13. Teo
13
TEO
“ W hat the hell, Teo?”
I could kill her.
I will kill her if that’s what it takes.
But she’s looking at me like that, with her big chocolate eyes all wide and innocent. As if she hadn’t just thrown herself into a den of vipers. That is what pushes me over the edge.
“The only thing that should be coming out of your mouth is a fucking apology,” I growl as I throw my helmet to the ground.
She has the audacity to look startled. “An apology? For what?”
“The cartel, Isabella?” I run a hand through my hair. “Do you have any idea what they would have done to you?”
“I didn’t ask you to follow me,” she seethes back. “I’m not going to apologize for the fact you don’t know how to stay out of my fucking business!”
“So you had a way out? Bat your eyelashes until they roll over for you, was that the plan?”
“I can handle myself,” she sneers. “The Princes' Hand has no quarrel with the cartel. That’s the Guild’s mess, not mine.”
This fucking woman.
“You’re still Italian, sweetheart. It doesn’t make a shred of difference to them.”
Her eyes narrow. “I can handle myself.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
I readjust my grip on her arm and start to drag her up to the house.
“What the HELL are you doing?” she all but screams as she fights against my grip.
“I told you, you’re not going anywhere.”
“LET ME GO!”
I ignore her, dragging her, kicking and screaming through the front door, making sure to hit the button that will close the gates behind us. Huge, twenty-foot metal gates groan shut behind us.
Without thinking too much about it, I throw her into the living room. She turns on me the second I let go, but I step backward and shut the door in her face.
The banging that follows is to be expected. The screaming, too. But it’s not my fault she doesn’t try the handle. Maybe then she’ll figure out she’s not locked in at all.
I just need a minute.
One fucking minute.
With one long exhale, I gather myself and take in my surroundings.
The air is a little stale, I’ll admit. It’s been a while since I needed to come home. The Guild’s compound has bedrooms, and after the last couple of weeks of surveillance work, I’ve been lucky to have more than five minutes to myself.
Still, as I stalk into the kitchen, I’m pleased to find the maids have stopped by and the fridge has been restocked. I pluck out an ice-cold beer and press the glass to my forehead.
The relief is only temporary, I know. But for a blissful moment, the pain of my throbbing headache subsides long enough for me to think clearly.
When I was alerted that Isabella was on the move again, I didn’t believe it at first. After the incident at the Prince’s Hand, I assumed she’d be on damage control all evening.
But perhaps assuming that a woman like Isabella Natali possesses more than a crumb of common sense was my own mistake.
It was sheer dumb luck that she came out of the bar when she did. I was about to run off for reinforcements. Over the river might be neutral territory, but the bar was crawling with cartel guys, and I would never have been able to get her out alive on my own.
And even if I had managed to persuade someone to back me up, how could I convince them to risk their lives for her? For our enemy?
I hadn’t been thinking, no. I can’t think straight when she’s around and so obviously in danger. It didn’t matter when I attacked that guy at the gym, but if I keep this up? With the cartel sniffing around? It will suddenly become very, very political.
And I can’t afford to lose any more support right now, not if the Guild is to have any hope of taking down the Prince’s Hand.
Suddenly, the object of all my headaches stumbles breathlessly into the room.
“You didn’t lock the damn door,” she hisses.
“Never said I did.”
“Then why even bother?”
I turn on her, wildly frustrated. “Because I couldn’t hear myself think over your damn complaining!”
“Oh, so you can actually use that head of yours? You know that you’ve just kidnapped me, right? You know what my brother will do to you now?”
“Probably give me a damn medal of honor for saving your life!”
She looks about ready to tear her hair out. “I told you, I had it handled. It’s over, done.”
It takes me a second to realize she’s not joking. It hits me out of nowhere, the bubble of laughter that is suddenly shaking through my entire body. I let it out, barking cruelly at her murderous expression.
“You really think this is over?” I finally manage to croak out. “You poked a fucking bear, belle.”
For the first time since she got off the motorcycle, she seems to hesitate. “What are you talking about?”
I take a long drag from my beer before pushing past her and out into the hall. Next to the front door is a basic surveillance setup equipped with a live video feed of the front of the house.
It only takes a couple of taps to show what now lies beyond the metal sheets of my front gates.
“Is…is that?” Isabella’s voice breaks off at the end.
No less than a dozen men in thick leather jackets wait outside the gate. Cartel men.
Some lean against bikes, others dare each other to climb the slick surface, while one tries to break apart the console on the gate. Not that they will get very far. This place is locked up like my own personal fortress.
When I look back at Isabella, it’s to find her looking far smaller than she was a moment ago.
“Did you seriously think they wouldn’t follow you?” I snap.
She looks at her feet, an oddly childish gesture. “I didn’t think they’d care that much.”
It would be easy for me to chastise her ignorance. God, even walking into a bar like that on a good day is unbelievably risky. But the cartel’s response this evening is a symptom of something beyond her control.
“Amos Rubio put a KOS on the Guild when he found out Giuliano Moretti was dead. Giuliano had been feeding the cartel information about us for months and it seems Rubio didn’t appreciate being cut off,” I explain.
