31. Lars
Cash stands at the head of the table, arms crossed, jaw set. Hale’s already pacing, boots heavy against the floor as he scrolls through photos on a tablet.
“Falco’s moving,” Cash says.
Hale flicks the screen toward me, and I see the satellite shots and surveillance stills. A warehouse district just south of the city.
“He’s taken three warehouses in the last forty-eight hours,” Hale says. “Clean acquisitions. No bodies—yet.”
I lean over the table, palms flat against the surface, eyes scanning the map.
“Yet,” I repeat. “Enzo said Falco’s men took a safe house in Chicago last night. There were two of our associates and their families there. We’re sure they’re in Falco’s hands now.”
“He’s consolidating his forces, and I bet Maravilla is helping him,” Cash adds. “Men are coming in from the Valley. He’s keeping his men in Chicago while building forces here.”
Anger floods through me. “He’s foolish if he thinks starting a war on two fronts will end well. Do you think Maravilla is the one supplying the men from the Valley?”
“Maravilla has been quiet, pretty sure that’s not a coincidence,” Hale says. “He knows Austin isn’t your home turf.”
“This might not be my home, but he knows the Marchetti loyalty lies with The Saints,” I say quietly. “This city is under my protection. Your territory is my focus. My wife is here. Falco doesn’t get to test boundaries without consequences.”
Hale’s eyes go wide. “Wife?”
“Neomi and I got married in Vegas.” Every time I say it out loud, it becomes more real.
Cash runs his hand down his face. “Fucking hell.”
Hale laughs. “You just love making things harder than they have to be, don’t you?”
Cash leans over the table. “Have you upped your protection? She’ll be a target now. Does she know that?”
I meet his eyes. “She knows enough. And I have men assigned to her.” I shrug. “Not that she knows that, but I have eyes on her at all times.”
Cash nods once. “Smart.”
Hale blows out a heavy breath. “So, what is our next move? We have your reinforcements doing surveillance, our men are purposefully more visible on our properties.”
I walk to the wall and look at the picture of Maravilla on one side of the board, then to Falco’s on the other. The lines between them cross, there’s a common goal and we need to cut the ties.
“Does Maravilla have a wife?” I tap the image. “I didn’t see any mention of one in the file.”
Cash comes to my side, tipping his jaw toward the board. “He prefers to pay for the company of women. There’s one son that we know of—sixteen years old, at a private school in Dallas.”
“Fuck. My family never goes after children—”
My phone sounds with the ring tone designated for Neomi’s detail. I pick up the call before the second ring.
“Talk.”
Ramon’s voice comes through the call: “Sir, we’ve identified a tail on Mrs. Marchetti. Black sedan, Florida plates. We’re currently engaged.”
The foreign feeling of fear spikes through my body. I bring up their location app and see they’re heading east out of the city.
“Stay on them. Remember, her safety is your number one concern. You have permission to do what it takes to neutralize any threat.”
“Yes sir.”
“I’m on my way.”
I hang up the call just as a text comes through from Neomi. My focus narrows instantly.
Neomi:
I think I’m being followed.
Hale steps toward me. “What happened?”
“My wife is being followed,” I say, voice tense.
Hale moves first. “Send Cash the coordinates.”
Cash reaches for his radio. “Saints—lock it down. Possible tail on Chicago’s wife.”
I hit call on Neomi’s thread.
“Lars?” Her voice shakes and it makes me feel fucking sick.
“Bella, I need you to keep driving. I’m going to send you the location of the Saints Compound, come straight here.”
“There’s two cars.”
“One is my men. Just keep driving.”
“Your men? Lars, what the—”
“I want you to concentrate on staying safe. I’ll see you in a couple of minutes. I promise.”
“Okay.”
I send her the location pin and pocket my phone. I turn to Hale. “Have your men work with mine to box them in. I want them extracted alive. I want answers.”
“And if it’s Falco’s work?” Hale asks.
My jaw tightens.
“Then he just signed his death warrant.”
We spill out of the war room, boots pounding concrete, engines already roaring to life outside.
Hale shouts to the woman behind the bar, “Shelby, Chicago’s wife will be here in a couple of minutes, I need you to take her into the safe room.”
