Chapter 7
Jaxon
You could never trust anyone, including Cosa Nostra scum.
Although the Russos weren’t the Cosa Nostra in the traditional sense. They were the offspring of one of the Five Families in Sicily, people who controlled Europe much like the New York Five Families had during the days of the Gambino and Bonanno families.
With Carmine as the trophy Don, my guess was their clout was low on the totem pole. The question driving me insane was whether Carmine knew about the drugs or had even condoned them.
With new generations, alliances were no longer used with frequency. I rubbed my jaw, trying my best to put everything into perspective.
From what I remembered, Sergio was a mere babe in the woods.
I hadn’t realized he’d even hit eighteen yet.
Although time did fly when you were bored to death.
Was it possible Sergio had acted on his own, a kid hoping to prove his worth?
I knew the stupid choices I’d made at his age.
All my brothers had done so, the less than endearing streaks of petulance obviously inherited.
“You did good,” I told him and pulled my hand free.
The delivery driver was completely relieved.
“I’ll never bother you again,” he said, as if the offer meant anything to me.
I stood, taking my time to do so. “No, you won’t.”
He blinked as if trying to figure out what the hell I was saying. Like a deer in the headlights. “You’re in the wrong place, buddy. This is the Prince territory and no one from the Russo organization is welcome under any circumstances.”
“I’ll never come back. I swear to God.”
The poor guy was obviously new to the business. That didn’t mean I’d go lenient on him. Quite the contrary. When something as egregious as this happened, we needed to hit it hard and fast so those who’d dared cross us knew what would happen.
“You’re right. You won’t.” I didn’t waste any additional time, raking the edge of the blade across his neck. I preferred using knives. They were much more personal in the moment, allowing all the feels that a gun didn’t provide.
The only thing I didn’t like was the mess. If I calculated the slicing and dicing wrong, I wore the gushing blood. It was obvious my skills were a little rusty but not too bad. Only a string on my hand and the cuff of my white shirt.
My fault. I should have selected another color to wear to the interrogation.
“What about the others?” Donatello asked.
A message and lesson were needed, no matter why Sergio had made such an egregious mistake.
What I’d been taught by my father was that no matter the situation, you never appeared weak.
Letting this go without some sense of retribution would send a message to every other crime syndicate that we were ripe for the picking. Alexander would agree with me on this.
“Leave one or two to head back to the Russos alive and well with stories to tell. Make sure they know the drugs now belong to us.” I started to head toward the sink to wash off, turning after a few steps.
“And send a message that if they dare try this shit again, they’ll lose more than just a few men. ”
Either Sergio would be disciplined, or the Italians would strike again, ignoring the verbal alliance. Given my reaction, Carmine would believe they had a score to settle.
“You got it, boss.”
“We need to find the person at the club.” And fast.
“I’ll put out some feelers. Once the person hears about what happened, they’ll be a nervous wreck.” When he cracked his knuckles, wearing a sly grin, I shook my head.
I rolled my eyes from hearing him call me boss. “And you said I was the nutcase.”
“You’re more than a little crazy but that’s what makes you so damn good to work with.” He walked beside me as I headed to the small kitchenette. “I’m curious. What are you going to tell the family?”
Alexander as Don wouldn’t be enthused about my early morning decision, but there’d been no choice. If the Italians wanted a piece of the action, they’d need to come through me first. But God help them. With four Prince brothers on the loose, you could never know what to expect.
Except for a flow of dead bodies.
“That we could have a war on our hands. What the hell. It’s been a few months.”
Donatello glanced over my shoulder. “I’ll hit the streets and see what I can discover about Sergio.”
“Yeah, do that. Alexander will want every scrap of information we can discover.” I continued to stroke Zorro while studying the men on the ground.
At least a couple of them were very nervous, constantly glancing at my soldiers.
“Take your time learning information from our guests and strip the delivery truck.”
“Will do.”
Zorro suddenly growled and the hair stood up on the back of my neck.
When he took off running toward the street, both Donatello and I ripped out our weapons.
By instinct, we turned and raced toward the street, crouching low.
Another asset I’d quickly discovered in Zorro’s bag of tricks was his ability to sniff out danger.