“Is that why Rocco killed his father?”
I meet her eyes and shake my head. “No. I killed Giuliano Moretti.”
“ You? ” Isabella looks half inclined not to believe me.
I put a finger to my lips and wink before opening the front door.
“Where are you going?” she shouts after me.
“To clean up your mess,” I reply as I march forward. “Stay inside.”
“There are at least twelve of them!”
I turn so that I’m walking backward. “So if I die, my death can be on your hands.”
I spin back around before she can protest and head toward the main gate.
The property doesn’t have a huge footprint, but when the gates are open, you usually get a pretty nice view of Staten Island. On a nice day, even the Statue of Liberty can be spotted along the river.
But the reason I chose it was for the quieter, residential area and the millionaire neighbors who turn a blind eye to whatever you might be doing behind closed doors.
And, well, with the gates closed…
There’s a small shed by the gate. It’s inconspicuous enough, although it takes me a moment to open the padlocks on the door. Within the shed is a monitor that displays the same feed that I have running inside.
Here, I get a better look at what I’m dealing with.
Twelve men exactly. Some are still attempting to climb the gate, while others are just leaning against it, clearly just waiting to get a reaction out of me.
I wait until the next person tries to make the scramble up before pressing the button.
The dull hum of electricity reaches me a split second before the screams. I watch in delight as six of the cartel immediately drop to the ground.
The metal gate is the perfect anti-home invasion measure, as long as you don’t inform the HOA.
After a second of watching the others scramble to help their friends, I click on another button.
“Can I help you?” I speak into the microphone, knowing that it’s projecting my voice to those who are still conscious.
One of the remaining cartel members roars in frustration and throws himself at the gate to try and open it. Only I haven’t turned off the electricity yet. He falls just as hard as his comrades.
“Anyone else?” I comment dryly, earning me a few glares. “All right. I suggest you leave my property before your intrusion becomes tiresome.”
One of the men steps forward, hands shoved into his pockets to appear at ease. I recognize him immediately as the man who sat next to Isabella at the bar.
“Teo Vitale!” he yells loud enough for me to hear. “We know she’s in there. Come out and talk to us! Or are you just a coward, hiding behind these walls just like you did with Rocco Moretti?”
It’s a pathetic jab at my ego and not one I care to rise to. “You have twenty seconds.”
“So what? The Italians are banding together now? If my enemy was that hot, I’d be throwing away my pride, too.”
“Ten seconds.”
“I only wonder if the rest of the Guild know about this.”
I hesitate. There can’t be any loose ends here, and he already knows that.
With a groan, I rack the gun hidden beneath the floorboards and head out toward the gate itself, mentally chastising myself for getting myself into a situation like this. At least I had the foresight to grab the silencer.
I let out one long breath, focusing myself before I kick the gate open.
Zip, zip, zip.
Three bullets meet their targets. Three men go down.
The two that remain already have their guns trained on me.
The ringleader, the man who spoke to me before, grins back. His friend behind him is huge, almost towering over the both of us as his eyes dart between us.
“The name’s Luis,” the ringleader states, “and you just took out my crew.”
“Not all of them,” I retaliate as I quickly aim at the huge man’s shoulder.
Zip. The bullet hits him and he grunts.
Luis retaliates in kind.
His gun is annoyingly loud. Loud enough for the light to switch on next door, a detail I note instead of the searing pain that crashes through my own shoulder.
The brute of a man drops to his knees, but I grit my teeth and hold steady. I’m thankful that my own leather jacket covered the tactical vest beneath it. I’m already irritable about the bruise that will no doubt appear before morning.
But from the look on Luis’ face, he hasn’t realized that yet. So, I stagger forward, clutching my shoulder so that he doesn’t question the lack of blood.
“You’re on our turf, Luis,” I sneer back. “You think Rubio is going to let you live if you kill me here?”
Luis snorts. “Do you think Rubio gives two shits about you? You might be the don of the Guild, but they’re dropping like flies right now.”
I stagger forward again, letting myself drop low before.
Whack.
I kick him hard in the abdomen, forcing him to keel over. With another blow, I use his recovery time to disarm him completely.
A stray blow ricochets past my ear, but I dodge easily. I grab hold of his arm before he has a chance to retreat and bring it down on my knee, perhaps a little too hard.
Snap.
“Fuck!” Luis hisses as he cradles his broken arm back to his chest. “You’re insane.”
“What do you want with Isabella Natali?”
He blinks at me. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
I kick him again in the chest, sending him to his knees again, very aware of the red and blue flashing lights that have appeared in the distance.
“You will stay away from her. You will not touch her. You will not even look at her. Do you understand me?” I glare down at the man before me and consider just killing him now to make things easier.
Still, Luis barks a laugh. “Did hell freeze over? A Vitale protecting a Natali?”
I reach forward with my good arm and pull his hair back with a sharp tug. “Let me make myself very clear. You can’t have her because she is mine to kill. Do you understand?”
I throw him to the ground just as the sirens start up.
“Oh, and tell Amos Rubio, if he insists on messing with Guild affairs again, the KOS will be mutual.”