Chapter 27
RAQUEL
It’s much different being inside the walls of a hospital as a visitor. I never realized what my patients’ families went through until this very moment. Waiting for news on Chiara’s status is the worst kind of torture.
I sit slumped in the brown chair while Dom paces. The grim look on his face speaks to my heart. Dante and Enzo are here too, all of us just hoping she’s okay and clinging to the hope that she’ll make it.
The last thing I heard from Dom was that she needed immediate surgery. We don’t know where the bullet hit or how bad it is. It could have entered her intestines from that angle, or any major organ. It’s so hard to say from where I stood and how fast it all happened.
Minutes tick by until almost an hour passes.
I stand up and march over toward the nurse’s station, needing an update.
Just as I’m about to ask, a tall woman in blue scrubs walks out of the double doors, scanning the large waiting area. “I’m looking for the family of Chiara Bianchi.”
Dominic rushes to her. “Yeah. Here.”
His eyes widen as I quickly follow.
She removes her blue cap and grips it in her palm as her attention darts from Dominic to me.
“Ms. Bianchi is in stable condition. The bullet went right through from one side of her stomach to the other, missing her intestines. She’s very lucky. She’ll make a full recovery in about two weeks and should be able to go home in a couple of days.”
I exhale a sigh of relief as my body breaks out in tingles from the anxiety I was holding on to, while Dominic runs a hand down his face.
“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “How’s our baby?”
With that question, the doctor’s face contorts with a fragment of a scowl. I know that look. I’ve worn it myself when I had to deliver awful news. Like the news I know is coming now.
The baby is gone.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Cavaleri, but—”
“Fuck!” he cries with a roar, stomping to the corner of the room.
His brothers quickly follow him.
“I’m really sorry,” the doctor tells me. “This is my least favorite part of the job.”
“I know.” And I do, more than she realizes.
She nods once, her features solemn. “You’ll be able to see her once she wakes up.”
Then she leaves me.
Chiara looked so happy about the baby, and once she realizes what she’s lost—what our family took from her—she’ll be in far more pain than I can imagine.
DANTE
Dom stayed back at the hospital. Not that we’d expect him to come with us while we went after the children and women. Not while Chiara lies in the hospital. Not after they lost their baby.
My stomach curls with rage. They did that. The Bianchis. Those fucking bastards kill everything. I can’t fucking wait until every one of them is dead. Gone. Where they can no longer destroy innocents ever again.
We’d better find those kids and women at Russo’s building, or I’ll personally go after Anthony for lying.
It’s the weekend, and the timing couldn’t be more perfect.
There’s only a small office building across the street from Joey—the bastard—Russo’s office, but they’re closed today.
So is Russo’s law practice. We killed all the cameras in the area too, not wanting to be caught if anything goes south. We can’t have our names tainted.
My brother and I step out of our SUV, parking it in the empty lot where Anthony told us we could find the cellar doors. I don’t know what’s waiting for us on the other side, but there’s only one way to find out.
Our men shuffle out of the van parked adjacent to our vehicle, following us to where I can already spot the silver cellar doors. I quickly reach them.
“All right, listen, everyone,” I tell them as they circle around me. “Enzo and I will go in first, and you all will follow. Keep the bullets to a minimum. Only if we need to. We don’t want to hurt anyone innocent. Got it?”
“Got it, boss,” some of them say, while others nod in agreement.
With that, I remove my torch, the same one I used on Ricky, and light the padlock on fire. Silently, it melts away until it’s deformed and splits in half, allowing us entry.
Grabbing the doors, I pull them apart, and they creak open. Darkness shrouds the inside, not an indication of life within the walls. I slip the torch into my pocket, removing a mini flashlight and a nine-mil, holding them at my left thigh.
I move down with slow steps, flicking the flashlight on and illuminating our path. One more step, and I’m the first to reach the bottom, not finding anything besides crates of files.
Blue. Green. Yellow. There are bins of every color, but nothing else.