Days like today were when mistakes were made, lives lost during senseless attacks. Zorro could run like a bat out of hell, his long fur flying in the light breeze masking whatever had drawn his attention.
I rushed directly behind him, scanning the streets in search of any vehicles.
The area held mostly warehouses, several of which were deserted and had been for years.
With light traffic and no sign of any approaching vehicles, whoever had made the mistake of attempting criminal activity would regret it.
Zorro jumped onto someone, pitching them backward. This time his single woof couldn’t hide the squeal of surprise from whoever he’d been determined to visit.
The voice was decidedly female.
Donatello skidded to a stop, immediately lowering his weapon given he had a much better view of the visitor.
I was more cautious, refusing to believe anyone was out walking this time of morning and in this neighborhood.
“Oh, you sweet baby. You’re such a sweet boy. Who are you? Are you lost?”
Her voice stopped me in my tracks, the kindness and joyful lilt catching me off guard. While I lowered my weapon, I refused to put it away. Not until I knew for certain what we were dealing with.
The woman’s delight quickly shifted into anxious concern when she finally noticed my approach. That’s the moment Zorro decided to drag his huge tongue across her face, catching her mouth. She laughed nervously, but her eyes had already locked onto mine.
And her gaze had fallen at least once to the gun in my hand.
I took a deep breath, studying her intently.
Wearing a ball cap, only a wisp of hair by her ear gave away the dark color.
My initial thought was that this was my lost angel.
Yet this girl had a slight accent, the inflection entirely different.
And there was absolutely no recognition in her eyes.
She was also wearing a bulky sweatshirt and jeans, tennis shoes completing her very casual outfit.
Hiding her figure.
Sunglasses hid a portion of her face.
“Is… Is this your dog?” she asked, her chest rising and falling while her lower lip trembled. She reached out and instantly Zorro was thrilled by her presence. She cooed as he whined, the two of them getting along famously.
Donatello continued his approach from the side, which caught her attention. She took a step backward while looking between us. My baby boy now had his huge paws on her shoulders, walking with her as she took yet another step further away, almost tripping off the sidewalk.
“Zorro. Off.” My command was obeyed instantly, the pup dropping onto all fours. Without being asked, he eased down on his haunches, staring up at the incredibly beautiful girl.
The term natural beauty came to mind. With her faded jeans with holes in the knees, her appearance indicated she couldn’t be more than twenty-one. Yet there was a hardness in her expression as if either an old soul or someone who’d been hurt multiple times.
With Zorro offering her breathing room, she took in her surroundings.
Including being able to see the five men on their knees with their hands behind their heads.
Fucking fantastic.
At least one of my men had his weapon out. Whether or not she could see in detail what he was holding was something I should ask. There couldn’t be a worse scenario than for someone to have an opportunity to study my methods of handling difficult issues.
She was tense, studying me carefully. I had a desire to rip off her sunglasses, but what good would that do? My angel had been wearing a mask the entire time. Hell, I think I’d even fallen asleep and she’d still been wearing it. More dangerous games.
If this were the old days, what she’d seen would be considered enough for a permanent change in her life. However, killing innocent people wasn’t in my repertoire of tricks.
Exhaling, I nodded to Donatello, an indication to disperse the group. I’d been careless. His eyes opened wide, curious as to how I’d handle the situation.
“I’m sorry,” she offered, nervously tucking the stray strand of hair behind her ear. “The bus brought me here, but I don’t think I’m in the right place.”
She was very anxious, which I couldn’t blame her for being. I slipped my weapon into my jacket and when I walked closer, the highly intelligent girl took a step backwards.
Goddamn it. Her lips. I kept concentrating on them. Were they slightly swollen from the kisses of the night before?
As with learning about Sergio, this was just another situation I didn’t need or want.
I stopped, still scanning the perimeter. While my instinct told me otherwise, it was entirely possible she’d been sent in to distract me. Much like the night before. Maybe the delivery assholes had used the time to scour the area.
Slung over her arm was a ratty looking duffle bag, the type several of my men used when carrying their weapons. Hell, I had two in my closet. Perfect size for ballet gear.