Prologue VI Constantine
Prologue VI
Constantine
I sat in the car, all the lights off because I’d been sitting at the curb for hours.
Finally, my target left the closed restaurant and got into his Bentley.
I watched him drive up the street before I fired off a text. On the move.
When his taillights started to fade, I started the car and pulled onto the road. The road he was on came to a three-way stop, and I took another street so I’d come out on his left and look less conspicuous.
When I got there, he’d just finished his pause at the stop sign, then continued on his way.
I turned right and pulled in behind him.
Then my phone rang, and I saw Edric’s name on the screen. I ignored his call and directed it to voicemail because I was busy.
But he called again. “Jesus, what?” I answered the call and put it on speaker. “I’m busy right now, Edric.”
“He knows, and he’s coming to kill me,” he said breathlessly, like he was literally sprinting down the street.
I immediately pulled the car over, abandoning the operation in the blink of an eye. “All right, I’ll get there as fast as I can. What’s your move?”
“I don’t fucking know. Run and hide.” He hung up.
I immediately called Tommaso, who probably wasn’t even awake right now. It was one in the morning, and he usually sent the rest of us out to do these kinds of operations. But he answered and spoke normally. “What is it, Con?”
“The Skull King is about to kill my brother, and I need your help.”
“My help?”
I pulled back onto the road and headed to the airport, where our stash of planes was parked. “You know I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to.” I wasn’t enough of a force to oppose the Skull King. He’d cut me open and hang me to bleed in his meat locker.
“I warned you—”
“I told him to get out, but he didn’t listen.”
“Then that’s not my problem, Con. He made his decision.”
“Well, I’m headed to the airport because I’m not going to let my brother die. So if you don’t want me to fucking die too, then you better help me.”
It was less than an hour flight there, but it was even quicker than that because we were able to just take off and push the engines faster than air traffic controllers would normally allow—but no one was on duty at the moment.
We landed in Florence, had our connections pick us up in SUVs already loaded with guns, and we headed into the heart of the city.
I’d been calling my brother ever since we landed, and he hadn’t answered once.
“This might be a recovery rather than a rescue,” Tommaso said honestly.
It was one of those times when I didn’t want honesty. “He might have just dropped it.”
“Dropped it after they grabbed him?”
“Shut up, Tommaso.”
“I’m sticking my neck out for you, so don’t you fucking tell me to shut up.” He turned to the driver. “Go to their headquarters. Whether Edric is there or not, we need to speak to the Skull King.”
I didn’t have a better plan, not when I couldn’t talk to my brother. “Can you call him?”
Tommaso sighed as he looked at me.
“Call him.”
I didn’t have Darius’s number, and even if I had, he’d have no idea who I was. He wouldn’t listen to me.
“This is a really fucking stupid idea, Constantine.”
“I know.”
“Then I want something in return for this.”
“Name your price.” I’d give him every fucking euro I’d earned if he helped me get my brother back.
“Marry my daughter when she turns twenty-four.”
That was his request? “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“That’s my price.”
“She might not even like me.”
“I’m sure she will, Constantine.”
“I might not like her.”
“Does any man like his wife?” he demanded.
“I would fucking hope so.”
“We got a deal or not?”
“No. I can’t promise that. What if I meet someone?”
“Then have a mistress.”
“I’m not that kind of man.”
“Which is exactly why I want you for my daughter.”
“Tommaso, you’re fucking crazy. The answer is no.”
“Then swear to me you’ll consider it, when the time comes.”
“We’re talking, like, nine years from now. What if I’m already married?”
“That’s fine, but you won’t be,” he said. “You want me to put my life on the line, that’s what I want.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, fine.”
He extended his hand to shake mine. “I know you’re a man of your word.”
I shook it, potentially trading my future for my brother . . . who might already be dead.
He pulled out his phone and called the Skull King. It rang and rang.
Shit. “Call him again.”
Tommaso repeated the call, but the same thing happened. “What did Edric do to piss off Darius?”
I didn’t want to say. If I told the truth, none of them would help me.
Tommaso continued to stare at me. “Con, what did he do?”
I shook my head. “I—I don’t know.” I lied. Went against everything I believed in and fucking lied . . . just for a chance to save him.
The Skull Kings operated out of a large villa that used to be an apartment building. They’d taken it over and renovated it. Darius occupied it as his primary residence, with a militia of men to guard him.
I assumed his wife lived there too.
We arrived, and Tommaso asked for an audience with Darius—said it was a matter of life and death.
If I’d been the one to make that request, I would have been denied.
We were escorted inside, into a large foyer that was mostly empty space except for the couches arranged around the enormous hearth that was dead and cold.
Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their lights set to low, and there were old paintings on the wall that seemed to be left there by the previous owner.
We’d barely stepped inside when the double doors were thrust open with enough force to make them smack against the walls.
