Chapter 56
Chapter Fifty-Six
The Takedown
Raf
“Raf, you’re with me. Seb you’re with Avery.
You two with Avery, and you with me,” Marco instructs the other Vault Enterprise men.
“Do not act as a lone wolf,” he says to the group while looking squarely at me.
“We’re a team. Stay together and follow my lead.
We want to find her quickly and with minimal bloodshed.
If you need to use your weapon in self-defense, make sure you have a clear fucking shot.
Shoot to maim them, and if that doesn’t work…
shoot to kill. That’s the only way we overpower them. ”
Fucking hell. If this gets out, I’m as good as disbarred—in fact, worse: jailbait.
None of that matters; I just want Chiara back in my arms. My beast has been clamoring to come out since Alessandro sent me that video.
She looked vulnerable and nervous, and even if for a brief moment I doubted the loyalty to me, her eyes never lie. She was trying to reassure me.
We all crouch low to the floor so as not to fall over as the crane whirrs to life and jerks as it winches up the shipping container.
My heart is thumping in my chest, competing with every other sound assaulting me, including the hollow clanging of the mechanical beast carrying us across the water to our final resting place.
The scrape and screech as we’re lowered down and my own ragged breathing sound as if they’re blaring on stereo, yet I feel oddly calm.
Like I’m floating in the ocean and my ears are under water and the world around me is distorted.
Clunk, thud. Our container hits the deck.
Showtime. Everything else falls away. I close my eyes and touch my chest where the green-eyed wolf marks me.
I say a silent prayer. A plea. Let us all survive this.
Give me back the reason worth being in love. My heartbeat.
We’re all hooked up via earpiece so we can hear the commands and remain in contact at all times even if we get separated for whatever reason.
AJ and Marco, appointed leaders of the groups of men, are in direct communication via an earpiece.
Marco and Avery each take one side of the doors, nod at each other, then Marco counts to three out loud, and on the third count, the high-pitched creak of scratching metal from both container doors opening echoes in the night.
We file out quickly, AJ and his men joining us, except Julian, who has been charged with running decoy. I’m pissed off he’s here, but AJ said he has a good reason for getting him involved and to just let him do his job. I don’t argue.
We find hiding spots not too far from each other between the discarded crates and debris nearby. We watch as figures start to move out of warehouse 121 towards the crates. A couple jump on forklifts so they can move the gear from the containers quickly under the cover of darkness.
Marco waves his hand behind him to indicate we should all file in behind.
“Wait for my signal,” instructs Marco.
Julian is chatting to a big guy dressed all in black.
His arms are folded, and he’s squinting into the night.
I could be imagining it, but he doesn’t seem to be buying whatever Julian is telling him.
He looks around and takes in the containers, which are indeed filled to the brim with contraband.
Whatever Julian says seems to placate him, and he allows Julian to lead him to the containers. That’s our cue to make a run for it.
“Go, go, go,” Marco whisper-yells into the earpiece.
We take off, but then there’s a shout from above. Fuck! There must have been someone on watch from a higher position.
“Intruders! Intruders!” sounds the alarm, followed by gunshots that thankfully miss, but no doubt alert every man in this godforsaken warehouse.
The man talking to Julian swings around and catches sight of us making our way towards the open door.
Chaos erupts.
Julian takes his chance to stab him and the big guy doubles over, shouting bloody murder.
It’s now or never. I zone out the cacophony of the fight, determined to get into that warehouse so I can tear it down and find her. The shouting to kill us. The gunfire. The yelling in my ear.
“Keep fucking running!”
“Raf! What are you fucking doing?”
“Shoot!”
“Fuck! I’ve been grazed.”
I get inside and it’s clear.
I pull open the first door I see and am instantly met with one of the enemy’s men, another hot on his heels.
I grab onto the small lip of the door and lift myself in a pull-up, then swing forward, planting my booted feet hard into the first guy’s chest. He falls back, taking out the other guy close behind.
