Chapter 33
Thirty-Three
“Everything is going as planned,” Kenzo says, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the video call screen. His voice is steady, almost indifferent. “Surveillance picked up Megumi leaving the compound a few hours ago.”
He deliberately avoids calling her mother , as if distancing himself from the inevitable. We all understand what’s in store for her. Salvatore doesn’t tolerate liabilities, and she has become a significant one. It’s only a matter of time before he eliminates her.
“I can’t believe she fell for it,” Adrian chimes in, his voice laced with amusement as he leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “For someone who always bragged about being several steps ahead and knowing everything, she sure as hell didn’t see this coming.”
“Desperation creates room for mistakes,” I say with a casual shrug of my shoulder, glancing at the screen. “We need to ensure we know exactly who she’s been in contact with.”
“That might be a bit of a problem,” Hiro interjects, stepping into the camera’s view with a large tablet in hand. His expression is grim. “The police scanner reports a large explosion in Lafayette. Three townhomes have been destroyed, and several bystanders were killed, including Megumi.”
“ Cazzo ,” I mutter under my breath, frustration tightening my jaw. “Let me see if I can get Gia to pull the footage.”
The trio turns their attention to me, their eyebrows raised in unison.
“What?”
The corners of their mouths twitch upward in knowing smiles. “So, it is going well then?” Adrian asks, his grin widening as if he’s figured something out.
Seeing as I fucked her so much last night that when I left our bed for my meeting at noon, she was still passed out cold in our bed, yeah, it is going well. But I am not going to tell them that.
“We’re making progress,” I reply, keeping my expression neutral.
“Glad to hear it, brother.” Adrian’s grin fades, replaced by a more serious demeanor. “Did you tell her the new part of the plan?”
“No, I haven’t, and I’m not going to.” Adrian lets out an audible sigh, nodding his head with a silent understanding. Gia needs to remain unaware of what’s about to unfold in Italy. We can’t let anything slip, and she needs to play her part, even if she is unknowingly playing it.
“We are wheels up in sixty minutes,” Kenzo reports. “We’ll be landing in Miami just a few hours before Matthias and Liam. Tomas and his men will be flying into Italy ahead of us. The tour company schedule has planes landing at the airport every day around the same time. That way, we don’t have all of us landing at the same time.”
“Good.” I nod my head, satisfied. “We’ll make sure to meet you with everything ready. It’s going to be a long trip.”
After a few more minutes of idle chatter, the three of us disconnect, allowing them to prepare for their departure. Stretching my arms over my head, I gather the details Hiro provided about Megumi’s last known whereabouts and make my way out of the office in search of my wife.
I find her seated comfortably on the veranda, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow over her as she sips from a tall glass of lemonade. Her attention is absorbed by the sleek new e-reader I had Dario purchase for her, a thoughtful upgrade to spare her eyes from the constant strain of her phone’s small screen.
Nearby, Marcello stands vigil, his posture straight and attentive, though I notice a twitch of impatience in his brow. I stifle a quiet laugh as I approach, listening to my adorable wife engage in a one-sided conversation, her voice animated and light, while her eyes remain glued to the virtual pages.
Marcello’s eyes flicker toward me as I step through the door, his expression a blend of relief and exasperation. Trying to conceal my amusement, I press my lips together and gesture subtly, signaling that he can take a breather. With me here, his watchful presence is no longer required.
Leaning down, I whisper in my wife’s ear. “Good afternoon, amore mio .”
Setting her e-reader on her lap, she turns to me with a bright smile.
“Hello, husband.” Fuck, I love it when she calls me that. “How did your call go?”
“Good,” I tell her honestly. “I need to see if you can dredge up some footage for me. ”
Gia perks up at the mention of helping. “I’d love to.” Her eyes light up when I hand her the information. “When do you need it by?”
“Kenzo and Adrian will be here in about five hours.” She nods her head, already getting up from her lounger, her e-reader forgotten as she delves further down the rabbit hole.
“I’m going to need access to your laptop,” she says, making her way back into the house. I can’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm for the project. I know in the future I am going to need to involve her more in the business. Gia isn’t the typical mafia wife. Her father might have groomed her for the role, but that isn’t who she is. My wife likes to be involved. Thrives on it and I want to make sure I give her that as much as I am able.
