move. Maybe he would have revealed himself if their plan had worked. What he fails to understand and what will eventually be his downfall, is we’re smarter than he is. I kiss the top of my wife’s head.
We have a lot more to lose, which makes men like me even more dangerous and ruthless, especially to those who try to take what’s mine.