18. Valerio
VALERIO
Bruno’s address takes me to a basement under a closed boxing gym in Brooklyn.
The place smells of bleach, old sweat, and metal. Bruno waits at the bottom of the stairs with his sleeves rolled up and blood on his cuff. He gives me one look, then steps aside.
“It's not Mateo," he says with a displeased gaze. "but it's the closest thing we have. Caught him in my net a couple of weeks ago. Heard from Riccardo you might want to pick his brain.”
I descend the last step. “Who?”
"Rafael Rubio.”
The younger brother of my sister’s captor.
Interesting. From what I know, Rafael Rubio attacked Brooklyn a few weeks ago.
A commotion had followed. I'd gone to bed, assuming that Bruno had caught and scattered the young man’s remains at the bottom of the Hudson.
The old Bruno, the second-in-command to Don Moretti, would have done that.
Apparently, marriage turned him into a more patient man.
"You kept him alive?" I ask, surprise evident in my voice.
"For intel." He jerks his head toward a bolted door. “Unfortunately, that means I can't yank his tongue out with my bare hands. A shame.” He clench his fists. “You'll understand the urge when you see him."
From the room beyond, a male voice calls, “I heard that, gorgeous.”
Bruno closes his eyes for half a second. “There he fucking goes.”
I walk past Bruno into the room.
Rafael Rubio is tied to a chair in the middle of the mat. One eye is swollen. His lip is split. He still manages to grin at me with enough charm to insult the concept of captivity.
“Valerio Greco,” he says. “I thought you'd be taller.”
I stop in front of him. “I thought you'd be rotting.”
“Common misconception.” His gaze drops to my hands. “You here to kill me or entertain me? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, your friend, Bruno, ain't exactly the sharpest tool in the box. Such dull conversation he makes.” He spits a glob of blood. "Mostly with his fists."
Bruno sighs. "He's yours if you want him. I've got to go home. Promised my wife I'd be back to tuck the kids in."
I give a short nod. "Thank you. I'll take it from here."
Bruno hesitates, as though battling a thought. I realize what it is when he puts a hand on my shoulder. "We'll find her, V. I promise you."
Promises are dangerous in our business. There's no guarantee you'll be able to keep them.
But this is one I've already made to myself.
I failed my parents. I will not fail my sister.
I nod and Bruno walks away.
The door shuts a moment later.
Rafael tilts his head. “Alone at last.”
I hit him.
His head snaps to the side. Blood runs fresh from his mouth. He spits onto the mat, then laughs under his breath. “Dios mio. Do you hefes all have to be so fucking dull?”
I grip the back of his chair and lean close. “Tell me where Mateo is.”
He pretends to think about it. “Mexico, probably. Moving, definitely. Paranoid, always. Oh, and hitting strip clubs on the way.”
I hit him again. My knuckles meet bone. Dull pain sparks through my hand. I don’t even mind. Anything to find my sister.
Rafael coughs once. “Hey, don't fucking shoot the messenger. You're the one asking the wrong questions. Can't fault me for giving you shitty answers.”
“You’ll give me better ones.”
“I’ll give you what I have.” His grin fades by a fraction.
“Mateo cycles through three hubs. Sonora, Baja, Sinaloa. He never sleeps in the same bed twice. He travels with a surgeon, two radio men, and a priest he keeps around because he fancies himself a man of God, go figure. He trusts no phone for longer than a day. He trusts no man for longer than a week.”
I study his face. “And you're telling me all this because?”
“Because he's fucking insane.” For once, his expression holds no trace of mockery. "They say I flay my enemies alive. Flash news: not me, buddy. All him."
"So what? I'm supposed to believe you've got a conscience?"
“It comes and goes.” He shifts against the restraints. “Usually at terrible times.”
I straighten. My jaw aches from clenching. “Valentina Greco. Tell me where he keeps her.”
Rafael’s expression changes. I see the performance drop. The grin stays gone. For the first time since I entered, he looks fully sober.
“Is she still alive?” he asks.
My pulse hits once, hard. “For now.”
He exhales. His shoulders settle, and the movement tells me more than his words have.
He cares. For some misguided, fucked-up reason, he doesn't want my sister dead. That, or he carries guilt. With men from bloodlines like ours, the difference is often inconsequential.
But he's also the brother of the man who took her. Who took my parents and filmed their executions. I don't give a shit if he's soft on the inside. Once I'm done with Mateo, I'll feel the texture of his insides for myself, up close and personal.
“You’d better hurry,” Rafael says. “Give Mateo whatever he wants until you can put a bullet in him yourself. He doesn’t play around with hostages once he runs out of patience.
I did my best to keep your folks breathing, but when Pops sent me over to this side of the country, it took Mateo all of three days to grow itchy. ”
My hand flexes at my side. “You're saying you protected my parents?”
His eyes lift to mine. “Nah. Protecting them would have been cutting them loose. I just delayed him.”
“Why?”
“Because they were old. Because your mother prayed every night. Because your father kept asking mercy for his wife and daughter and never once asked for mercy for himself.” Rafael swallows. “Pick whichever answer lets you keep hating me. I’m not picky.”
Something ugly moves through my chest. I have carried rage for so long that any shape beside it feels foreign. Gratitude has no place here. Not for a Rubio. Not tonight.
Still, my fist lowers.
Rafael notices. Of course he notices.
“It was hard enough to keep Mateo from sending them back piece by piece while I still had access,” he says quietly. “How long did he give your sister?"
I pause before answering. When I walked into this room, the intention had been to beat the shit out of Rafael, and do to him what Mateo promised to do to Valentina. But now, the strategy has changed. "Twelve weeks."
He barks out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, don't count on it.”
I step back because I need the distance. “Names. Routes. Safe houses. Give me all of it.”
“Sure. Send me a goon with pen and paper and I'll sing like a nightingale.” His smile returns, smaller this time and tired around the edges. “See? Cooperative hostage. Five stars.”
"I'm going to kill you, you know." I stare him in the eye as I say it. "When this is over."
His grin turns a fraction dimmer. "Guess I'd better make myself useful while I'm still breathing, then."
I don't get this man. Rafael Rubio should have no reason to help me, or Bruno, or anyone else from the boroughs. He's cartel by blood; we're mafia. His family started this war. Either they'll finish it, or we will. There's no world where he makes it out of this by siding with the enemy.
Then again, I don't need to understand him. I just need to use him to achieve my goals.
I turn toward the door.
“Greco.”
I stop.
Rafael’s voice loses every trace of play. “If there’s anything else you hold precious, bury it. Hide it. Cut it out of your life if you have to. Never let Mateo see it. He’ll sink his teeth into it and leave nothing behind.”
Oh, wow! This is new to me. I never expected I’d, one day, be lectured by a cartel member. But shit happens. Still, I don’t give him the satisfaction of an answer. I just yank the door open and leave.
The drive home passes without sound. I keep my hands open on my knees because closing them would crack something.
Mateo has Valentina. Mateo killed my parents. Mateo can never learn Federica’s name from my mouth, my men, my enemies, or my face.
On the way home, I text Tito:
VALERIO: Go to this address. Interrogate the guy inside. He’s annoying but he’ll cooperate. No matter how tempted you are, do not kill him.
Tito sends his response right away.
TITO: Sounds like a real treat. I’ll bring my meditation music.
I shake my head and pocket my phone.
When the car reaches the building, I look up.
Federica’s light is still on.
For one breath, I sit there and stare at it.
In three days, I’m marrying her publicly.
In three days, she will be mine in the eyes of the world.
And after that, I’ll hide her so deep Mateo Rubio will never be able to find her.