Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Callum shifted gears in the rental car. “It makes me nervous that no one met us at the airport. I expected a full complement of Vitale’s men. Hell, I expected them at the airport in Paris.”
Enzo grunted. “He knows we’re coming. He still has Bianca, so it’s a given, But don’t kid yourself, he’s watching us.”
Griffin sighed. “I just hope he bought the whole escort thing.”
“You sold it. It looked like you two were in control. The only thing better would be if I were in handcuffs. Airport security wouldn’t have liked that much, though.
” Enzo didn’t bother to say that if Vitale didn’t buy it, he would probably kill both of them.
They knew it, and he knew it. He was just trying to appease them.
He needed their help. God only knew what Vitale had waiting for them.
Callum wound the SVU up the hill, leaving the sights and sounds of Mallorca below.
Enzo tried to run scenarios in his head, but it was no use.
He wasn’t sure what he’d be up against. Vitale was one slippery fuck.
Anything was possible, but the man was also in trouble which added a whole other layer to things that could go wrong.
Griffin and Callum seemed to be okay working with him and they’d hashed out a few things on the plane, but realistically, he had no idea if he could trust either of them. It wasn’t their fight, so he didn’t blame them.
His thoughts drifted to Kathleen. She’d made her position abundantly clear.
She’d had her fun with him, and now it was over.
He wasn’t sure if she really cared about him or she just didn’t want to feel guilty if he ended up dead.
Fair. She owed him nothing. He was a big boy.
He understood the rules, and he broke them.
It’s not her fault he fell for her. She wasn’t responsible for him.
It did rankle that she didn’t feel the same, though.
Even if he’d read the signals wrong, which he didn’t feel he had, her rejection stung.
Even her warning had felt like a small concession. Here he was going into the lion’s den with nothing but his good looks to save him. Be careful, she’d said. He’d left careful behind a long time ago and tonight that just might be the death of him. Not her problem.
They made a sharp right turn onto a gated road.
The guard just nodded to them as they went by.
The driveway climbed fast, narrow, and deliberate, hugging a cliff as it wound upward.
Enzo clocked the placement immediately, no wasted turns, no blind approaches.
No one stumbled onto this property. They were led to it.
A villa perched right on the edge of the rock, unapologetic about it.
Stone and glass, modern lines anchored into the cliff face, the structure cantilevered just enough to make a point but not enough to be architecturally significant.
It wasn’t a villa set to be fawned over.
It was there to perform a function. It was a fortress.
From the drive, the terrace was impossible to miss; wide, open, and hanging over the water below. There were people milling about on it; no doubt this is where Vitale waited for them.
Enzo’s first impressions of the villa were expensive, well-thought-out, and dangerous. That also described Vitale, or at least used to describe him. Now, who knew? Desperation changed people.
The sea stretched out beneath the villa, deep blue and deceptively calm, the drop sheer enough that anyone going over wouldn’t get a second chance. Enzo noted the height automatically. Not for the view.
For the fall.
Callum eased the car forward. “By the look of things, Vitale didn’t just choose this location for aesthetics.”
“No,” Enzo agreed. “He chose it because gravity does half the work for him, and the tide will carry away any proof of his crimes. Just remember, once we’re on that terrace, it’s going to be hard to get off without going down.”
“Wonderful,” Griffin grunted.
Callum parked the SUV. “Do you think the Callahans are already out there somewhere?”
Enzo glanced around, knowing he wouldn’t see them. “I guarantee it. They are excellent at what they do. I haven’t known them long, but in my business, I have learned to be a good judge of character. These people will not let you down.”
Enzo stepped out of the car and waited for Callum and Griffin to flank him. They still had to sell the charade. It was a small thing, but it might guarantee their safety.
The air smelled of briny salt, warm and sharp. He took a deep breath, and then they headed for the front door.
It opened before they reached it.
Inside, the villa was cool and quiet, the temperature shift immediate. Stone floors. Clean lines. High ceilings that carried sound. Enzo catalogued his impressions quickly, learning the layout. Everything was expensive, but nothing was soft. No art. No personal clutter. Just structure and intent.
Vitale didn’t live here. He used it.
They moved through the main room, following the mountain of a man who had opened the front door.
Enzo automatically tracked angles and exits.
Glass walls framed the sea ahead, making it seem friendly with the sun sparkling off it.
He knew differently. He caught the faint echo of voices somewhere to his left.
Possible security, positioned close by but not right on top of Vitale. Confident? Or careless?
The doors to the terrace stood open. They stepped outside.
As expected, the spacious patio widened abruptly, the stone giving way to open air and a view that dropped straight into blue. The terrace stretched along the cliff edge, broad and exposed, with nothing between it and the water far below except a low stone barrier that wouldn’t stop much.
The sea rolled beneath him, calm on the surface, violent underneath. From here, the height was undeniable. Enzo felt the pull of it immediately, not fear, but awareness. The kind that settled into his bones and reminded him how final gravity could be.
Vitale had chosen well. This was a place designed for decisions that couldn’t be taken back.
And Enzo knew, as he stepped fully onto the terrace, that someone wasn’t walking away from it tonight.
Alessandro Vitale stood near the balustrade with a glass of whiskey, perfectly at ease, as if this were a dinner invitation instead of a reckoning. He didn’t turn when Enzo approached. He didn’t have to.
“You’re late,” Vitale said mildly.