My nostrils flare, teeth clenching. Every inhale and exhale is harsher than the last.
I flip the light over every corner, but I can look as much as I want. There’s no one here at all. No one here but us.
“That motherfucker lied! There are no kids here!” I explode with my heart hammering in my ears and practically ripping out of me. “We should’ve killed him! Why the fuck was I so stupid?!”
My brother wanders further inside, knocking down the files with a roar.
With one more look I’m ready to go, and as I do, my arm hits a crate, and the gun falls to the floor with a loud clank.
“Shit,” I mutter, lowering down to retrieve it.
And when I do, I hear a distant clattering sound, like someone banging a pipe or some kind of metal.
“Anyone hear that?”
“Wha—”
Holding out a hand, I stop Enzo. “Shh. There it is again.”
“Hello?” I yell out. “Anyone here?”
The clattering is louder now, as though multiple pipes are being pounded on from a distance.
Enzo and I stare at one another as I point a finger to the floor.
“It’s coming from down there,” I whisper.
“Shit. You think that’s where they’re hiding them?”
“Only one way to find out.”
Enzo grabs a flashlight from his pocket, and the six men with us do the same, all of us looking for some kind of door. We scatter every inch of the place but find nothing.
“Fuck!” I shout, kicking over a crate as my hand squeezes the back of my neck.
“Boss,” one of our men calls out.
“What?” I raise my eyes to him as my chest erupts with unruly breaths.
“Look.” He points down at my feet, and I follow his movement until—
My eyes flash to a square trap door, camouflaged with the tiles, with a small brown handle protruding.
I crouch down, whistling for Enzo and the other men.
Wasting no time, I lift up the door, not giving a shit if there are five, ten, or a hundred of their men down there.
I’ll take on every one of them singlehandedly.
I’ll rip apart their bodies, piece by piece, and scatter them across this goddamn place before I let them stop us from saving every single person they’ve locked away.
This will be over tonight.
I let my flashlight lead the way as I cross down, my footsteps pounding over the metal. The stench of piss attacks my senses, and I gag, fighting through it.
“What the fuck is that smell?” Enzo mutters behind me.
“What the hell do you think it is? Shut up a minute.”
“Hello?” I call out. “Anyone down here?”
I see nothing at first—just a concrete wall in front of me—and my hope is almost zapped away. But as soon as I make a right turn, I see them.
A shudder crawls up my back.
Cages. So many fucking cages.
Women. Children.
Their faces are painted with dirt and blood and their bodies are barely clothed as they crouch down in what look like large dog crates, some with two people at a time. There are over twenty crates here, at least.
“Please,” comes a woman’s supplicant voice from directly in front of me.
Her blonde hair is caked up around her gaunt face. Her cheekbones are protruding, and her arms are thin enough to crack.
“They need to eat,” she begs, her brows cowering as she huddles over her knees. “We’re hungry, sir. Just feed the kids. Give them something. Don’t just leave them here. They’ll die.”
“We’ll need more men and more vans.” My voice climbs to make sure all of my guys hear.
Roger radios for backup.
When my flashlight whips in the direction of the ceiling, I find a single lightbulb there. I yank the string, providing enough light so that we can all turn off our flashlights.
“Hey…” I approach the woman’s cage with my hands raised.
She shudders, her entire body waking with violent tremors.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” I keep my tone even and soft. “I’m not one of them. I’m not one of the people who put you here. We’re here to save you. To get you all out of here.”
Whispers erupt from the other crates.
“Why should we believe you?” she asks, swiping a piece of hair that’s stuck to her forehead away. “The only people who come down here are the ones who hurt us. How do we know you’re different?”
“I don’t know how I can prove it to you, but I hope that as you look into my eyes, you can see I’m telling the truth.” I take another few steps closer. “We’ve been looking for you all. We just wanna help you guys.”
She sits up a little higher, looking slightly less terrified. These poor people, living worse than animals.
