Antonio
“Where is he?”
I scramble out of the car and cast my gaze around, surveying the damage. Shit. I knew it was going to be bad, but I didn’t think things would take a turn this quickly.
I run a hand through my hair as I take it all in, the smoking remains of one of our main warehouses.
An underground bunker beneath an old office building that we used as a front for years—a place that has gone untouched for as long as I can remember.
Nobody would have been able to get close enough to do any damage to the warehouse, not without prior knowledge, but I have to assume that the threats my son made about handing off information to that Salamanca fucker have come good.
“He’s waiting inside,” the driver, Martino, tells me, as I lean against the car and try to figure out what the hell I should do next.
It’s more than I can wrap my head around, seeing a place I’ve poured so much time and effort into completely destroyed in front of me.
The office building has caved in, the doors blown open like torn paper, and the bunker itself is a smoking wreck that will be useless for anything other than scrap metal.
I force myself forward, resting a hand on my gun, though I doubt anyone is still in there.
My men already cleared the place after the initial attack happened, searching for any survivors after Salamanca and his men closed in on the building.
We have guards stationed at every warehouse round the clock, but they were soon overwhelmed, wiped out faster than we could send out reinforcements.
There is one survivor. Just one. Cesc, one of my longest-serving guards.
He’s been with me since day one, practically helping me build this business before he stepped aside to watch over the guards of my warehouses, organizing their shifts and vetting each and every one before they begin working for me.
I would trust him with my life, and I wish he could say the same about me, but after something like this, I’m not sure I have the right to claim such a thing.
I pick my way through the building, heading to the office where I know Cesc will be waiting for me.
We sent a few medics ahead to see if there were any men who could be saved, and it seems like Cesc is the only one who made it.
I know what I want to ask him, though I’m not sure if I’m ready to hear the answer.
I want to know if Andreo was involved.
Because I’m sure I already know the truth.
If the threats he leveled against me over the phone are to be taken seriously, and I have no reason to think otherwise, then he’s spilling all those secrets to Salamanca, making sure he knows every little detail about my business and how we run it.
This weapons’ cache, which served almost every criminal in the city, was among my very first, and I can’t see it as a coincidence that it’s the initial strike Salamanca makes against my business.
As though he’s underlining the fact that he can do whatever he pleases now that he has my son on his side, and doesn’t care who knows it.
I weave my way through the hallways, which are now pockmarked with bullets and smoke—shafts of light cut through where the ceiling has been broken, and it seems to groan with every step I take.
I should probably be more careful, but right now I don’t want to be.
Rage and betrayal scream in my mind, so intense it feels like they might take over everything else inside of me, and the best I can do is keep counting my footsteps, focusing on the sound echoing through the shattered space around me as I approach Cesc.
When I reach him, I can tell at a glance that he’s lucky to be alive.
One of the medics is tending to his arm, and he winces as they tighten a bandage around what looks like a bullet wound.
His shirt is stained with blood, though most of it is now dry—his, or someone else’s?
I don’t know, but I’m determined to get to the bottom of it one way or another.
“You finished here?” I bark at the medic, voice sharper than I intend.
He jumps upright, nodding. “Yes, I—”
“Then leave us,” I tell him, gesturing toward the door. He does as he’s told, taking off before he can land on the wrong end of my ire.
I turn to Cesc, who straightens up slightly, wincing as he tugs his shirt down over his wound.
He buttons up his shirt, still looking away from me, and I can tell that he’s concerned about how I’m going to respond.
As if I might tear chunks out of him for failing me, when all I give a damn about is whether my old friend is safe.
“How are you?” I ask gruffly. Seems a stupid question, given the state he’s in now, but he shakes his head.
“I’ll be fine,” he replies. “Had worse.”
I’m not sure if I believe him, but I’m not in a place where I want to argue.
I pull up a chair, sitting down and leaning my arms on the sides as I eye him.
How do I come out with it? I have no idea how much is known about my son’s involvement with Salamanca, and I had hoped that I would be able to keep it under wraps, at least until he saw sense and came back to the fold. But now, I’m not sure I can.
