Chapter Six - Joshua
CHAPTER SIX
Joshua
“What’s your name?”
The question gives me pause, not because I think Elise needs this information but because of her expression when she asks it.
Thin brows furrowed, delicate lips parted, big eyes searching mine for answers. Even now, when her clothes are tattered and her hair is matted and tangled, she’s beautiful.
There’s a tug in my chest that makes me want to tell her the truth.
I’m about to open my mouth to do just that when a flash of movement stops me. Before I get the chance to look around, pain explodes on the left side of my forehead.
The force momentarily blinds me, and I reach for my gun, but it’s gone. Just as I realize what’s happened, the gun comes down in the same spot a second time. My body slumps to the floor while being cursed to hell and back by my mind, which has already put together Elise’s plan.
Blood drips down my face to the carpet, and I can already feel a nasty bruise forming on my skull.
When I raise my head, I find the exact scene I expect.
Elise stumbles to my desk, the gun shaking in her timid grasp, and takes the cell phone I carelessly left sitting there.
The phone that only has one contact.
I push to my feet despite the debilitating headache she’s given me, but it’s too late. Her fingers clumsily hit the keypad, and the phone only rings once before he answers.
Mason’s mumbled voice comes through the line, and it’s as if all the air has been sucked from the room.
Elise’s eyes widen in horror, all the blood draining from her face as the phone clatters to the desk, and she falls to her knees.
I take advantage of her shock and shove myself to my feet, taking the gun from her limp hand and lifting her by a tight hold on her arm.
“Ryder!” He bursts into the room at the same time that I shove Elise over the desk and pull her hands roughly behind her.
When his eyes flit between the discarded burner phone, the gash on my forehead, and the look on Elise’s face, he quickly puts the pieces together.
A small whimper draws my attention to the girl in my arms and the death grip that I have on her wrists. It’s not until that moment that I realize she’s not resisting me. There isn’t an ounce of defiance in her.
When her hands are cuffed, I notice the blank expression on her colorless face.
She has no idea what she’s done.
Ryder wordlessly takes hold of the girl, pulling her from the room while I reach for the phone that’s still on the line with Mason.
The heavy pit in my stomach turns as I bring the phone to my ear.
“Mason.”
“Tell me that wasn’t who I think it was.” His voice is tight.
“I’ll deal with it,” I tell him, though I have no clue how.
“Deal with it? What the hell is there to deal with? The whole plan just went off the rails!”
“Watch it,” I warn, clenching my fist to contain my frustration. “I told you I’d deal with it. The plan will go on as normal.”
“How the hell did she even—”
“The plan goes on as normal. Don’t check in unless you absolutely need to. I won’t risk your father getting suspicious of you.”
There’s a pause, and despite the fact that we both know he has a lot more to say about this, there’s only one acceptable response.
“Yes, sir.”
Friday, April 10: six weeks earlier
I burst through the door, cutting off all conversation in the conference room. The five capos of my main base here in Los Angeles surround the table. They straighten respectfully at my entrance, but their attention is directed at the man who stands regally at my side.
Though Mason Consoli has worked with the Moreno family for years, his physical attendance is a rarity that puts all my men on edge. The hesitation is understandable but unnecessary. He’s followed every order to the letter, never once giving me a reason to doubt his loyalty despite his bloodline.
My capos don’t bother hiding their glares, but Mason doesn’t seem intimidated in the slightest. He takes his place on the left side of the conference table, but I remain standing behind the head chair.
Ryder sits to my right, face utterly expressionless as always. Donovan Riley, Alec Tonis, Tripp Singleton, and Kade Manning fill the remaining chairs and look at me expectantly.
Each of these men has worked their asses off to earn their spot at this table, which is how I know I can trust them with the details of the plan I’ll be implementing in the coming weeks.
Ryder and Mason share an icy look, but I don’t interfere. They’ve never been particularly friendly with one another, but it hasn’t affected their work, which is all I care about.
“I’m making a move to claim the remaining southern territories that would give us control over the Mexican border,” I state, getting right to business.
I lower the video screen and press the button that turns it on to show a map of the United States of America, colorless aside from the dots that mark various bases occupied by the five major American criminal families.
