Chapter 6
Christiano
As I walk into the warehouse at the crack of dawn, my thoughts are inundated with what happened at the wedding.
I tried to call Sienna several times, but she wouldn’t answer or return any of my messages. I gave up last night and contacted Aunt Samantha, who said there’s nothing to worry about and that Sienna ate something bad, but she’s doing better.
Just like when Sienna broke off things with me, I once again get the feeling Aunt Samantha and Sienna are hiding something very important from me.
Glancing at Nico, I order, “Have Ciro watch Sienna. I want him to update me on her movements every day, and he’s not to tell anyone. It stays between the three of us.”
“Okay.”
While Nico makes the call to Ciro, I walk toward the crates that Georgi delivered late last night. Trusting him not to fuck me over, I don’t even bother checking whether the order is correct. I grab a submachine gun and load a magazine into it.
Hugo, who’s my best enforcer, took his team and rounded up fourteen Irish soldiers over the past few days.
The fuckers are standing in a group at the other end of the warehouse, and as I stalk toward them, there’s only the constant rage in my chest.
After Sienna broke up with me, I used to get a kick out of killing, but these days it barely eases my anger.
Every time Sienna rejects me, it pushes me closer to the edge. The endless worry, frustration, and longing for her are the only other things I feel.
Christ, the longing. It’s fucking killing me.
When I reach the group of soldiers, I take a good look at each man. Some are scared, giving me the impression they might’ve joined the organization recently, while the few seasoned ones are tense and ready for a fight.
Even though I’ve been busy with this war for so many years, there are always new men joining the Irish mafia. That’s what makes it so difficult for law enforcement to take down a crime syndicate.
“The crates behind me contain weapons,” I say loud enough for everyone to hear. “If you can get past me and reach the crates, you can help yourself to a weapon and attempt to fight your way out of here.”
It’s one of my favorite games, but I don’t get to play often because it’s no small feat rounding up so many soldiers. I have to remember to give Hugo and his team bonuses for a job well done.
The Irish fuckers’ expressions alternate between looking confused and suspicious.
Lifting my arm, I signal for my guards to clear out. Only Nico hangs back, taking up a position by the door where he lights a cigarette.
One of the Irish soldiers steps forward and asks, “That’s it? If we make it past you, we get to walk out of here?”
I nod. “You have my word.” I hold the submachine gun ready and impatiently snap, “Get going!”
Wasting time, they glance at each other, and to motivate the fuckers, I shoot one of them. They scatter across the concrete floor, and keeping track of the remaining thirteen, I begin to pick them off.
The bodies drop fast, and as the bastard who asked the question comes right at me, the other remaining man makes it to a crate.
I notice Nico taking a deep drag of his cigarette, still leaning against the doorjamb.
As the man who asked the question slams his shoulder into my chest, lifting me off the floor, I aim at the other one by the crates. Just as he fires his weapon, I take him down with two shots.
I feel his bullet burn across the side of my neck, then I go down as the only remaining bastard slams me hard into the concrete floor.
Air explodes from my lungs. His fist connects with my face, and as he begins to deliver punch after punch, my bloody lips curve into a smile.
I let him have his way, the pain he’s inflicting on me easing the relentless heartbreak eating away at my soul.
This is the only way I can get some relief.
When the skin splits by my right eyebrow, I’ve had enough. Growling, I wrestle him onto his back before I repay the favor.
The skin over my knuckles splits open, and the warmth of his blood coats my hand as I beat him. My heartbeat speeds up a little when he gets more punches in, and I actually appreciate the effort he’s putting in to stay alive.
But not enough to spare him.
Maybe it’s something I’d consider if I had Sienna to keep me grounded, but that’s not the case.
As his blood flows and his bones break, the darkness takes over, and roaring, I shove my thumbs into his eyes.
His cry feeds my sadistic side, and when I dig his eyeballs out of their sockets, the fucker loses consciousness, ruining all my fun.
I climb to my feet, and picking up the submachine gun, I turn back to the Irishman and empty the magazine into his body.
“Feel any better?” Nico asks while he crushes the cigarette butt beneath his boot.
I drop the weapon on the ground and walk to the table where a twenty-four pack of water stands. Grabbing a bottle, I rinse my hands while muttering, “What do you think?”
“Sorry. Stupid question.” Nico lets out a sharp whistle to get our men’s attention, then orders, “Come clean up.” He walks toward me and asks, “Any specific place you want the bodies dropped off?”
“Scatter the heads around the docks. They can burn the bodies.”
As my men get to work, I head to the office at the back of the warehouse and take a seat behind my desk.
Nico comes in carrying a first aid kit. Without a word, he treats the burn on the side of my neck, a reminder of the single lucky shot one of the fuckers managed before I put him down.
He also cleans the cuts on my bottom lip and eyebrow.
My phone begins to ring, and I dig it out of my pocket. Seeing Dad’s name, I accept the call.
“Hi–”
“Riccardo’s been shot!” he snaps, his voice brimming with the rage I’ve inherited from him. “Fuckers were giving them trouble at a nightclub.”
Hearing my brother-in-law and sister have been attacked, my temper flares hot.
“Christ.” I dart to my feet and jog out of the office. Seeing Nico by the crates, I shout, “Call Enzo and tell him to get his ass to Tokyo. Also, get a hold of Augusto. Riccardo’s been shot. I want them on a flight ASAP!”
“Why aren’t you going?” Dad asks.
