10. Leona
LEONA
Three days passed while we got settled into our new home. We spent the time focusing on reconnaissance and building our supplies and resources—and trying not to kill our new guest while he recovered.
Ciel and I had been trying to track the Camorra as they spread through the city like a plague, and we were finally making progress, so I set out to update Obi.
I found him and Max in the library.
Together.
My eyebrow raised as I watched them lean over a map and talk in low tones. Max pointed at the map and shook his head before Obi responded and pointed somewhere else.
I cleared my throat. Max’s head popped up, eyes wide, like I caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. His bruises were yellowing, and the swelling on his cheek had finally gone down.
“What is it, nke’m?” Obi’s deep voice rumbled across the room.
I shrugged. “I guess I was just coming to make sure that neither of you had killed the other yet.”
“Not yet,” Obi said with a small smirk. His crinkling eyes brought a smile to my face.
“Ciel picked up Greco’s trail,” I said. “He and I were combing through security footage, and we finally found him. We traced him through the city for a couple of hours before he disappeared again.”
“Where was he?” Max asked.
I walked over to the desk and handed them both my phone. “This picture is from a skyscraper in Manhattan. He went inside, rode the elevator, and then he visited a business on the thirtieth floor. After that, he left.”
At least five of Greco’s men flanked him in a tight formation, and all of them had weapons hidden inside their jackets. Frankly, he looked like the mafia boss he was.
Obi zoomed in on the photo, focusing the image on a logo in the background. “He’s visiting a tech company. Nexus Solutions is a leader in artificial intelligence that specializes in facial recognition. The founder, Cole Hawkins, is one of my contacts.”
“Really?” I asked, back straightening. Now, why would Greco go there?
He nodded. “We did a job for him a few years ago. We stole some proprietary software from one of his competitors, which became the foundation for his latest technology.”
I whistled. “If that ever got out, his business could collapse.”
“Exactly,” Obi replied.
Max leaned in to look at the photo. “I know the founder, too. He was featured in an article about entrepreneurs changing the face of New York. We’ve crossed paths in social circles before.”
“Do you think Greco would try to tap him for laundering?”
“Yeah,” Max said. “He’s stupidly rich. There’s so much money in these tech startups, especially in AI. I’m sure not all of his money is legal, either.”
“Well, it is a good thing Cole Hawkins lives in my pocket, then,” Obi said, handing me back the phone. “We’ll get in contact immediately and learn what Greco wants.”
I tucked the phone back into my leggings while I peered down at the map. “What are you two doing in here?”
Obi pointed at two spots on the map. “According to Volpe, those are two known storage locations for Camorra gun smuggling.”
Max braced one hand on the table and leaned over the map. “We were discussing whether we should hit the warehouses. Take the guns for ourselves. If Greco sticks to his regular schedule, a new shipment should be delivered in two days.”
“If we can catch some of Greco’s capos there, it might be worth the hit,” Obi said. “His soldiers are replaceable. The men who have earned his trust, his inner circle, are not.”
“Let’s do it,” I said as I stepped around the desk and ducked under Obi’s open arm. He circled me and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “We’ll be careful, but I don’t want him to think we’re letting him take control without a fight.”
“Agreed,” Obi said. My stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly and heat rose to my cheeks. He glanced at the time on the clock hanging on the wall. “Did you eat yet?”
“I was just about to,” I answered, slipping my hand in his and pulling him toward the door. “Ciel and I were taking a break for lunch. Wynn made food. Cas and Ryu were training in the makeshift gym in the basement, but they were going to stop to eat with us.”
He let me pull him toward the door, but Max hung back.
“Are you coming?” I asked.
Max lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “I’m not hungry.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re a bad liar. Stop it or I’ll stab you.”
Obi and I walked back to the kitchen hand in hand. I didn’t look back to see if Max was following. He either would or he wouldn’t, and hell if I cared.
Things had been tense between everyone the last few days, but Max had hung on the fringes, clearly avoiding us.
He answered whatever questions we asked, but this was the first time I’d seen him having a civilized conversation that actually seemed productive.
Typically, Ryuji was threatening to kill him.
“Hey, cara mia,” Cas said when we found everyone filling their plates with food. “Hungry? I made you a plate.”
I grinned. “That’s my bodyguard. Always taking care of me.”