“The men who are involved in this killed my parents and my baby brother a long time ago, when he was only eight,” I explain. “So, believe me, I want to kill them all. Painfully.”
Her hazel eyes fall to the floor for a moment before she looks back up.
“I’m sorry,” she sighs. “They killed mine too. My parents owed the Palermos a debt they couldn’t pay, so they took me when I was sixteen, along with my twelve-year-old sister.”
Her voice drops as she peers down onto her knees.
“Is she here too?”
She shakes her head. “She’s dead now. Murdered during one of their…um, parties.”
Fuck.
I can see from her expression that she doesn’t want to say more without knowing how much I know.
“The club?” I ask.
She nods again, her eyelids falling half-closed and her face bending in grief.
“Do you know where it is?”
“No. None of us do. When they need us, they clean us up, blindfold us, and take us there. I wouldn’t even know how to get there. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. We’ll find it.” I move closer. “So, how about we get you all out of here and somewhere clean?”
“As long as there’s a shower.” She cracks a small smile.
That’s our cue to break open every cell and release the children, mostly young kids under ten, and women no older than twenty.
My pulse thunders louder at seeing those tiny, tattered faces looking so terrified. Alone. I’ve seen a lot and I’ve done a lot, but finding them, knowing my brother was the same fucking age…it kills me.
“What’s your name?” the woman asks as I help her climb out of the cage.
“I’m Dante. My brother Enzo is the one on my left.” I gesture with a tip of my head.
“I’m Serena.”
“Nice to meet you, Serena. I’m glad we found you.”
Tears shine brightly in her eyes, sloping down her cheeks. “I am too.”
“Don’t worry about anything. We’ll make sure you all have a safe place to stay for as long as you need.”
“Thank you,” she trembles out.
“I’m sorry for what happened to you.”
Her lashes flutter, her lips set to a scowl. “Yeah.”
It’s a good thing we own hotels. Finding them a place to stay while we figure out what to do with them won’t be an issue.
“You think you can help me find someone?” She wipes under her eyes.
“Of course. We’ll do our best. Who you looking for?”
“While I’ve been down here, there were these two women, a few years older than me, but I haven’t seen them for a long time. I just wanted to know if they made it out somehow or if they were—”
The words cut roughly, and she’s unable to finish them, but I know what she wants to say. If they were killed.
“What are their names?”
“Uh…” Her gaze darts away, like she still isn’t sure she can trust me.
“I promise, I wouldn’t hurt your friends.”
She licks her cracked lips.
“Elsie and Kayla,” she finally answers.
My brows shoot up.
Oh, damn. Joelle’s friends.
“I’ll help you,” I reassure her. “We’ll find them.”
“Thanks.”
“We need help over here!” one of our guys shouts.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell her as I jog all the way to the end to see what’s going on, with Enzo following me.
I find two of my men huddled on the floor with a woman who appears just as disheveled and scared as Serena kneeling beside them. All of them have their attention on someone on the floor, who I don’t yet see.
As I near, my man, Trevor, turns and shakes his head, and I finally notice the little boy with blond hair coated to his forehead.
“Boss, he’s in bad shape. Hardly breathing. We’ve gotta get him in the van right the fuck now.”
“All right. Take him!”
Trevor lifts up the emaciated child, who looks barely seven.
“Do we know his name?” I ask.
“Yeah,” the woman says, getting to her feet. “His name is Robby. He’s been sick, and they haven’t com—”
“What did you say?” Enzo walks up to her as Trevor starts for the stairs. “Did you say Robby?”
“Yeah.” She nods. “Why? Do you know him?”
It’s then that Enzo stares hard at me.
“Go,” I tell him.
He’s already on his way, taking the boy from Trevor. But suddenly, he stops short.
“Fuck!”
The way he shouts, I know something bad is coming.
“There’s no pulse, Dante. He’s not breathing!”
THE END
Will Enzo save Robby? Will Joelle ever get her son back? Find out in The Devil’s Secret! Keep reading for a sneak peek!