Chapter Ten #4
Ushering Eli inside, I step around the inner bunker guards and guide him straight to the couch. He sits down carefully, eyes wide as he scans the room.
“This is the most modern-looking bunker I’ve ever seen,” he mutters, blinking around. “Well, I mean, this is the only bunker I’ve ever seen, but still. I was expecting cots and shelves of bottled water. Not… this. This is like a luxury underground apartment.”
“And many, many rooms,” Riley says as she checks on Asher in the playpen. “Running water, Wi-Fi, a gym, and enough supplies to live down here comfortably for years.”
“Years?” Eli squeaks.
“Just a precaution,” I say, shoving a water bottle into his hands. “Listen, baby. I need you to stay here until I get back. Can you do that for me?”
“This is too much,” he pants. “Skip, I can’t handle this. Not the emotional kind…I mean physically. My body will drop if my heart rate and blood pressure drop too fast. Which always happens after my heart gets to beating way too fast.”
“Pity,” I tease, dropping to my knees in front of him. “Makes me curious what’s gonna happen when I finally get you beneath me. Because I can promise you something, baby, your heart will be racing.”
“I…don’t…I mean, I’ve never…so it might…”
“Skip, we have to fucking go,” Spike snaps. “Wrap it up.”
Chuckling, I lean in and kiss Eli’s forehead.
“We’ll test that theory later,” I promise softly. “Riley can show you our room. Get some rest.”
Then I push myself up and follow Spike out of the bunker, through the clubhouse, and out toward the gate.
“Was the package a timed bomb or did it go off when it was opened?” Bones asks Luca the second we reach the entrance.
“I don’t know,” Luca admits. “A guard at the front gate accepted the package and had someone bring it inside. Ten minutes later…there was an explosion.”
“Who was it addressed to?” Maverick asks, his voice flat.
“I was told it had no name on the package,” Luca says. “So it was most likely brought straight to Enzo.”
Maverick’s face tightens. Not only rage…but grief. Pure, unfiltered grief.
“Enzo,” he whispers. Then, quieter, deadlier: “Three children. I will get revenge.”
“And we’ll help where we’re needed,” Spike promises. “But first, let’s deal with this package.”
The ground vibrates beneath us a moment later. The unmistakable thump-thump-thump of rotor blades.
A helicopter drops straight into the compound like it owns the damn place, kicking up dust and wind.
“Just my men!” Maverick shouts over the roar. “I told them to rush and land as close as possible. They will not land here again, brother. You have my word.”
Spike nods once, shoulders squared, and steps forward to greet our uninvited… but now very necessary… guests.
Two men in full bomb-squad gear jog past us, visors down, movements precise. Spike points them toward the table where the package sits like a live snake.
Less than two minutes later, they’re back with their helmets off and suits unlatched.
“Clear,” one announces to Maverick, holding out the small package.
Maverick’s jaw tightens. “Did you check for release valves? Air-borne poison vents?”
“Fuck,” I mutter. “That’s a possibility?”
“A very deadly one,” the tech replies, tone flat and American. So, not all of the Don’s men are Italian.
“And yes… we checked. Nothing. No gas mechanisms, no chemical triggers, no pressure plates. It appears to be a paper envelope inside. Nothing more.”
Maverick nods, accepting the package, jaw tight. He turns and hands it to Spike.
The box is small.
Spike opens it, pulls out a plain white envelope, and slides the paper free.
His face doesn’t change… but the temperature in the air fucking plummets as he reads.
“I’m done playing games, Shadows. I know about the deal between you and the Italians, and I was willing to ignore it.
I had no quarrel with them… until they started digging into my business.
They’ve received their warning, and here is yours.
Getting past the Italians’ security was as simple as pie. Young guard. End of the shift. Tired.
Getting past yours… let’s just say that’s already been accomplished.”
A ripple of quiet rage moves through the men.
