67. Leona
LEONA
Ipulled the hood down low over my face. I was dressed in black and freshly supplied with new knives, which I’d strapped to my thighs, and two new handguns at my hips. Giulio, Felix, and a small contingent of our men had snuck into Sandrini’s territory with me.
Sandrini lived in a penthouse high-rise—at least right now. He had an estate outside the city, but since Greco showed up, he’d been staying downtown. It only took me a few minutes to hack the building’s security feed and confirm he had arrived home about an hour before.
Giulio and Felix watched my back while we infiltrated the building.
Sandrini owned the top floor, so I punched in his security code in the elevator and we rode it all the way up.
When we reached the top, I pulled a small lock-picking kit from my back pocket.
Ryuji and Wynn had been teaching me to pick locks when we had spare time.
I could picture them both grinning from ear to ear while I jimmied the lock easily.
I couldn’t wait to tell them how easy it was. The door popped open with a soft click.
I stuffed the kit back into my pocket, pulled out a knife and a gun, and entered the house.
“Stay here,” I whispered to Felix and Giulio while they watched the elevator. “I’ll shout if I need you.”
“Are you sure, boss?” Giulio asked. “I can watch your back.”
“I’m good,” I said, though I appreciated his loyalty. “I won’t be long.”
We had a few appointments to make tonight. The dominoes we toppled here kicked off everything. By morning, we’d either have won or lost. I let out a deep breath as I took my first steps inside.
Sandrini’s penthouse was luxurious, but it lacked any kind of personality.
It wasn’t the sleek yet comfortable design of our old home, nor was it the old, audacious luxury of Tommaso or Lucchese estates.
There was no designer touch, like Obi’s considered and thoughtful purchases.
Instead, this interior could have been lifted from any lifeless design magazine.
It was as bland as Sandrini himself. Sterile, cold, and yet still somehow weak.
Honestly, maybe it fit Sandrini fairly well.
The door to the bedroom creaked when I pushed it open. I paused, waiting for any indication that he had awoken, but Sandrini’s snores were as pronounced as ever. His wife slept next to him, unaware that her husband was about to die.
I stared at his sleeping body. How had men like him, Tommaso, or Lucchese become so fucking…lazy? Old, fat, entitled. Was this the best the Five Families could come up with?
I sighed as I grabbed a knife from one of my sheaths.
I was on a timeline, so I simply stabbed him right in the chest. His eyes flew open with a shout.
He gasped for breath and flailed around in the bed.
The wife, probably in her mid-to-late forties, screeched when she saw the handle sticking out of his torso.
I nudged her and held a finger to my lips. “Shh.”
She immediately quieted.
I pulled my hood down while Sandrini clutched at his chest. “Hey, Giuseppe.”
His eyes locked on mine. He couldn’t quite catch his breath. Probably because of the giant hole in his lung. “You.”
“Me!” I chirped. “Just wanted you to know that I’m the one who killed you. When you get to hell, please say hi to Greco for me. We’ll send him down to meet you shortly.”
I yanked the knife out of his chest, and his lung quickly collapsed. Blood spurted from his lips. He writhed in the sheets for a few moments before he unfortunately rolled out of bed and landed with a thunk on the ground. I turned to his wife.
“Hey,” I said with a sigh. “Sorry you had to see that.”
She stared at me, completely frozen. Her eyes were full of terror while we listened to Sandrini’s last few curdling, wet breaths. “Are you going to kill me, too?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Well, that depends. Are you going to come after me and my men? You know who I am, don’t you?”
She nodded, swallowing. “You’re Leona Vero. We’ve met a few times before.”
“That’s right.” She’d been Sandrini’s arm candy at a few events that my father had thrown before. “So? Any plans for revenge?”
“No.” She leaned on her hands and knees to peek over the far edge of the bed. “Is he really dead?”
I nudged his corpse with my foot and found it unmoving. “Yep. I would apologize, but I’m not sorry.”
She sat back on her knees. After a few breaths, she looked up. “Me neither.”
The wife didn’t seem too broken up about this. “Wasn’t a great husband?”
“No,” she said, sniffling slightly. “Our marriage was arranged. I only cared for his money.”
“You’re free now,” I said while I wiped my knife on the bedspread. If I remembered correctly, they had kids in their teen years, but they weren’t in the penthouse. The rest of the rooms had been empty. “Unless you or your sons will come after me.”
She shook her head vehemently while she threw off the covers and stood. “No. We’ll leave the city. Immediately.”
“I’m fine with that.” I cast a glance around the room.
It might have been bland, but he was still rich as fuck.
“You can take whatever money or possessions you find here, but leave the city and don’t come back.
If you or any of your sons set foot in New York, I will take it as a declaration of war, and I will finish what I started tonight. Understood?”
“Understood.” She held out her hand. I clasped it.
I left her packing bags and getting ready to flee. Our work here was done.
Now, onto the next.
Obi and Ciel had bugged the police commissioner’s devices with tracking software, so it wasn’t hard to locate him working late in his office.
Despite the lateness of the hour, this building had more activity than Sandrini’s, but Felix, Giulio, and I snuck inside easily.
It still amazed me how confidence was usually the answer to getting into secure places.
We strode right through the hallways, like we belonged there, and no one batted an eye.