“It’s on the dining room table for you,” I tell her. “When we get back from Italy, I will have Dario get you your own.”
“Thank you,” she says, leaning in for a quick kiss before she makes herself comfortable at the table and gets to work. Watching her immersed in her passion fills me with a gentle warmth. Her eyes sparkle with delight, and a contented smile graces her lips as her fingers fly over the keyboard.
Leaving her be, I navigate my way back to my office. As I walk, I shoot off a quick text to Dario. He’s already waiting for me when I turn down the hallway.
“Are we all set?” I settle into the leather chair behind my desk. I reach into the bottom drawer, retrieving a bottle of amber whiskey and two crystal glasses.
“Everything is a go,” Dario confirms, accepting one of the glasses I’ve filled with the rich, caramel liquid. “The men will meet us at the airstrip. The weapons have been stowed, and the paperwork for the trip has been filed.” He takes a deliberate sip, the warm liquid eliciting a groan of appreciation as it slides down his throat.
I take a sip of my own drink, savoring the smooth, smoky flavor, and nod. The weight of the moment hangs between us, as tangible as the taste of whiskey lingering on our tongues. “Good. We need to be as prepared as we can.”
“Hiro texted me about Megumi.”
Leaning back in my chair, I cross my ankle over my knee and let out a long sigh. My fingers tap the crystal in my hand as I think about what Megumi’s death means. It didn’t go as planned, but at least we know she contacted someone. We need to figure out who that person is. We’d been hoping that Megumi would lead us back to Salvatore. Now we will need to figure something else out.
“Gia’s digging up information as we speak,” I say. “I’m hoping we can get the audio from the device we planted on her, but if it didn’t get uploaded to the cloud in time, it may be a lost cause.”
Dario nods thoughtfully. “Something isn’t sitting right with all of this. My contacts in Italy are starting to doubt that Salvatore is even in charge.”
My brows pinch together, and I lean forward, resting my elbows on the desk. “Who else would be in his place?”
Dario shakes his head. “Not in his place,” he tells me. “Pulling his strings.”
“Who else would there be?”
My sottocapo shrugs. “An outside influence, maybe?” he suggests. “Someone Salvatore made a deal with to help keep power after he murdered your father.”
I drag a hand down my tired face and groan. “Who the hell has that much influence?”
“Maybe it is someone from the Geryon ?”
That is a possibility I hadn’t considered. We’ve been assuming that Salvatore is the reason the old society resurfaced, but there could be a puppeteer. It is possible there is another faction of the Geryon that is operating from another part of the world that we have no clue even exists.
That possibility hadn’t crossed my mind. We assumed Salvatore was the reason the old society reemerged, but there might be another force behind the scenes. There could be a different faction of the Geryon operating somewhere in the world, unknown to us.
But it doesn’t sit right with me. The timing and power dynamics seem off. It’s as if there’s a missing piece to the puzzle, making the whole picture unclear.
“I’ll reach out to some more contacts,” Dario offers. “They might be able to shed some light on the situation.”
“You sure have a lot of contacts for being the best friend of a blood traitor.” I smile wryly.
Dario fixes me with a serious look. “I’ve told you many times, Vitali, but you never listen.” He shakes his head, almost as if he is disappointed. “There are more men than you think who have maintained their loyalty to you. It is the reason they stayed behind. They knew you would one day fight to take back what is rightfully yours, and they wanted to be ready.”
His words leave me feeling unsettled. I’ve always been aware of a few loyal individuals, but Dario’s portrayal makes it sound as though the small group I envisioned is actually a formidable force. It’s both reassuring and intimidating, and I’m not sure how to reconcile the two.
Before I can question him, the quick, rhythmic thudding of feet against the wooden floorboards interrupts me. The sound grows louder, and a few moments later, Gia bursts into the office. Her face is pale and her eyes shimmer with tears that cling stubbornly to her lashes, refusing to fall. The utter devastation painted across her face has my heart leaping in my chest. My chair scrapes harshly against the cold marble floor as I leap up, the glass of whiskey shattering against floor while my focus remains locked on Gia.