“Can’t stop, won’t stop,” Cas said with a smile. He handed me the plate and guided me to the table we’d put in the bay window. It had six seats in a circle—so honestly, it worked out that Max had refused to join us.
I sat down while the rest of the guys got their food and sat around the table.
“This looks so good, Wynn. Thank you,” I said, taking the first bite. It was delicious. “Damn, I didn’t realize I was starving.”
“You’re welcome, darling,” he said as he sat next to Ciel. “What updates do we have?”
With his mouth full, Ryuji started talking. “Kostya just texted me that they’ve seen Italians hovering on the edge of their territories, poking their noses where they don’t belong. He said the next time he sees them, the Russians will attack.”
“Can he send me the coordinates where they’ve been seen?” Ciel asked.
“Yeah, I’ll ask him to send you updates and photos,” Ryu replied. “We can start a database of their faces and identities so we know who they are.”
“Good idea, Ryu,” I said, right as my phone started buzzing in my leggings. With a frown, I fished it from the pocket of my leggings. The phone screen lit up with an unknown number.
A chill swept through my bones.
Cas leaned over my shoulder, peering at it with me. “Who is it?”
“I don’t know.”
The phone finally stopped ringing, but almost immediately starting ringing again. The exact same number.
It could be anyone. It could be a fucking spam call. But did spam calls usually call back to back?
And how did they get this number?
And why did I feel a sinking in my gut?
The rest of the guys started talking over one another, disagreeing about whether or not I should answer it. In the corner of my eye, I spotted Max hovering in the arched entryway to the kitchen. I held up a hand and shushed everyone. The phone went dark, and then it rang again.
With a sigh, I looked at Obi. “I’m answering it.”
His lips pressed together while he stood and moved behind me. “Ciel, can you try to trace it?”
My hacker snatched his tablet from the kitchen island and started tapping away. “I’ll try,” he murmured before he glanced at me. “Okay. Answer it.”
I pressed the accept call button and turned on speakerphone. “Hello?”
“Ciao, signorina,” a smooth deep voice said from the other side.
Max’s head snapped up. Obi tensed, eyes locked on the phone. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.
“Piero Greco,” I said. All my men sat forward, staring at the phone. Max took three steps closer. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Fuck. How the hell did he get this number? Could Ciel trace it?
The look on Ciel’s face said it all. Lucia. She could always get through our defenses, but just because he knew the number didn’t mean we were exposed. He kept tapping on his tablet, but the frustrated look on his face said it all. Untraceable.
“It is lovely to speak with you.” Greco’s voice was slightly amused. Like he had all the cards, and I had none. It certainly felt that way.
“I would say likewise, but I’d be lying.”
He chuckled. “I heard you were sharp.”
“Sharp enough to cut. Why are you calling?”
“Fine, we may move past the pleasantries,” he responded smoothly. “I understand you killed the men I sent after Maximiliano.”
My eyes flicked to his. He’d inched closer. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.
“I did,” I answered.
“That was bold of you. And unwise.”
I snorted. “You sent your men to kill me. I think that’s pretty bold.”
“Ah, ah,” he scolded. “I sent my men to kill Maximiliano. It’s not my fault he dragged you into this mess.”
Max’s hands tightened at his sides, but his mask was firmly back in place. No emotions. No feeling.
My lips pressed together. “I would have been dragged into it, regardless.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not. That’s why I called.” He seemed far too relaxed for me to feel happy about what he was about to say. The back of my neck prickled with unease. “Allora, I am calling a meeting and you will be there.”
Obi and I locked eyes again. This couldn’t be good. “What kind of meeting?”
“We need to talk, all of us leaders.”
“Talk about what?”
“How things will be from now on.” The way his voice felt so confident, so assured that we would capitulate to his demands, had anger flaring down my back.
“It doesn’t sound like I’ll enjoy this conversation.”
“I am more than fair, and I don’t go back on my deals.” Some of the humor leeched out of his voice, and I felt the gravitas of the Head of the Camorra take its place. “When Rossi and Sandrini hear my proposal, I think they’ll agree. Come to the meeting.”
My eyes flicked to each of my men, and I could see the no reflected back at me. It would be dangerous. It would put us at risk. Greco would have the upper hand. They were all right.
“Bring Maximiliano,” Greco added.
My spine stiffened. “What makes you think I have him?”
“He refused to give you to me, and then he ran to you, so I doubt you would have turned him away. No, he’s still with you, and I would bet he’s listening to this conversation.”