8.Luca
Luca
“Angelo lost consciousness again. We’ll have to wait until he wakes up,” Mariano burst into the office Flavio had set up for us in his villa, his frustration palpable.
“If he doesn’t start talking soon, I’m going to lose it. I’m this close to cutting his head off,” he continues, his voice tight with tension, but I remain focused on the laptop screen in front of me.
“Father of the year, Angelo,” I throw at Mariano without taking my eyes off the screen.
“Records of rape, domestic violence, relationship violence, trafficking—what hasn’t she been through?
How did he let her live like this with all the money he makes?
” I shoot at Mariano, unable to comprehend how the daughter Angelo had always described as the ‘diamond’ of his family had gone through all this.
“Do you think she knows about us? About what her father does?” Mariano asks suddenly, making me reconsider.
“With everything she’s been through, I wouldn’t be surprised if he sent her to do some dirty work for him.
For now, let’s give her the benefit of the doubt.
Send one of Flavio’s men to follow her and report back the moment something looks off.
And keep Flavio in the loop,” I order, still pondering about her as Mariano leaves the room to check on Angelo in the basement.
Why did the French let her go? Knowing we would retaliate as soon as we found out, why not eliminate her or force her into their networks?
I immediately message Pedro, telling him to gather intel on her kidnapping from his sources.
In New York, Pedro and our men razed all of Martin’s properties immediately after Angelo’s capture, dealing a crippling blow they won’t be recovering from any time soon.
Pedro confirmed Martin’s death in the house explosion, and his brother Will is now missing.
The mission is nearly complete—I just need to unravel Mariana’s role in this puzzle.
Following Mariano downstairs, I find Angelo sprawled unconscious, his face bruised, and his body lacerated, dressed only in torn pants.
Mariano’s knife has done its work. I approach, slapping Angelo hard to rouse him.
He coughs blood and opens one eye; the other has been cruelly gouged out by Mariano.
Despite being soft at times, especially with Cora, Mariano’s expertise in torture is undisputed.
I wipe my hand clean, unfazed by the blood. Behind me, Mariano prepares hot pliers, their tips glowing red with heat. Cora’s husband and this monster are worlds apart, I think, my glance tinged with irony as I nudge Angelo onto his back with a light kick.
“You’ve been working with us long enough to know where this leads, Angelo,” I say with a cold threat.
He chokes on his own blood, trying to laugh defiantly.
“You think I am scared of this? I knew what I was up against. I know my fate. Just end it quick, for the sake of all the years we’ve worked together,” he rasps, turning his remaining eye to me, pleading.
The most dangerous people are those with nothing left to lose, and Angelo knows it well, attempting to leverage it.
Mariano approaches with the pliers, ready to continue the work, but I signal him to stop with my hand.
He stops in his tracks, saying nothing, understanding where this is heading.
A flicker of hope flashes in Angelo’s eye for a brief moment until his gaze falls on my icy glance. He realizes I have a plan.
“There’s no way you’re getting out of here alive.
However, your daughter will be a fine addition to our club.
Just yesterday, one of our top girls in the private rooms lost her hand due to a mistake with a client,” I say casually, emphasizing the word mistake before continuing, “Someone needs to replace her. After all, you tried to put a hole in our pocket; it’s only fair your family pays it back,” I say with a smile that the devil himself created, watching the dread seep into him.
“My daughter has suffered all of her life. I don’t understand why all of New York is on her back. The French, the Russians, and now you?” He responds with a question, as if we’re in a negotiation.
The Russians?
How are the Russians involved in all this?
Before I could ask, he sighs than coughs, this time spraying blood a bit farther, so I quickly take a step to the side.
“Either way, the Russians are already tracking and controlling her every move. You’ll start a war with them if you intervene.
At first, when the French took her, I did what I had to do to free her from them.
But it seems she was using drugs from the Russians behind my back and got into heavy debt with them.
They took her from the French in some deal, and now she works for them.
When you caught me, I was so close to finding the last location she was seen,” he explains, as if he’d been waiting for me to come and listen.
The puzzle pieces start falling into place, and now I know what I need to do.
“Does she know about us?” I ask, my face blank, showing no emotion at his story.
He shakes his head weakly, “If she knew, she wouldn’t be stupid enough to make deals with those Russian bastards.” I believe him.
“I give you my word that I will get your daughter out of there and ensure she is safely secured in Vegas, well taken care of. But in return, you will need to update us with all the information you’ve gathered from the French.
Every shipment, every transfer, everything.
After that, I promise you a quick death,” I make my final offer before handing the reins back to Mariano, confident he’ll agree.
“Any information you provide here that turns out to be false would come at your daughter’s expense. Consider that,” I add with a cold threat.
He nods in agreement. Bingo. Success.
I turn to Mariano and signal him to extract everything Angelo knows with a slight nod. Finally, I can deal with what’s been on my mind since I saw her mesmerizing turquoise eyes. Alin.
I quickly call Pedro, updating him on the information Angelo gave me about Mariana and the Russians, asking him to verify the information with his informants among the French.
I want to understand how they handed her over so easily to the Russians.
He confirms and ends the call. He’s handled everything himself in New York, and I finally feel like I can breathe a sigh of relief, knowing he’s starting to take things seriously and stop with his childish games.
Before calling Flavio to update him on the developments, I quickly send Graham a message to monitor Alin’s phone regularly. Call, messages, anything that comes in or out of her phone, I want an update. I’m going to solve this mystery whether you want me to or not, Alin.
A call comes in just as I send the message to Graham. It’s Flavio.
“Angelo’s daughter is working with the Russians,” he announces as soon as I press the green button to answer.
At least that’s news I already know.
“Have you located her?” I ask, not surprised.
“You knew? Why aren’t you as surprised as I am right now?” he asks suspiciously.
“We just got it out of Angelo. The Russians made some deal with the French, took her to work for them. Looks like she has some unfinished business with them, and they wanted to settle it. Did you find her?” I update him, respecting his position as the capo of Vegas, and ask again.
He confirms.
“Looks like she’s dealing with some of their street rats here.
I hate them. They always bring cheap goods here, tarnishing the neighborhood’s image with their mixed garbage and running off before we can catch them.
I’d be more than happy to deal with them once and for all now that my people have all of them in sight. ”
Great. He saved me the headache of locating her and checking everything myself. And now he could get her out too? He practically handed me my promise to Angelo on a silver platter.
“Need help from me and Mariano? Once she’s out, I trust you’ll take her under your protection. Take good care of her,” I ask, knowing he’ll keep his word.
“On it,” he promises. “No need, there are only five of them here; my people have all of them in sight. Seems it’s my lucky day; they were just dividing up their trashy goods. They’ll take care of them, and I’ll keep Mariana close and ensure she’s well taken care of.”
Just as I thought, everything’s playing into my hands, all the puzzle pieces falling into place.
“When you’re done with them, do me a favor. Make sure their bosses know this is a gift from me,” I say, and he laughs.
“Luca, you love to provoke everyone. It’s going to come back to you eventually,” he chuckles.
“I’m not provoking; I’m just giving reminders that seem to have been forgotten over time,” I reply and end the call.
We’ll stay here under the radar for a few days and then head back to New York.
It’s about time.