ELIANO #6
When I get in, I immediately notice he is dressed differently than usual.
Instead of his elegant, perfectly tailored suit that always looks immaculate, straight off a designer rack, he is wearing a black tactical sweater and black pants, the kind commandos wear.
I have to admit, it suits him. It matches his overall presence, which has always felt stern, almost military.
Out of all the omegas I know, Ennio has by far the least ‘omega energy’.
He comes across more like a beta soldier, harsh and cold, always on suppressants to hide his pheromones and on hormone blockers to keep his heats under control.
I’ve never seen him date anyone. He spent years fighting in omega cage matches, did two years in the military, and he’s the best sniper in the family.
Even Anzo respected him a lot. Ennio certainly did the Ferros a favor by expanding the family business into real estate development, which brought us fat millions.
"Where did you usually park?" Ennio asks right away as we merge into traffic.
"Behind the neighboring house."
Ennio makes a sound of disapproval.
"You’re serious? That street is definitely covered in cameras. If anything happens, a car parked on that property for two weeks would absolutely catch the police’s attention. You didn’t think that through, did you?"
I clench my teeth. "Ennio, I don’t want trouble anyway. I want to stay a free man, and I want to handle this as legally as possible."
"Be serious. That’s not always possible in situations like this."
I fall silent for a moment, since he’s right. "Damn it. So what do you suggest?"
"Ideally, we should wait at least a week. Although I’m almost certain that when the police follow leads like this, they review camera footage going back at least two months."
"I can’t wait that long. I have one week left to wrap this up. Let’s hope that whatever we find there will allow me to close this case for good."
Ennio presses his lips together and stares straight ahead at the road.
"I really need to stop helping people before it gets me into trouble someday," he growls.
"You’ve helped somebody in a situation like mine before?"
"More than one. Never mind. We’ll see what things look like on-site."
Ennio really is a puzzle.
Cold and abrasive on the surface, but underneath there has always been something about him that made me trust him instinctively.
"One thing I did take care of," I add quietly. "I mapped out paths along fences and backyards that let us stay out of camera sight." I offer this, hoping at least that will earn his approval.
He does not comment. Apparently, for him, that is simply the bare minimum.
We park two streets away, near a shop.
The rest of the way, he insists we go separately. He puts on a baseball cap and dark sunglasses, while I pull on my wig and a pair of sunglasses.
Before we split up, I show him the exact point he needs to reach on the map.
Ten minutes later, Ennio makes it to the neighboring building next to Tanner’s house without a mistake.
I show him the tactical situation through the window and explain that the only way in is via the downspout. Any other route would put us directly in view of the cameras.
While listening, Ennio pulls out his ever-present e-cig and takes a hit, and the distinctive vapor of a mild calming agent spreads through the air.
As long as I can remember, Ennio has always vaped this stuff, which is weird to me, because he always seems rock-solid calm, almost unnaturally so.
Even his heart rate is steady, and yet… he still uses it.
Makes you wonder why. None of my brothers has ever asked him about it.
"Let me bum a hit. I need to take the edge off."
Ennio slowly turns toward me. His eyes are black, so dark you can’t tell where the iris ends and the pupil begins. He has the same eyes as Rocco, which is a little unsettling. Looking into them is stressful, so I avert my gaze. I have no idea what he’s thinking.
He doesn’t say a word, just slowly hands me the vape. I take a drag, and it hits me that this stuff is not weak at all.
A moment later, my body loosens up, but my head stays clear, which is a rare combo. Good shit.
Suddenly, some movement catches my attention.
"Fuck," I mutter, handing the e-cig back to Ennio.
"The door’s opening…" I whisper.
Tanner walks out of the house, carrying several bags.
"Let’s hope he’s not getting rid of evidence," I mutter.
"Time for our move," Ennio says sternly.
"We need to assume he could come back at any moment. He doesn’t follow a fixed schedule."
Ennio rests a hand on his hip, where he is carrying a weapon.
"I’m aware."
"But I don’t want to kill him. He could be the key to—"
"This isn’t what you think," Ennio cuts in. "It’s a sedative."
I grimace, remembering Harvey Bram firing something like that at Salt. I carried him in my arms for almost a mile afterward, all the way to the ferry. I will definitely remember it for a long time.