Nearly flew off the hinges. Shirtless and enraged like a bull, the Skull King entered, a man of immense girth and strength, with eyes that were pitch black like the underworld.
“Life and death? What could possibly be life and death when no one lives or dies in this city without my say-so?” He screamed like we were the ones who’d had an affair with his wife, and then he stopped when he looked at me.
It took less than a second for him to understand.
“It’s his life that you’ve come to plead for.
” He moved closer to us, a behemoth of a man who was six and a half feet tall, with so much muscle he must eat a cow every day to maintain his strength.
He moved to me, ignoring everyone else like no one else stood in the room.
“I should kill you too—just for the fucking likeness.”
“Name your price, and I’ll pay it.”
He stepped closer to me, attempting to taunt me with his size.
I wouldn’t be intimidated, not when my brother’s life was on the line, my twin, the person I’d shared more life with than anyone else.
“Are you married?”
I hadn’t expected that question. “No.”
“Then there is no price you can pay.” He stepped away. “Your brother is dead. But I’m glad you’re here because I’d love for you to watch.” He nodded to one of his men who stood by the door.
“There’s gotta be something you want—”
“I want his come out of my wife’s pussy.” He turned back to me with a quick spin, moving his enormous mass with ease. “And her mouth. And probably her ass too—because she’s a fucking whore.”
Tommaso immediately turned to look at me—and the accusation was fierce.
“Well, she was a whore. Snapped her pretty little neck.”
Jesus Christ.
A moment later, two guys dragged Edric inside, his wrists and ankles bound in zip ties. His face was already bloody, like he’d taken a serious beating, and he was dropped like a sack on the carpet.
I didn’t look at him for long. My eyes focused on Darius.
Darius started to pace the room, swinging his arms across his chest like he was about to step into the ring and fight to the death. “Unbind him. I’d like to watch him run . . .”
The guys came over and cut the zip ties.
Edric struggled before he stood up, like he already had a ton of bruises underneath his clothes. His eyes glanced at Tommaso and the others, but when they found mine, they stayed.
I stared back, fucking terrified this was the last time I’d ever look at my brother.
Darius walked over and punched him in the back of the head so hard he flew straight to the carpet.
He barely caught himself before he smashed his face into the floor.
Then Darius grabbed him by the ankle and jerked him back.
“You thought you could stick your tiny dick in my wife and get away with it?” He lifted him and slammed his head down hard into the carpet.
I moved forward.
“Fucking suicide . . .” Tommaso hissed at me under his breath.
“Name your price,” I begged. “We’ll kill your enemies with guns or trade. We’ll do jobs for you for free. We’ll pay you millions—in case. Whatever you want, I swear to you I’ll make it happen—”
He stomped on my brother’s knee, and the pop was loud like a gun.
“Ahhhhh!” My brother screamed, and I’d never heard him scream like that.
The Skull King stared me down like a lion on the hunt for prey—like I was next on his list. “I don’t like your fucking face.” He moved back to my brother and lifted his foot, staring right at me like I was the true recipient.
“Please.” I raised both of my hands, begging for the first time in my life. “Whatever you want, I swear I’ll make it happen—”
He stomped on his other knee, and there was another pop.
Edric screamed again, the anguish making my ears ring.
Tommaso moved in front of me and grabbed me by the arm. “There’s nothing we can do.”
“He’s still alive—”
He shoved me back. “There’s nothing we can do.”
“Ahhhhhh!” My brother screamed when another bone snapped.
“I’m not going to leave him here.”
He shoved me again. “Don’t do this to yourself. We need to leave while we still can.”
“Here comes the spine.” Darius moved over my brother and raised his boot above his stomach, ready to paralyze him.
“No!” I pushed past Tommaso and ran forward.
The Skull King slammed his boot down—and the scream made me sick.
I lost my footing and fell forward, heaving with tears that came from my soul. I tried to crawl forward, but Tommaso and the guys grabbed me and started to drag me away.
The last thing I saw was Darius stomping on my brother’s face over and over, smashing his skull into pieces, his brains flying out . . . while one of his men rolled in an oil drum to shove the remains into when he was finished.
The corners of my eyes blackened, my vision was blurred, I was so sick I felt my dinner come back into my mouth. I was literally dragged out of there by Tommaso and the others, yanked out to the street, and then I collapsed and threw up all over myself.
“Come on, move.” Tommaso grabbed me by the arm and forced me forward, forced me into the back of the SUV, and told his men to take off before the Skull King came after us. “Go, go, go. Straight to the airport.”
I threw up again, lying on the floor of the SUV, staring at the back of the driver’s seat.
“Jesus Christ, you almost got us all fucking killed, Con.”
I breathed and I heaved, stuck with the final memory of my brother . . . being broken into pieces. I didn’t care that Tommaso and the others were in the car. I sobbed. Sobbed my fucking heart out.