She throws down her bar towel and follows us outside to stand at the door. I slide into my car, start it, and check my phone again. I bring up the tracking app that I installed on Neomi’s phone the day after we were married.
I watch the pin turn in the direction of the compound. Good girl.
I peel out of the parking lot, tires screaming as I cut onto the road, every instinct locked onto one singular truth.
Falco made a mistake.
The city blurs past my windshield as I follow the GPS pin.
Cash’s voice cuts through the radio. “Visual confirmed. Black sedan, two car lengths back. Driver’s keeping pace. Your men right behind.”
My hands tighten on the wheel. “I’m giving my men the direction to disable the car.”
Neomi’s car turns onto a wider stretch of road near the river heading east. The black sedan follows.
I call my men. “I want you to disable the tail. Make sure they aren’t compromised. I want them in our custody.”
I hang up, then call Neomi. “Bella, my men are going to take out the car following you. I want you to stay calm and keep driving to the compound. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“You’re doing so good, Neomi. Just stay calm and I’ll be right behind you.”
Seconds later, I hear the pop of tires, the squeal of rubber and the loud directives of my men. I watch Neomi drive on and I break, watching the sedan spin in front of us. My men have their weapons drawn, stepping toward the car.
Cash exhales through the radio. “Target disabled.”
My chest loosens by a fraction, but my focus stays razor sharp.
“Neomi,” I say into the phone, keeping my voice calm. “Don’t look back. Keep driving. You’re almost there.”
“I heard it,” she says, breathing quickly. “The shots.”
“I know. You did exactly what you were supposed to do.” I check the GPS again and watch the pin continue to move. “I’m right behind you. I’m going to hang up now, when you get to the compound, a woman named Shelby will meet you outside.”
I hang up the call and then I’m out of the driver's seat before the engine finishes ticking, fury raging under my skin. The driver’s door of the sedan opens before I reach it.
“Hands up,” I shout, raising my gun. “Now.”
He freezes.
Cash comes up on the other side, weapon drawn but pointed at the ground. Hale circles behind, blocking any fantasy of escape this asshole might have.
The man raises his hands slowly. He’s younger than I expected, visibly nervous with sweat already dampening the hair at his temples.
“Get out and put your hands on the car,” I order.
He complies, stumbling as he places his hands on the hood of the car.
I grab him by the collar and slam him against the hood, not hard enough to kill him, but hard enough to make my point clear. His breath leaves him in a sharp gasp.
“You were following my wife,” I say, leaning in just enough to let him know exactly how close he is to dying. “You’re going to tell me why.”
“I—I was just watching,” he stammers. “I didn’t touch her. I swear.”
“Who sent you,” Cash snaps.
The man swallows hard. “I wasn’t given a name, just instructions.”
I tighten my grip. “Instructions from where?”
“Chicago,” he blurts. “All I know is that the contact was from Chicago.”
Falco.
Hale’s jaw tightens. “What instructions were you given?”
The man shakes frantically. “Keep my eyes on her, maybe scare her a little.”
I shove his body down on the hood and step back half a pace, forcing myself to breathe. I look at the man again, cataloging every tremor. Rage burns hot and violently through my veins.
“Were you the one who followed her from the poker game?”
He doesn’t answer, just shakes on the hood of the car.
I press my gun to his temple. “Answer me!”
“Yes! Fuck. Yes, it was me.”
I look at Cash and tilt my head back, telling him to step away. I need to release my anger and fear.
Cash backs away, reading me without question.
The silence stretches, taut and waiting, before I aim my gun.
The sound of the shot cracks through the air around us, the recoil vibrating through my arm as the bullet tears into the man’s foot.
He screams, the sound raw as his body buckles, hands scrambling uselessly against the hood as blood spills fast and dark over the concrete.
I don’t move toward him, I just watch, chest rising and falling, the echo of the gunshot still ringing in my ears while the pain I put into him settles something vicious and demanding inside my ribs.
“You’re lucky it was just your foot,” I tell him. “But I need you alive for the time being.”
He sobs against the hood as I turn to Cash.
“Do you have somewhere you can keep him?”
Cash nods. “Yeah. We’ll meet you back at the compound.”
I walk back to my car, the need to hold Neomi growing too strong to bear.