Enzo stopped a few feet away, still flanked by his escorts. His jaw was tight, his pulse steady only because he forced it to be. “I’m here.” He silently added, Stronzo.
Vitale smiled into his glass. “You are. And alive. That’s always encouraging.”
Enzo said nothing. He wasn’t here for pleasantries. He was here to end this.
Vitale finally turned to fully face his guests, his gaze sharp and assessing, the way it always was when he was measuring how much leverage he still held. “Did you enjoy France?” he asked. “Such a romantic country.”
“You sent men to kill me,” Enzo replied flatly. “On a train. In public.”
Vitale’s shrug was elegant. “You ran. That makes people nervous.”
“You broke our agreement.”
Vitale’s smile thinned. “No. You did. But we’ll come back to that.”
Enzo felt it then, a shift. The faint, unmistakable sensation of a trap tightening.
Footsteps rang on the terrazzo pavers behind him, but Enzo didn’t turn around. He knew those gaits anywhere. Rocco and Bianca. They moved around Enzo’s little group.
Rocco let out a small chuckle. “Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Enzo studied his former boss. He wasn’t looking well.
His face and waistline were puffy, and his eyes darted around like he was high.
Coke, if Enzo had to guess. Rocco’s father always had a rule against using the product.
Rocco didn’t live by that one, and if Enzo wasn’t mistaken, he was on the way to dying by it.
He looked like he was in the throes of addiction. Not good.
“Bianca,” Enzo addressed his former girlfriend, “are you okay?” He ran his gaze over her.
She looked much like she always did, well put together with her dark hair shining and her smile to match, but he knew her better than that.
The lines around her dark eyes had deepened, and fear lurked within them.
Her smile was brittle and pasted on. She was not in a good place.
Bianca let out a tinkling laugh. “Well, of course I am, sweetheart.” She came forward and kissed him on the cheek. “So good of you to come rescue me.” She moved away again, grabbing a drink off a table on the side and taking a seat, as if prepared to watch a show.
Vitale studied Griffin and then Callum. “You were…useful,” he said finally. He raised his chin. “Follow Juan, and he will pay you. Then you may leave.”
“What about the video?” Callum demanded.
Vitale’s smile was cold. “I think I will hang on to that a little longer. I might need your help again.” He paused. “Where is your sister?”
The pair remained silent.
Vitale nodded. “Fair enough.” His next words were deadly and low. “Leave now before I change my mind.”
Callum tensed beside Enzo, but Griffin merely turned on his heel and followed Vitale’s man off the terrace. Callum hesitated and then fell in behind his brother.
Rocco had taken a drink and sat down on a chair by his sister. “Enzo, you look like shit.”
“You’re not looking so hot yourself. Business not going so well?” He couldn’t help but needle the other man.
“Fuck you,” Rocco snarled. “I’m not the one who’s going to die here today.”
Enzo’s stomach knotted. Just as he’d expected. “You’re trying to blame me for this mess, is that it? It’s my fault. So you kill me to ‘save’ your sister? Oh. and I’m sure you’ve come to some arrangement with Alessandro here that will benefit La Famiglia.”
Rocco grinned. “Why yes, actually. This is the best deal I’ve put together in a long time. Getting rid of you, a permanent thorn in my side, with the added bonus of new trade lines with the cartels. Who is the undisputed leader of La Famiglia now?”
Enzo glanced at Bianca. She was staring at her brother. “He didn’t fill you in?” Enzo tsked. “Not cool, Rocco. Bianca, you should be worried. Your brother isn’t playing nice.”
She briefly narrowed her eyes at Enzo but remained silent. Then she went back to shooting daggers at her brother.
Enzo cocked his head. “Did Vitale tell you he owes big money to the cartels? One cartel in particular, actually.”
Rocco just snorted. “I know about it. It doesn’t matter.”
Enzo tsked again. “But did he tell you he owes over one hundred million and counting? And that the specific cartel isn’t the only organization he owes. Alessandro here has been skimming for quite some time.”
Rocco stared at Enzo. “You lie.”
“On occasion, but not this time.” He turned to Vitale and smiled smugly. “Tell him, Alessandro. Tell him how it wasn’t a loan you took from the cartel but money you stole and invested poorly. Now they’re out for your blood.”
Vitale’s face went hard. “You need to think before you speak.”
Rocco shot to his feet, causing three bodyguards to converge on the terrace around him. “Is this true?”
Vitale waved away the bodyguards. They backed up a few feet but didn’t leave.
That sucks. Enzo was going to have to recalibrate now that there were four men on the terrace with guns ready to kill him if he stepped out of line.
Vitale’s expression was stoic. “It’s irrelevant. I have the means to pay them off. Our relationship is cordial. I told you I would make the connection between you and Melendez, and I will. It’s fine.”
“You, however,” he said to Enzo, staring at him with laser focus, “did not keep up your side of the deal. You forgot something in France.” His smile was cold, and Enzo’s gut tightened as more footsteps grated on the stone patio.
“Kathleen, my dear. How good of you to join us,” Vitale said.
Dominic suddenly appeared on Enzo’s right, pulling Kathleen by the arm.
Kathleen’s gaze connected with Enzo’s and never left. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. The apology was there anyway, unspoken, unnecessary, and devastating.
“She doesn’t need to be here,” Enzo said, his voice lethal.
Vitale chuckled. “I beg to differ. She’s my insurance policy, and I mean to cash out.”