Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Enzo watched Kathleen bite her lip and wipe her palms on her pants, her nerves showing more than she probably realized.
“You can always go back. You don’t have to be here, Kathleen,” he reminded her.
“I do have to be here. I explained all that,” she shot back.
He frowned but gave a small shrug, choosing not to push further even though every instinct told him to.
She was stubborn and taking a risk that could get her killed.
But he understood that look in her eyes; she needed control.
Needed to feel safe on her own terms, not because some man promised to keep her that way.
He couldn’t blame her really, but he also knew if anything happened to her, he was a dead man, so he was determined to keep her safe.
He’d seen too many people underestimate danger because they wanted to prove something to themselves. He was not letting that happen tonight.
He scanned the square. The Duomo glowed under the night lights, and despite the late hour, it was packed with too many tourists.
The crowd made his skin prickle. There were eyes everywhere, hands everywhere, and he didn’t like that Kathleen was this exposed.
He had men watching, positioned on the edges of the square, each one wired into his comms. She didn’t know the full extent of it, and he hadn’t told her.
Some things were better left unsaid when nerves were already frayed.
If he could have managed it without anyone noticing, he would have had twenty men surrounding them, but he knew that wouldn’t fly.
He looked around the square and then spared another quick glance at Kathleen. She’d agreed, albeit reluctantly, to follow his lead tonight. He wasn’t convinced she’d stick to their agreement, which made him even more uneasy.
The crowd surged, pressing closer, and his jaw tightened. Anyone could hide in that mass of bodies. Anyone could be the one sent to finish what had started earlier today. It made him want to grab Kathleen and haul her out of there, but he knew she would resist.
He leaned slightly toward her. “Do you see him?”
“What?” Her eyes flew up to his face, startled.
“The guy from the alley. Do you see him anywhere?”
“Oh.” She started scanning, eyes darting from one shadow to the next. He watched her closely, waiting for a flicker of recognition.
“No,” she said finally.
A burst of laughter from a nearby group of teenagers made her jump. Enzo’s gaze flicked toward them. Just kids. But even that fact tightened his nerves another notch. He turned back, and that’s when a man stepped out of the crowd, right in front of them.
“Do you have it?” the man asked.
Enzo glanced at Kathleen, and the recognition on her face let him know that this was the man from the alley.
The guy was an inch or two shorter than Enzo but was wider in the shoulders.
He had a powerful build. Not someone who would go down easy in a fight.
The hat he wore was pulled down low over his eyes, so it was hard to get a good look at his face.
Enzo had instructed one of his guys to take pictures.
Hopefully, he would manage to get a useful one of this man’s face.
“Yes, we have it. But first, you’re going to tell me why the hell you guys tried to kill us today.” Earlier, the man had said they hadn’t tried to run his car off the road. But doubt nagged viciously at the back of Enzo’s mind.
The man blinked, and his mouth tightened almost like he was surprised. “Kill you? What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb. On the highway from Lugano.”
“I told you before. I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t try to kill you.”
Enzo’s gut tightened. If it hadn’t been this guy, then there were other players involved, which is what he’d feared. More players meant fewer chances to anticipate what was coming. “Well, your two guys went down an embankment. I have no idea if they lived.”
“Shit.” The man’s jaw clenched. “That wasn’t us. I don’t know who that was.”
“But you know more about it than you’re saying,” Enzo prompted.
The guy opened his mouth and then shut it again. He glanced around and frowned. “Let’s just say there are more …interested parties…than just us out here looking for this thing. That’s why you need to give it to me. Now.”
Enzo ran his eyes over the crowd. He needed to be aware of everything just in case.
He glanced at Kathleen. She’d gone pale but was standing her ground.
He turned back to the guy as the light reflected off something in his ear.
An earpiece. Of course. That confirmed he wasn’t alone, although he’d said “us” earlier, so it didn’t come as a surprise.
Kathleen stepped forward, her tone sharp. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Enzo couldn’t agree more. He swung the backpack off his shoulder and brought it in front of him. He’d argued earlier when she’d wanted to carry it. Thank God he’d won that one.
“And I have your guarantee you’re not going to try to kill us?” he asked, his voice low, hard.
“I told you I didn’t try to kill you the first time. I’m sure as hell not going to do it now. Once I have this, you’re out of this as far as we’re concerned.”
Enzo started to unzip the bag when movement in the corner of his vision made him tense. A cyclist cutting through the square too fast.
Kathleen gasped next to him, and Enzo grabbed her arm, pivoting, putting himself between her and the incoming bike.
The rider lunged, fingers brushing the edge of the backpack, pulling it from Enzo’s grasp, but the biker didn’t have a good enough hold on it.
The bag went flying through the air and then hit the cobblestones hard.
The man in the hat dove for it, but tourists got in his way. Enzo moved faster. He snatched the pack, grabbed Kathleen’s hand, and ran. They sprinted across the square, into the Galleria, weaving through the throng until they burst out the other side.
“Why didn’t you let him have it?” she panted beside him.
Enzo didn’t slow. His head was on a swivel, scanning for threats.
“You could have just left the backpack. It would have all been over,” she said in an accusing tone.
“I’m not so sure,” he ground out. “There’s more than one player in this game.
And until we know who’s pulling the strings, it’s not safe.