My phone still showed the commissioner in his office. When we arrived just outside his door, I gave a nod to Giulio and Felix. They both pulled their weapons as I pushed inside.
Only to find Commissioner Michael Drake asleep at his desk. The room reeked of booze and sweat. Stale, gross air.
“So much for working late,” I murmured.
“Ah, the pressures of public office,” Giulio joked with a grin. “Must be so hard.”
“I bet it’s a fucking nightmare,” I said as we walked closer to the desk where he lay snoring. A five o’clock shadow covered his cheeks and jaw. The bags under his eyes were sunken and dark. “He’s not waking up, is he?”
“Doesn’t look like it,” Felix responded. “Want me to?”
“Nah.” I smacked my open palm on his desk, right next to his ear. Drake’s head shot up, his eyes bleary. It took them a moment to search the room and land on me—and Giulio and Felix behind me. When he recognized me, he sucked in a terrified breath.
“Hi!” I said brightly.
He frantically reached for the desk drawer where he had likely hidden a weapon. Felix slammed a foot against the drawer, and the commissioner recoiled.
“What do you want?” he squeaked.
“Well.” I leaned one hip on the desk. “You fucked up.”
He blinked while his mouth hung open, but he had no excuse.
“Personally, I think Obi was more than fair with you,” I said with a sigh. My arms crossed over my chest. “He gave you multiple chances to come through on the favor you owed him, but you chose poorly.”
His fingers curled under his desk. With a flick of my wrist, I had my knife in my palm and underneath his throat.
“Do not press that panic button.”
Slowly, his hands raised. Fear blotched his face red. It was almost too easy to read what he was thinking.
“You’re considering your options right now,” I said quietly. “Fight or flight—that’s my guess. You chose fawn with Greco, but you won’t go that route with me. Freezing is a possibility, but you’ve tried twice now to react. So I’m going to go with fight.”
His jaw clenched just a moment before he launched himself at me, hands reaching to throttle my neck. Thank God Wynn had taught me exactly how to grapple. Felix and Giulio didn’t even have time to react before I had the commissioner in an armbar at the foot of his desk.
“I’ll snap your arm,” I hissed in his ear.
Drake froze, only to look up and see two guns pointing directly at his face.
I broke his arm anyway. The snap of the bone sent a chill rolling through my arms. Yuck.
He rolled around on the ground. Felix shoved a wad of something into the commissioner’s mouth so his screams were muffled.
I grabbed Giulio’s hand, and he pulled me to my feet.
I snatched the knife from where I’d dropped it onto the surface of the desk.
Felix put his boot on Drake’s chest.
“Look,” I said as I brushed some dust off my jacket.
“You’re not getting out of here alive, and you might as well accept it.
I just wanted to let you know I could have killed you in your sleep, but I wanted you to be very awake and very aware of this.
You fucked with the Shadows, and you should have known better. ”
He fucked us over, and he would die in pain for it. But not before he knew that every person he cared about would know exactly the man he was.
“We’ve released the blackmail Obi had on you to the public,” I added.
“We’ve sent copies to every single member of your family.
We’ve sent them to all major news stations and publications.
The story is currently going viral on the internet.
You’re a disgrace to your office and to the City of New York—and now everyone knows it.
So, chew on that for the few moments left you have to live. ”
A tear slipped down his cheek. He murmured something against the gag, but I didn’t give him the dignity of last words.
Instead, I let Giulio and Felix yank him back to his chair and wrap his hand around the gun from his desk drawer.
They held it to his temple and pulled the trigger so it would look like he had taken his own life.
When we walked out of his office, his blood had pooled beneath him and stained the floor red.
“You got done what you wanted to get done?” Rossi asked when I showed up at his restaurant. Only a few of his men were there, waiting with him.
I rubbed my hands together while I grinned. “Oh, yeah. Very successful.”
He smirked. “You remind me of that guy of yours—what’s his name? Ryuji?”
A laugh bubbled up my throat. “He would be so pleased to hear that. Anyway, they’re both dead.
We drove through Sandrini’s territory, and it looks like word is already spreading.
His men are running around like chickens with their heads cut off.
The commissioner probably won’t be found until the morning, but the police force will get their orders from the mayor. Everything should be ready to proceed.”
Rossi dragged his hands down his face. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
“Yes.” I’d left Giulio and Felix back at the border of Rossi’s territory. We were in it now. My Shadows needed me to do this. If I could come through on my side, Obi would finish it all.
I just had to survive the next few hours.
Rossi tilted his head to the side while he appraised me.
“However this goes tonight, I want you to know that I think you’re being stupid.
” I snorted, but he held up his hands while he grinned.
“I also think you’re really fucking brave.
I’d be happy to live in New York under the Shadows, and I do not say that lightly. ”
I gave him a small smile before I extended my hand. He took it for a firm shake. “Thanks, Enzo. I appreciate that. If all this goes to shit, please keep Chiara safe. And do your best for my men, if you can.”
“I will.”
I let go and bounced on my feet while I stretched my neck from side to side.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins, but all I could think about was getting through tonight and seeing my men again.
Even if it didn’t last very long, I prayed I’d at least have a few minutes with them before Badawi held up her end of our deal.
Rossi glanced at his watch. “Ready?”
I gusted a calming breath, but it did nothing to slow my racing heart. “Call him.”