She’s shaking, her petite form shivers with something akin to fear, and I hate it. I despise the vulnerability etched across her face. It doesn’t belong there. My wife is gripping the open laptop tightly against her chest as she stares at me with wounded eyes.
“ Amore m io.” I raise my hand to lightly cradle her face, my thumb softly grazing her cheek. I can sense there’s something she’s discovered, something she’s hesitant to share with me. My heart is torn between wanting to know and fearing the information she’s uncovered.
“I’m so sorry, Vitali,” she murmurs, her words a soft stutter as she chokes back a sob.
“Did you manage to hear who Megumi was talking to?” I ask gently. Gia shakes her head woefully.
“I’m still working on that,” she admits. “But—” she pauses to take a controlling breath. “I decrypted the local network her safe house was on.”
Dario’s brow creases together at her words. “How did you manage that? The townhome was destroyed, along with the two on either side.”
Her breath hitches slightly before she answers. “Whoever blew up the townhome wasn’t aware that the entire block of buildings belonged to Megumi. They were registered under a shell company, but the safehouse she was in when it exploded was registered under her maiden name.”
“Looks like Kenzo’s mother had some trust issues.”
Gia nods, then bites her lower lip, looking conflicted. “The network router with all the stored information was located in another townhouse. From what I can tell, the only townhouses that were truly occupied were the one Megumi was found in and the one where I located the router six townhomes down. There are no leases on the other homes, but it looks like one the buildings was working on the same network.”
“That’s reckless,” Dario states.
Gia shakes her head, contradicting him. “It’s not, actually,” she explains. “Anyone not aware of her association with the other buildings wouldn’t have known to look for a main network. They would have assumed that any devices with information would have been destroyed in the explosion.”
“How did you know the shell company belonged to her?”
Gia gives me a mischievous smile. “Because Kenzo’s mother isn’t as smart as she thinks she is.” She sets the laptop on the desk, and I direct her to sit in the chair next to Dario. Fiddling with the keys, she brings up the shell company.
Sato Corporation.
Now I understand why Gia could effortlessly identify the company as Megumi’s. The name Sato, emblazoned across documents, belonged to Kenzo’s brother, the one whose life was tragically cut short when Evaline’s mother’s drunk driving killed him and his nanny in a car accident when he was a boy.
Gia’s meticulous pursuit of Megumi after she kidnapped Evaline would naturally have uncovered such intimate details. Salvatore would never have cared enough to remember such a personal detail. He would have found the information irrelevant.
“Once I realized she owned the shell company, I delved into the local networks, sifting through layers of digital dust until I unearthed the one I was searching for,” she explains, her voice carrying the weight of her discovery. “From there, it was almost effortless to hack and extract the information. There’s still an overwhelming amount to sort through; most of it seems to be blackmail material. But there are also names, shipping dates, and black-market deals. Yet there’s something else—” Gia’s voice fades, and she turns her sorrow-filled eyes toward me, her expression a portrait of unease.
“What did you find?” I ask, feeling a tingling anxiety spreading beneath my skin. Whatever it is, it can’t be good, judging by the ghostly pallor that clings to her complexion and the haunted shimmer in her eyes.
“Vitali—” She draws in a sharp breath and lets it out. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
“Spit it out, Gia,” I snap. When she flinches, I close my eyes in regret and take a moment to center myself. “I’m sorry. Please, just tell me.”
Gia nods slightly, but she remains contemplative for a few more beats before she speaks. “Aurelio wasn’t your father, Vitali. He couldn’t have been.”
“That isn’t right,” I insist, shoving my hand through my hair in exasperation.
Gia pulls up a medical document on the laptop screen and turns it so I can read it.
“He was sixteen,” Gia whispers sadly. “It was a skiing accident in Cervinia. The records were supposed to have been scrubbed, but it seems as if Megumi managed to get her hands on them when Kenzo’s father died. It looks like your father had him keep the record, just in case it was needed.”
The truth displayed in the document hits like a bullet, ripping through my chest so damn painful. It is a bitter antidote to the sweet lies that have been my only comfort all these years.
Aurelio Deluca was not my father.
The man who raised me like I was his own, who stood by my side, isn’t my blood.
Then who the hell is?