I propel myself over them, leaving them to fight amongst themselves about who’s going to shoot me.
Neither gets the chance because I’m running down a dim hallway now, trying to find any other doors I can that might reveal where Chiara is being held.
“Raf, just fucking tell us you’re okay,” shouts Marco.
“Okay!” I pant but keep running. “Seb?” I ask.
“Okay!”
“AJ?” Marco yells.
We’re only met with heavy breathing.
“Fucking answer me!”
“Yeah, yeah! Good.”
“Xander has been grazed,” pants Avery. “But we’ve got it covered.”
I can hear grunts and the struggle of the fight happening over the earpiece, but I can’t think about it. I just need to find her.
There’s another door at the end of this corridor. I have my hand on the handle when I feel a blow to the right side of my body.
“Arghhh!” I roar as I fold over in pain. I’ve been whacked hard in the side with a steel pole or bat or something.
Marco and Seb start shouting for me to answer them, but I can’t. I’m winded and know I need to push through the pain and lack of oxygen to fight off whoever attacked me.
The person lunges for me again, but I use my current position to my advantage and take him out by tackling him at the knees and dropping him to the floor.
I quickly straddle him to stop him from reaching for the steel bar that clattered to the floor in our scuffle.
He’s a similar height to me but skinny. Adrenaline has kicked in, dulling any pain I feel from the earlier blow to my body.
A bolt of energy surges through me, and I lift my fist and punch the guy hard in the face, busting his nose open.
He shrieks in pain as blood spurts everywhere, running into his eyes and all down his face.
I jump off him and open the door to find stairs leading down to a lower level. I take them two at a time. It’s cooler in here. Like I’m underground. It smells dank. I will my eyes to adjust to the darkness and strain my ears for any sign of her angelic voice.
“Raf. Where the fuck are you?” hisses Marco, like he’s trying to keep quiet.
“Trying to get my fucking wife back.”
“Get the fuck off me!” I hear him say to someone, before I hear what sounds like someone being kicked in the side. And the opening of a door.
“Are you down these stairs?”
Bang!
The sound of a gunshot strangles any hope I had left, and I swear I feel all the blood drain out of me. I run towards the sound, the drag of my body like lead, while the lightheadedness makes me imagine I’m floating above the entire scene.
I reach for my gun. Her gun. Holding it in one hand, I fling open the door.
My last breath is stolen from my body.
She’s sprawled lifelessly on her stomach across the hard, cold floor.
Please angel, open your eyes. Shine those emerald eyes on me so I know you’re still here.
My silent pleas go unanswered. She doesn’t move.
Dark red blood is smeared across her forehead, stuck in her hair near the head gash that looks to be trickling bright red blood anew down her face.
I want to run to her. Scoop her up and breathe life back into her, but Alessandro is standing above her, one heavy boot on her exposed spine, gun in his other hand.
His pupils are blown, and he’s agitated, sweating profusely. I raise my gun and point it at him.
“Ah, hello there Raf. I was waiting for you. I heard there was some action out there, and I was going to come and join the fun,” he says, a maniacal grin on his face. “But I thought, why go to the trouble when I knew you would come to me.”
Click. He takes the safety latch off. “Especially when I’ve got the piece of pussy you think you own.”
“You’re a fucking dead man,” I seethe, adding pressure to the trigger.
“You don’t want to fucking do that,” he says, slightly moving his hand with the gun in it so it’s now pointed at the side of Chiara’s head.
“She just tried and missed. I guess operating a gun with broken ribs and a concussion isn’t optimal.
It’s okay, I’ll make her beg for forgiveness later with my cock shoved down her throat. ”
“I suggest you stop talking about my wife like that.” I should just pull the trigger, but I’m worried that he’ll do the same and then I’ll lose the love of my life—and life without her is no longer an option. She’s my North Star.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he says, waving the gun around. “I’ve heard the news. You married her. I can’t say I’m not mad about it, but I’m back for her now. And whether we leave alive or dead, I’m not leaving without her. She’s fucking mine!” he roars.