“I have a meeting with Dragomir. It’s taken me months to get him to agree to a sit-down with me.” Needing to know how bad it is, I ask, “Is Riccardo alive?”
“Yes. He’s been taken to a hospital for surgery. I haven’t heard anything else from Gianna yet. I’ll let her know Enzo is on his way.”
We end the call, and just as I’m about to find my sister’s number, my phone rings again, and seeing her name, I quickly answer. “Gianna, are you okay?”
“N-no,” she sobs. “Riccardo’s been shot in the chest, and our guards are dead. God! I don’t know what to do.”
“Enzo and Augusto will be up in the air within the hour. Stay at the hospital with Riccardo. Don’t you dare leave that building until Enzo gets there. Understand?!”
“Y-yes.”
I clench my jaw as I ask, “Who attacked you?”
“The Yakuza.”
Fuck. Just what I need.
I’m waging a war with the Irish and Albanians, and don’t have time for the Yakuza as well.
Nico comes jogging into the office, and gesturing at his phone, he mouths, ‘Augusto.’
“We’ll take care of everything. I’m going to hang up so I can talk to Augusto,” I say, then I remind her, “Stay at the hospital.”
“Okay.”
I end the call and take Nico’s phone. “I’m sorry about your brother, Augusto.”
“Give me your permission to handle the situation as I see fit.” His tone is rough with worry and anger.
Not fucking around and knowing he needs to be the one to exact revenge on the idiots for shooting his little brother, I say, “You have my permission.”
“Keep an eye on my family while I’m gone.”
“Of course. Once you get to the hospital, let me know how Riccardo is doing.”
“I will.”
The call ends, and just as I take a breath and hand the device back to Nico, mine begins to ring again.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I snap as I pick it up. I swipe over the screen showing my brother’s name. “Where are you?”
“I just grabbed my to-go bag. I should be at the airport in fifteen minutes.”
“I’ve given Augusto permission to handle the situation. Give him whatever support he needs.”
“And what if he wants to wipe out the Yakuza?”
“Then you let him do that. I don’t have time to worry about the Japanese.”
“Okay.”
“And watch your back,” I order. “If you get yourself shot, I’ll beat the hell out of you.”
Enzo chuckles. “Yeah-yeah. Talk to you later.”
I drop my phone on the desk again, and too worked up, I stalk up and down the office while processing the shit show as quickly as possible.
Nico waits patiently for me until I’m ready to issue orders.
A deadly stillness settles over me, then I meet his eyes, “Get a team of twenty men ready. I want them to be able to leave for Japan at a moment’s notice.”
“I’ll take care of it.” He hesitates, then asks, “Hugo and Ciro? They’re our best.”
“No. Ciro stays on Sienna. Now more than ever, I want him watching her like a fucking hawk.”
“And Hugo?” he asks.
“I need him here in case shit goes down with the Dragomir, the Irish, or Albanians. Have Nathan take the lead on the team for Japan.”
When Nico leaves to inform Nathan, I sit down behind my desk again and let out a sigh.
I open my encrypted laptop and log into the system Rosie set up for me. When she took over from her father, Uncle Dario, I was skeptical, but the girl has proven herself to be one of our most important assets. She’s even better than her father when it comes to hacking and tracking.
There’s a grid block with photos of the Cosa Nostra’s enemies, and I click on Constantin Dragomir. He’s the head of the Romanian Mafia and one of my biggest worries. His organization has the power to give the Cosa Nostra a run for our money. A war with him would cripple us and vice versa.
That’s the only reason we’re sitting down to talk. We need to come up with a way for both organizations to live in peace.
I check where he is, and seeing he was last spotted in Amsterdam, I move on to the next enemy. I keep track of all of them, so we’re not caught off guard, and I’m sure they’re doing the same with us.
Once I’m done, I check all the businesses, making sure everything is running smoothly.
Nico comes into my office, and placing a container from a restaurant on my desk, he says, “Take a break so you can eat.”
Mom would shit herself if she knew how much takeout I eat.
The only homemade food I get is whenever I visit her, which I’ve been doing less and less.
It’s to avoid the never-ending questions and fights because even though I’m turning thirty in three months and run the Cosa Nostra, she still treats me like a baby.
I love her for it, but I don’t want her to know how fucked up I am. It will break her heart.
Just to keep Nico from nagging, I pull the box closer and open it. Seeing prawns and rice, my thoughts jump to Sienna because she’s allergic to shellfish.
She’s one of triplets, but they’re all completely different. The only thing Sienna, Augusto, and Bianca have in common is their green eyes.
Augusto is strong and dominating, just like his father, and Bianca is one hell of an extrovert. Everyone loves hanging out with her.
But Sienna…she’s the quiet one of the three. Growing up, she hid behind her brother and sister and has always stayed on the sidelines.
Where Augusto and Bianca have made a place for themselves in our world, Sienna always stayed in the shadows, thinking no one would notice.
I did. Every fucking single time she entered a room, I felt her presence. Her quiet and shy nature drew me in like a moth to a flame.
While I tried dating in school, none of the girls could hold a candle to Sienna. Once I turned twenty-two and took over from my father, I claimed the only woman who could hold my interest.
The three months we dated quickly turned my budding feelings for her into an undying love.
The past seven years that have formed a gaping chasm between us have done absolutely nothing to minimize my love for her.
Instead, it’s changed it into a dark obsession.
It’s fucking ravenous, and only she can ease the hunger.