“You should teach your snipers not to nap on the job. Climbing over your wall while your precious family slept? A simple task for one of my lowest soldiers.”
“No fucking way,” Max mutters.
Spike keeps reading.
“Los Fantasmas will be setting up shop in the Valley very soon. I suggest you pack your things and vacate that compound… because I’ll be taking it.
Palm Springs belongs to me now. However…
if you’d like an incentive to stay in my territory as my loyal guests, I will allow it.
On one condition. Tu hermana…That sister of yours will do nicely.
I heard we’ve played with her before, though I wasn’t in Mexicali at the time to enjoy the opportunity. A pity you rescued her when you did.”
Spike’s knuckles turn white around the paper.
“I must marry to maintain my position…a tedious requirement. But her porcelain skin and snow-white hair will look beautiful kneeling at my feet… as my queen...dripping blood.
Talk soon,
Cortéz.”
Silence.
A thick, vibrating, unnatural silence.
The kind that settles right before a bomb goes off.
No one breathes.
No one blinks.
No one moves
Then…
Tank fucking detonates.
He slams his fist against the brick wall with a roar that shakes the very air around us.
“NO!”
His voice cracks, not with fear…with rage.
Pure, animalistic, soul-ripping rage.
“ABSOLUTELY THE FUCK NOT!”
He storms toward the helicopter like a man possessed, shoving past Bones, past Maverick’s men, past everyone.
“I’ll kill him…right fucking now,” Tank snarls. “I’ll fly straight into Mexicali and carve that bastard apart with my bare hands!”
“Tank!” Spike barks.
But he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow. He’s breathing like he’s been stabbed in the lungs, fury shaking his entire massive frame.
“That motherfucker thinks he can have her? He wants…”
His voice breaks, then comes back harsher.
“He thinks he can take her? He thinks he can make her his?”
He grabs the helicopter door and yanks it open so hard the hinges scream.
“That chopper belongs to the Italians,” Spike warns.
Tank’s eyes are wild. “They can bill me when I bring back Cortéz’s fucking head.”
Before Spike can answer, Maverick steps forward with a shrug.
“I’ll take the pilot seat,” he says casually. “Better odds of us not dying in the air.”
Spike whips around. “Absolutely not. Neither of you is flying into Los Fantasmas territory without a fucking plan.”
Tank growls like a feral animal ready to break off his leash. “He threatened Abigail, Spike. We both know what that means. I’m not sitting on my fucking hands while he plans to—”
“I KNOW WHO HE THREATENED!” Spike roars back, slamming his hand against the side of the chopper.
His chest heaves.
His face is carved from stone.
“She is my fucking sister.”
Spike steps closer, voice dropping to a deadly low rumble.
“And I promise you,” he says, every word shaking with lethal conviction, “We will take down Cortéz before he gets within ten miles of her.”
Tank’s jaw pulses hard enough to crack teeth.
Spike doesn’t stop.
“He won’t touch her. He won’t look at her. He won’t even breathe the same fucking air. I swear on my wife. I swear on my son. I swear on my uncle’s patch.”
He steps even closer, eyes locked with Tank’s.
“I swear on Abby herself.”
Tank’s furious breathing slows…barely.
“That’s not enough,” Tank growls, voice hoarse. “But it’s… something.”
“The best something you’re going to get,” Spike says. “Because if you go off half-cocked tonight, you’ll get yourself killed. And then Abigail loses you, and you know exactly what that will do to her.”
Tank shuts his eyes for a split second. Pain ripples across his face. Real, raw pain he’d die before admitting.
Then he shoves the chopper door closed and steps back.
He’s not calm. He’s definitely not okay. He’s just… barely leashed.
“Now we need a fucking plan,” Spike says. “Maverick, is there any possibility Cortéz knows who you are?”
“I’m not stupid enough to say no.” Maverick crosses his arms. “I’ve run my empire from the shadows since we left Calabria. But if he dug deep enough…old photos, old articles…he’d find me front and center in any Moretti clan media back in Italy.”