“We’re coming. Keep him talking,” comes a voice over my earpiece.
“She’s not going to be much good to you dead,” I say, taking a new tack. I am a fucking lawyer after all.
“And you’re not going to be much good as a lawyer if you’re dead,” he retorts. “Did you like my video message? I always did get Mia and Chiara confused,” he leers. “How is Mia?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” I say simply. “I’m still baffled what good you thought it would do to distribute the film of the woman you say you wanted to be your wife. Doesn’t seem like a very husband-to-be thing to do,” I tsk.
“Shut the fuck up,” he roars. “I may have let them pay good money to look,” he sneers. “But they never got to touch her. I own her.”
“Oh, how honorable,” I say. “Not only that, imagine what she’s going to think when she finds out you’re the reason her parents are fucking dead. That you’re so shit at being a gangster that you didn’t know you had moles loose in your camp.”
At the admission, Chiara’s eyes pop open, lined with tears. “What do you mean?” she croaks up at him.
It gets his attention, and he flicks his eyes away from me.
It’s now or never.
I raise my gun and point it at him. “Eye for an eye, motherfucker,” I growl darkly.
Bang, bang!
Two bullets straight to the heart.
Alessandro goes down heavily, thankfully falling backwards and not on top of Chiara, who is now wracked with sobs, the physical pain no match for the emotional trauma. But it wasn’t me who had the honor of pulling the trigger.
“That’s what I should have done six fucking years ago,” comes AJ’s voice, low and sinister at my back. “You don’t deserve to have a man’s blood on your hands, Raf. Even a piece of shit one who deserved everything he got. You’re better than that.”
I dive to the ground and collect my wife into my arms, uncaring of the pool of blood that’s forming around us, seeping into my clothes.
“Shhh, angel. I’m here. You’re safe,” I whisper, my vision going blurry as her anguished cries echo around us. Her small body is limp, but I can feel the weight of her emotional guilt with each painful sob.
“Raf, you came for me,” is all she manages between gasps and chattering teeth. She trembles with shock and I hold her closer, careful not to squeeze too hard, unsure of the extent of her injuries.
“I would have turned this city upside down to find you,” I whisper, putting my lips to her bloody forehead, the taste of her pain on my tongue, wishing I could lick it all away.
“Raf, get her out of here and into the chopper,” says AJ. “It’s clear out there and we’ll take care of the rest.”
“But what about her injuries? She needs to go to the hospital.”
“Dr. Middleton is waiting in the chopper,” chimes in Marco. I look up to see his face and knuckles are bloodied as well. “He’ll check her immediately, then make house calls to monitor her recovery. Keep this all under the radar. If we need more advanced care, he’ll work something out.”
“Here, cover her,” says Avery, limping over and putting his jacket over her. I should have done that and feel like shit for not thinking of it first, but my priority was having her in my arms.
Seb’s by my side now, also looking worse for wear, part of his shirt ripped off and wrapped around his bicep, stained with blood.
I nod towards it. “What happened?”
“Lost a fight with a knife,” he responds, looking a bit gray.
“Have you lost a lot of blood?” I ask hurriedly.
“I’ll be okay. Just feeling a bit lightheaded. Marco, let’s help him up. There’s no way this lovesick fool is going to let go of his wife,” he says with a small, exhausted smile.
God. I can’t believe the danger each of these men put themselves in for me.
No, for us. She no longer has to worry about feeling alone, because she—we— have a whole army of people willing to put their lives on the line for us.
Hard to imagine how we’ll ever be able to repay them, other than to promise the same in return.
“Let’s get you home, angel,” I murmur into the top of Chiara’s head.
I desperately want to tell her that I love her until it’s all she hears, but not like this.
I want to see the twinkle in her eye and her gorgeous smile when I confess that she owns all the real estate in my heart.
Until her, I was simply existing, but now my existence has meaning.
Chiara is my storm, my silence, my soulmate.