The guy said once he had the bag that we were out of it as far as he and his people were concerned, but these other players are unknowns.
And this is the only bargaining chip. Until we know more, you’re not safe regardless. ”
The crowd thinned as they reached the street. That’s when he heard it, the whine of a motor. He turned, and the biker was back. This time on a motorcycle with a friend and a gun.
Enzo shoved Kathleen ahead of him and cut down a narrow alley. “Run!” The shout echoed off the stone walls as they tore through the passageway. A gunshot cracked behind them, the bullet sparking off the wall above Kathleen’s head. She screamed. He yanked her harder, taking the corner at full speed.
A car waited, doors flung open.
Enzo pushed her inside, dove in after her, and slammed the door. The car lurched forward, engine roaring. He barked orders, the words sharp and clipped. The driver answered just as tersely.
The tires screamed as the sedan fishtailed out of the alley, clipping a row of trash bins and sending them spinning across the cobblestones.
Enzo braced one arm against the door and the other around Kathleen’s shoulders, forcing her down as another shot cracked through the night.
The rear window shattered, glass spraying across the back seat.
“Merda,” Enzo hissed. “They’re still on us.”
The driver, a compact man with sharp reflexes, jerked the wheel hard right, plunging them down a narrow side street that barely fit the car. The headlights flared off ancient stone, the echo of the engine bouncing between walls like thunder.
“Matteo, where’s Danny?” Enzo demanded. His capo was usually behind the wheel.
“He’s in another vehicle waiting for instructions,” was Matteo’s clipped response.
Kathleen clutched the seat belt, trying unsuccessfully to pull it on. It was locked with all the harsh braking and wouldn’t let go. “They’re still there!” she yelped as she finally twisted and got the seatbelt clicked into place
Enzo twisted to look. The motorcycle burst out of the alley behind them; two riders crouched low.
The one in the rear raised a gun, muzzle flashing in staccato bursts.
Bullets tore through the air, pinging off metal, ricocheting against stone.
He was pretty sure one lodged in the rear quarter panel by the sound of the metallic thud.
“Down!” Enzo shouted. He shoved her lower just as the rear window shattered and spewed glass over them. Another round tore through the headrest.
Matteo slammed the gearshift down and gunned the engine. The sedan leapt forward, barely clearing a fruit stand as the vendor dove for safety, shouting curses that disappeared behind them.
The bike gained on them again, weaving with terrifying precision through the twisting streets. Enzo watched through the rearview mirror, calculating angles and timing turns. They couldn’t outrun the bike in the old quarter, too tight, too exposed.
“Left!” he barked. Matteo obeyed instantly, tires screeching as they cut across the Piazza. Tourists scattered. Flashing lights, shouts, the sound of horns, but Enzo tuned it all out. His focus tunneled to the rhythm of pursuit.
A sharp pop echoed, one of the bike’s shots lodged in the dashboard. Matteo swore, ducking instinctively.
Enzo reached under his shirt, pulling his gun free. He twisted in the seat, braced himself against the doorframe, and fired back. The muzzle flash lit the interior for an instant. One shot clipped the bike’s front fender, sparking against metal.
The rider wobbled but corrected.
“Enzo!” Kathleen’s voice cracked as she pointed to the traffic snarl ahead.
“Turn left,” Enzo directed as he keyed his comm to tell his people where they were.
Static, then Danny’s voice came through the earpiece. “We see you, boss. Two blocks ahead.”
“Set the trap at the alley. It’s narrow enough to bottleneck them.”
“Understood.”
The car screeched off the bridge, barreling into the labyrinthine streets of the south riverbank. Milano blurred by in streaks of yellow light and shadow. Another gunshot cracked. Kathleen flinched but didn’t scream this time. Her hand gripped his arm, steady, defiant.
Matteo’s voice was tight. “They’re still gaining!”
“Keep going,” Enzo ordered. “They’ll have one shot at us, no more.”
They rounded a final corner, tires slipping on the wet stones. The back end of the car fishtailed with a sickening lurch, slowing their forward momentum. As Matteo cranked the wheel hard, Enzo spotted his men, two black SUVs positioned across the narrow mouth of an alley.
“Go straight through them,” Enzo said.
Matteo didn’t hesitate. The SUVs separated just enough to let their car squeeze through. Behind them, the motorcycles roared into view.
Enzo’s men swung out of cover, weapons drawn.
The night erupted with gunfire. Muzzle flashes lit the alley like lightning.
One of the bikers jerked and fell sideways.
The motorcycle skidded, but the driver caught it and swerved, barely avoiding a wreck, and tore down a side street, disappearing into the maze.
Matteo slammed the brakes. The sedan skidded to a stop behind Enzo’s men. Smoke and dust hung heavy in the air.
Enzo opened his door and stepped out, gun still in hand. His pulse thundered in his ears. The smell of hot metal and gunpowder clung to the night. Danny approached.
“Clean the scene,” he ordered curtly. “Find out who they are.”
Kathleen sat frozen in the back seat, eyes wide but steady, watching him through the shattered glass.
He met her gaze across the chaos. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then he holstered his weapon and exhaled.
“They’re not done,” he said quietly. “Whoever sent them—they’ll come again.” His gut roiled. He knew that this was only the beginning. Whatever the hell Kathleen had inadvertently gotten involved in had the power to kill them all.