“So it’s possible,” Spike mutters.
“But not likely,” I cut in. “He’d need a reason to be suspicious. And he probably researched all of us already. You’ve lived in Palm Springs longer than half our men. You blend better than any damn chameleon. He’s got no reason to single you out.”
“Even still,” Bones adds, voice like gravel. “Let’s operate assuming he doesn’t know who Maverick really is. That works in our favor. How do we use it?”
Maverick lifts his phone with a wicked little smile.
“I already contacted my uncle in L.A. about the attack on my estate,” he says. “He handles things when I’m not there. I’ve ordered a fleet of my men to Palm Springs. Discreetly, of course.”
“A fleet?” I raise a brow. “Just how many men do you have?”
“Oh, my sweet, nosy, never-shuts-the-fuck-up friend,” he chuckles. “Fucking thousands.”
“Thousands?” I repeat.
“Five thousand in the U.S.,” he clarifies. “More than ten thousand globally.”
“Wow,” I breathe. “Okay, that’s… shocking.”
“That, brother,” he says, pride leaking through his voice like gasoline near a lit match, “is my empire. And it’s why I vanish for weeks at a time.
I run everything from here, where I get as much peace as a Don can have.
But sometimes the boss has to show his face.
Remind the clan who the fuck is in charge. ”
“That’s hot,” I say, fanning myself dramatically. “Fuck, Maverick. Your Boss voice is giving me a boner.”
“I’ll be sure to let Eli know,” he deadpans. “Then he’ll know to only mention my name if he’s having trouble getting you excited.”
I stare at him.
I blink.
And in my mind, I’m already giving my brother the kind of makeover that requires a plastic surgeon and a closed casket.
“Don’t worry,” I smirk. “My dick’s in a constant state of agony whenever that boy’s within ten feet of me.”
Knuckles snorts. Spike, of course, ignores us entirely.
“Alright, here’s what’s gonna happen,” Spike says, rolling right over the conversation. “Tank and Bones, I want you both to go back with Maverick.”
“That’s not necessary,” Maverick replies. “My men already have the guards contained. My family’s being moved as we speak.”
Spike drags in a slow breath. “Look, brother… I know I can’t order you around. Hell, I never could. You refused to join us, and now I know why. And I get it. I truly do.” His voice softens. “But nothing that’s happened changes the fact that you’re our brother. Patch or not. Don… or not.”
Maverick’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“I know you’ve got men who can handle your business,” Spike continues. “But I want Shadow support at your side every step of the way. I’m not stepping on your toes as Don, and we’re not backing out of our agreement. But this fight?” He gestures between them. “We go through it together.”
“Besides,” I add with a wicked smirk, “you’ve seen Bones’ handiwork. I’m sure your men would enjoy the show if you let him play with your lazy guard. Man sharpened his favorite blades just yesterday.”
“You’re not wrong,” Maverick chuckles, dark and unbothered. “Alright, Bones, you’re with me.” He turns. “Tank, if you wouldn’t mind tagging along with Luca and helping him secure the shelter until the rest of my men arrive.”
Tank’s jaw flexes. “Brother, no offense,” he growls, “but I am not in the right state of mind to be around your family right now. What I need is someone to beat.”
“You’re exactly who we need then,” Luca says, stepping in before Maverick can answer. “Right now, we don’t trust our guards. Someone might have betrayed us, and until we figure out who, they’re all getting locked in the shelter cage.”
Tank lifts a brow.
“There are two I know for a fact will fight back when I give the order,” Luca continues. “Twins. Rage issues. Strong, mean, play dirty. Think you can handle them?”
“He can,” Maverick says with absolute confidence. “Just don’t kill them. I don’t believe they’re the traitors. They’re my cousins and have been loyal for years. But I can’t show favoritism.”
Tank nods once, sharp and eager. “Let’s go.”
We nod our goodbyes, and I follow Spike back towards the compound.