The Morenos, Consolis, Marsollos, Diazes, and Riveras.
Hundreds of mafia families reside in each of our territories, but all with the permission of their designated family.
I look over the green dots that represent my West Coast empire with pride. It’s been a long journey to accomplish everything I have, and I’m far from done.
Consoli’s red markings span over three regions—Midwest, Southwest, and Southeast. Though his strongest bases are Midwestern, his influence is nothing short of admirable, albeit annoying as all hell.
“Gabriel Consoli is planning to put a base in Austin to be established by his Dallas and Houston locations. We’re going to beat him to it and take Houston from him while we’re at it.”
“Why not put all our resources into taking Austin first, then go from there?” Kade asks.
I point to the map. “Because with El Paso being our closest base to Austin, we won’t be able to sufficiently protect it if Consoli attacks from his Dallas and Houston bases. By taking Houston, we weaken him and have a fully armed base to help develop and protect Austin.”
Donovan straightens in his chair. “And how exactly do you plan to take Houston? As you said, we can’t fight against his two bases there.”
“Well, Mr. Riley.” Mason stands from the table and straightens his blazer. “We won’t be taking it by force.”
Though no one asks, the question hangs heavy in the room.
Mason throws me a look, and I nod for him to take over.
“Elise Consoli. Recognize the name?”
Tripp rolls his eyes. “Your dead sister, we know.”
He’s never been one for sympathy.
Mason sharpens his glare and says, “She’s alive and has spent the last six years in hiding.”
My men aren’t easily surprised, but I can hardly blame them for their shocked silence.
Ryder gives me a look, and though nothing in his expression changes, I read the message: are you sure about this? The lowering of my head is my confirmation. It’s only been a few days since Ryder and I learned of this development and formulated our plan.
The news was initially infuriating.
Mason’s been under my command for four years now without a single mention of his sister. It’s a secret that he deliberately kept from me, and I nearly put a bullet in his head for that alone, but the value of the information saved his life.
Up until this point, Gabriel Consoli has been an impenetrable fortress, but Elise is his weakness.
“You get her, and my father will do anything to get her back, including surrendering these territories.”
“Consoli’s don’t surrender,” Alec says. “Everyone knows that.”
“Which is why he staged her death after the attack on our family home six years ago. He made it look like she got caught in the crossfire, then sent her to Milwaukee, where she lives under the alias Annie Smith.”
Tripp barks a humorless laugh, and we all turn to him. “Why would you keep this a secret for so long? I don’t buy it.”
“What are you suggesting?” Ryder asks.
Tripp leans back in his chair. “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m only pointing out that it’s a big secret to keep.”
Instead of giving reasons or excuses, Mason simply pulls out his phone. He puts it on speaker, and the ringing fills the room.
“Mason, what’s up?” The voice is unmistakably feminine, soft, and melodic.
“Hey, Elise. Nothing really, just thought I’d call to check up,” he answers, eyes never leaving Tripp’s glare.
The girl groans. “You’re worse than Dad. You’d think half a dozen security guards would calm you down some, but nope.”
“Where are you?”
“Nowhere anyone can hear me, don’t worry. I’m not new to this, you know.”
“Excuse me for questioning your stealth.”
She laughs, and the sound is like music. “It’s like you guys forget I’m just as much a Consoli as the rest of you.”
Mason raises a challenging brow to Tripp, who cuts his eyes in response.
“You’re right, you’re right,” he says.” When are you coming home next?”
“Um, next Saturday?” It’s more a question than a statement.
“Why do you say it like that?”
“Because it’s been on Dad’s calendar for three months now, just like every visit ever.”
Mason laughs, and though the sound is effortless, his face remains stony. “You’ll have to forgive my forgetfulness. I haven’t been to the base much this week.”
“Good. You work yourself too hard. Take it easy, okay? I love you.”
“Love you too. Bye, Elise,” he says before ending the call.
There’s a beat of silence as my capos come to the same conclusion I had only days ago.
Elise Consoli is a gold mine.
Mason tucks the phone back into his pocket, folding his arms over his chest. “Any more questions?”
Present day
I brace myself on the wooden rail that lines the windows of my office, gripping it so tight my knuckles turn white from the strain.