Ennio tilts his head. "I also have the classic option," he adds, patting the second holster on the other side of his belt, "but I’m aware it would be better to talk to him. The information he has could be invaluable."
"Yeah."
Then I look him over. "You good at climbing the downspout?"
Ennio gives me a look that shuts down any follow-up questions.
As it turns out, he climbs first and does it in about half the time it took me. He is lighter than I am, looks wiry and athletic. Even though it’s been a decade since he trained in martial arts, it is obvious he has retained a lot of that physical capability.
Soon we are both on the roof. When Ennio sees the poorly taped cardboard over the window, he gives me a pointed look.
"Well, you didn’t handle this very professionally," he says dryly.
"Oh, come on. I’m not a professional criminal. And I was desperate."
"That’s obvious to me."
I do not respond, since he’s being typical Ennio.
We slip into the attic. I listen carefully the whole time, but for now, Tanner is not here.
We both move down to the lower floor, and I explain which areas I already searched. Ennio studies the walls, cabinets, and floors just as carefully.
His black eyes track along the surfaces with focus and intent.
Eventually, we enter the recording studio. I show him the bed and the thin seam in the floor running around it.
He circles the bed, checking it from different angles.
"The bed is permanently fixed to the floor," he says, touching one of the legs. "And it has a solid metal frame, not wood."
"What could that mean?"
He touches the bedding, then the pillow.
"All of this is secured. The pillows are sewn to the sheet. You can’t lift anything on this bed," he says, narrowing his eyes.
"Uh… weird. Maybe so the actors don’t destroy it during porn shoots?"
"It could also mean there’s a trapdoor under the bed."
"A trapdoor?"
"Yes. I saw a trick like this years ago. Some pervert used it to trap young omegas. They’d lie down, and the bed would drop."
"Damn! That’s a huge bed. Whatever’s underneath would have to be massive. A tunnel? That kind of construction would cost a fortune."
"You have no idea what people are capable of, or how far they’ll go to follow their perversions," Ennio says flatly.
"Then maybe I should just test it. We’re clearly not going to find an obvious door leading down. Wherever it is, it’s hidden too well. I’d bet even the police didn’t find anything when they searched this house."
"Agreed. If there’s a real entrance, it won’t be easy to locate. Although I’m not done trying yet," he says with a crooked smile. Then he adds, "The question is whether the trapdoor activates automatically or with a switch."
"We’ll find out if we test this theory."
"Are you sure?" Ennio asks darkly, stepping back toward the window.
"Yes."
Then I sprint forward and throw myself onto the bed, landing right in the middle of it.
But nothing happens. I roll around on the bed a few times, but… it doesn’t give way.
I glance at Ennio, disappointed. "Damn. Maybe there’s something that triggers it? It probably wouldn’t be very smart to have a bed that collapses without warning. Any random guest could fall right through."
Ennio rubs his chin and looks around. "Stay there. I’ll check something."
He starts circling the room, step by step, moving carefully. It takes a while. I watch him, but my hope slowly fades. And then…
A quiet click.
A fraction of a second later, I realize it was the right call.
The bed drops, along with a solid section of the surrounding floor. Anyone on it, even with fast reflexes, would have no chance to grab the edges.
I fall.
My body picks up speed purely from gravity, sliding down something like a water park slide, except the walls are metal.
And the difference is that I am moving insanely fast. I estimate the drop is about sixty-five feet.
Then I land in the middle of complete darkness.
Ouch! I am bruised, but nothing seems broken. I curse under my breath. "Mannaggia. Non ci posso credere." (Damn it. I can’t believe it.) Under stress, Sicilian tends to surface, since it was the language spoken at home when I was a kid.
I immediately pull out my phone and light up my surroundings. It is a small, dark room, maybe sixteen by sixteen feet, completely enclosed.
There is nothing in it. A bare floor. Bare concrete walls.
I look up. Right. No going back that way. The slide is almost vertical at this point. There is no chance I could climb the slick metal walls of the tunnel I came through.
So, I turn toward a door. That is my only possible way out. Clearly, Tanner designed this room to trap only omegas. I doubt he ever caught an alpha down here, especially one as furious as I am right now.
I walk up to the door and start kicking it with everything I have, then even taking a running start and throwing my full weight into it.
Ten kicks later. Plaster falls. The surface grinds and cracks. Finally, the door rips free from its hinges.