“I need to ask you something,” I tell him, fixing him with a hard look that I’m sure he knows the context of. He grimaces slightly, shifting so he can face me properly, and nods at me to go on.
I flick my tongue over my lip, trying to find the words to say it out loud. Because as soon as I do, I know there’s no taking it back, no undoing the enormity of what I have just admitted to. I close my eyes, cutting myself off from Cesc’s sharp gaze, and speak.
“Was Andreo with them?”
He knows Andreo, of course he does. Cesc has been part of my life for long enough that he was there the day my son was born, knows him as well as anyone can. And, with a long sigh—he nods.
“Yeah,” he replies. “Yeah, he was.”
I mutter a curse under my breath. This is bad. Really fucking bad. Not just because it affirms everything Andreo said to me about his intentions with Salamanca, but because it lays it all out on the line for everyone else to uncover too.
I didn’t want anyone else to hear about this, not if I could help it.
I can only imagine how it will be interpreted, how people will see me now that they know I’ve entirely lost the grip on my son and that he has joined forces with my enemies.
It’s like he has torn a hole through my business, and now there’s nothing I can do to plug it up.
“Did he do this to you?”
Cesc shakes his head. “I only caught a glimpse of him,” he replies. “Looked to me like he had a gun, and he was involved in the attack, but he didn’t try to get in my face…”
“Probably wouldn’t know how to handle you,” I mutter, and he laughs—then winces, reaching for the wound on his side and pressing his hand into it to stem the discomfort.
“Shit,” he says, closing his eyes as he tries to bring himself back to the conversation. “I think I need to rest, don…”
“Of course,” I say, rising to my feet at once. “Take all the time you need. I’ll call a car to bring you back to the mansion.”
“Hold on,” he tells me as I reach the door. I look back toward him, wondering what else he could possibly have to hit me with after the mess that has already gone down.
“Yeah?”
“Is it true?” he asks, leaning forward, eyes narrowed. “About you and the girl?”
I sigh and push a hand through my hair. I don’t want to have this conversation with him, or with anyone for that matter, but I know this all must be a confusing mess to him. If anyone deserves to hear the truth, it’s him, and I’m not going to keep it from him any longer.
“That we’re married? Yes.”
He shakes his head slightly, trying to fit the pieces together. “And is that why Andreo…?” He cocks an eyebrow.
I shake my head. “No,” I reply. “Other way around. I married her because Andreo walked out. Couldn’t leave her to deal with all of this alone.”
“Right.” I can tell from his tone that he’s not entirely convinced.
Shit, I don’t blame him. All of this must look like a mess from the outside—it feels like one from the inside too, and I almost want to tell him that. But I have to cling to whatever control I can, and that means not confessing that there’s anything here that I can’t keep a handle on.
And besides—I’ve learned the hard way that nobody’s loyalty is guaranteed.
If my own son can turn his back on me like this, then there’s no way to ensure that I’m owed anyone else’s.
If Cesc sees weakness in me, sees doubt, I have no way to guarantee that he will not turn on me the way Andreo did.
And he has connections to pretty much every one of my guards too—the last thing I need is for them to turn their backs on me, when I need them now more than ever.
“I’m going to check out the rest of the warehouse,” I tell him, turning for the door once more. “There should be a car waiting outside for you soon. You need help getting down there?”
He shakes his head again. “I can handle it.”
And with that, I stride out of the room, trying to muster as much confidence as I’m able.
Now, more than I ever have before, I need to convince everyone paying attention that I am utterly in control of what is going on here.
I’ve never faced a threat this serious against my business before, and I never could have imagined that it would come from my own damn son.
But Andreo has made his choice, and it’s up to me to make certain that I don’t let it echo out to destroy the rest of what I’ve worked for.
The smell of smoke lingers in the air, the metallic scent of gunfire still clinging to every surface.
Salamanca might think he has gotten the best of me by getting my son on his side, convincing Andrea that he can give him everything I can’t.
But if Salamanca thinks I’m just going to roll over and take it, he has a whole hell of a lot more coming his way.
And I’m not going to make this easy for him.
Not a chance in hell.