My head still throbs, but the cut is cleaned and bandaged.
There’s a knock on the door, but I don’t bother calling him in. Ryder opens the door a moment later, though I don’t turn to face him even when the door swings shut. We’re encased in a thick silence as we process the implications of our situation.
“How did it happen?”
“She’s craftier than we gave her credit for,” I bite, releasing the railing and stretching my aching fingers as I stride to my desk.
“What are we going to do?”
“What is there to do?” I shake my head. “There’s no way we can establish these bases without Mason. I can’t let her screw this up for us.”
“There’s no way we can get the bases without this deal going through. Consoli won’t bend for anything aside from her. You can’t just refuse to give her back. You’ll start a full-on war.”
I rack my brain, desperate for anything that could help me figure out what I can do about this.
“I need time,” I tell him. “I’ll call Consoli first thing in the morning and schedule a meeting for Monday. Maybe I can buy us a few more days with these negotiations.”
Ryder nods. “I’ll make arrangements for the trip.”
“Have Donovan make a list of reasonable negotiations we can work with. Alec can pick the meeting point and analyze all routes and possible ambush points along the way. Kade will need to keep an eye on their digital activity to ensure they’re not planning to blindside us with anything.
If we’re doing this last minute, we can’t afford to be sloppy. ”
He makes the notes on his phone and leaves my office the second I finish giving orders.
My mind, which was full of strategies and ideas only a moment ago, wanders to the girl who put me in this mess. Despite the headache that her stunt has literally given me, anger’s not the emotion that accompanies the thought of her.
Her expression when she was in here, pale and broken, tugs on something in my chest that I don’t understand or like.
I tell myself she brought this upon herself, and I can’t be held responsible. Giving her back for the territories was always my plan, and it’s her fault that can’t happen now.
If it weren’t for the incessant pounding in my head, I’d allow myself to feel bad for Elise. I can’t exactly blame her for trying to contact home. Who wouldn’t in her position?
Unfortunately, this girl has a luck streak from hell.
It’s these confusing thoughts that lead me out of my office and across my base. When I reach the door, I wave a dismissive hand to the soldier on duty there, and he leaves with a respectful nod.
As soon as my hand touches the knob, I hear scuffling on the other side of the door. I push it open and find the wide, puffy eyes and red, splotchy face of a terrified girl. Her small frame is curled into a ball with her knees pulled to her chest on the pathetic excuse for a mattress.
If the thought of her tugged on my chest, then the sight of her crushes me in a way that urges me to turn from this room and never return.
Even so, I can’t bring myself to do it.
But I can’t bring myself to comfort her, either.
“Daughter of the most notorious mafia boss in the country, reduced to tears. I thought you were stronger than this, Elise.”
She closes her eyes, drawing a shaky breath. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I usually wouldn’t be inclined to agree, but you continue to surprise me.”
Her eyes snap open at that. She hadn’t been expecting me to agree with her, and really, I hadn’t either, but it’s true.
She hadn’t shed a single tear during our time in the basement, a fact that nearly knocked me on my ass. Her witty retorts were ready on the tip of her tongue no matter what I made her endure.
It was a stark contrast to the timid, stuttering girl I went on a date with.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re resilient,” I admit, fully expecting the confusion that twists her face.
She says nothing as she studies my expression, and I walk toward her. I’ve made it one step before she shuffles to a standing position, hands raised protectively in front of her.
“Calm down,” I say in an easy tone, but she shakes her head.
“Get away from me,” she mutters hoarsely.
I don’t. Step after step, each one slowly draining the color from her face until she’s concerningly pale. As I get closer I see the subtle shaking from her panic.
I reach for her face, wanting the color to return to her rounded cheeks simply because I miss the shade of pink.
My fingers are outstretched, but right before I can make contact, she darts past me.
There’s nowhere for her to go—the door was locked the moment I walked in—but I still catch her arm. My grip is tight, and I wait for her to resist, but she doesn’t.
“Where the hell do you think you’re—”
She turns just in time for me to see the green that colors her face before she leans forward and vomits all over my shoes. Eyes rolling back in her head, Elise collapses to the ground.
Damn it all.