Chapter 13 Saving Friendships
Saving Friendships
Leo
Leo watches the rain fall. It’s chilly in his office, keeping his hands in his pockets as he looks out the window. The door opens, and he flicks his gaze over his shoulder as Jameson strides into the room. His second places folders on the desk before coming to stand next to him.
“They’re back at the hotel,” Jameson states. Leo lets out a long exhale. “Owen started using Eleanor to track down Caltz. He found a bank account still under his deceased father’s name.”
“Last accessed?”
“112 days.”
“Is it empty?”
“A couple thousand still there.”
“Monitor it.” Jameson nods. “Autumn may be right. He could still be in the city.”
“Even with Eleanor, it’ll be almost impossible to find him,” Jameson mutters.
“We’ll fucking find him. Or at least learn who he’s working with because he wouldn’t have lasted this long alone.”
The storm thunders outside, darkening the sky more. Leo reaches into his pants pocket, touching his wedding ring hidden there. It calms him, bringing a sense of clarity.
“Apart from wanting the Marchetti family destroyed, what the fuck else could he want?” Jameson asks.
Leo’s mind flashes to the interrogation room. The seething anger in Caltz’s voice as he questioned Autumn. Every time she defied him and how much more it pissed him off. The satisfaction when he thought he had her.
“It’s not the Marchettis he’s after anymore,” Leo says.
Jameson huffs, putting his hands in his pockets. “Speaking of…how was the phone call with Renato?”
Leo’s jaw flexes, and Jameson exhales sharply.
“You’re still set on going to Rome? What’s to stop Renato from cornering you? Or if Renaldi sides with him?”
“Renaldi won’t,” Leo says assuredly. “We’ll wait a couple more weeks. Allow DeLuca and Finstrum to settle into their new territories. Perhaps Matteo or Gabriel will show if it gets too quiet.”
“If they do? What then?” Jameson looks over at Leo, who keeps his gaze on the rain. “Leo…if we have to, are you willing to kill them?”
Hurt and utter betrayal rips through Leo’s insides. All the choices he made, only to be brought to the very thing he was attempting to avoid—destroying what’s left of his family.
“I don’t know.”
“What about Renato? Cause we’re fucked if he decides to help either of them, especially Gabriel.”
“If he does or tries to take what’s left of my father’s fortune…” Leo turns slowly, scowling coldly, “…we sever everything with the Salvadori family.”
Jameson raises a brow, tilting his head. “That’s not us getting fucked? Going up against the biggest mafia family in Italy?”
“Not when my wife owns the Luciano name, and has given me the ability to bring empires to their knees.” Leo strokes the metal of his ring, face becoming solemn. “And if they come after me, I have faith in Autumn and you.”
Their eyes meet. A long silent agreement passing between them. Jameson clears his throat as he goes to lean against Leo’s desk. A thunderous boom echoes, rain pelting the glass.
“If he goes after Autumn instead?” A darkness comes over Leo. “It’s why you’re keeping the marriage secret, not wholly because she inherits your grandmother’s legacy. He’ll target her.”
Leo steps over to his desk, opening one of the folders Jameson brought in and closes it.
“Spartan,” Jameson murmurs, pressing for an answer.
“You’ll do what’s needed.” Leo’s answer almost makes Jameson pale, realization forming on his face.
Leo opens a desk drawer, grabbing some paperwork when he notices the false bottom isn’t reset completely. He scowls heavily.
Jameson stands. “Leo, you can’t—"
There’s a loud knock and Leo shoves the drawer closed. “Enter.”
“We’re not done talking about this,” Jameson mutters.
Leo ignores him as Isaac walks in, whose expression is pokerfaced as he stops near the couches. Jameson frowns, disappointment radiating from him.
“I’ll handle this, get things ready for the meetings with DeLuca and Petrinolli,” Leo instructs grimly.
Jameson exhales sharply, stalking out of the office, but not before growling a couple words in Spanish. The side door slams shut, and Isaac glances at where he disappeared. “Don’t need a translator for that.”
Leo stares at him, chest tightening with a turmoil of emotions. Slowly, he steps around the desk, aiming for his wife’s bodyguard. Isaac doesn’t move, placing his hands behind his back.
“I apologize for breaking protocol, disappearing, and evading security,” Isaac states as Leo approaches.
“Although I technically work for your wife, I understand if my job is now moot.
Or that what I did is grounds for expulsion from the club due to my actions towards you and your Old Lady. Whatever your choice is, I—"
Suddenly, Leo grabs him and pulls him into a firm embrace.
Isaac’s breath catches, his arms stiff at his sides.
Leo’s chest rises heavily, fingers clenching into the back of Isaac’s shirt.
Carefully, Isaac brings his arms up to return the gesture.
The two men hug in silence as the storm rumbles outside.
Emotions muddle Leo’s mind, but he can’t let go of the overwhelming relief knowing one of his closest people, and friend, isn’t holding a knife to his back.
Isaac’s hand lands on the nape of Leo’s neck, firmly holding him as Leo shudders.
“Always brothers, Spartan,” Isaac murmurs. “Since your blooded ones are fucking cunts.”
Leo snorts. And then responds in a rough voice, “Always brothers.”
Autumn
I lean against the elevator wall while Chiari stands across from me.
“Should I be happier that our inner circle isn’t broken,” Chiari starts, breaking the silence. “Or that finally one of the Crew is willing to have a relationship outside their little club?”
I snort. “Dare you to call it that to their faces, but let me grab popcorn first.”
She chuckles as the doors open to the first floor, and we walk out. It’s late. The hotel somewhat quiet.
“Not eyeing any of them, are you?” I frankly ask.
“No,” she smirks. “Don’t swing that way.”
I blink, pausing a moment before we get to the security room. Leanne’s right; I’m surrounded.
I knock and Mickey opens the door. I’m given his wide grin, then am quickly pulled into a hug. “Thank fuck your plan worked. And you’re okay.”
“Same to you.”
He steps back, nodding once at Chiari. “Ms. Pierozzi.”
Logan spins in his chair, smiling at me with a wink as he pulls over another chair for me. Mikey pulls his out for Chiari, who sits and adjusts her suede jacket.
“Any movement or suspicious activity?” I ask, flicking my gaze to the monitors.
“Nothing, including since Bobby dropped the briefcase off,” Logan answers, and leans down to hold up said briefcase.
“I’ve noticed nothing since I picked up the laptop from the café,” Chiari adds. “But what about service areas? Kitchens?”
“Nope,” Mikey answers next, leaning onto the table with his mug of hot chocolate. “And nada while you were gone, Autumn. Bit too quiet, honestly. Everyone’s doing their jobs per usual.”
“Everyone did clear the background checks,” Logan says, bringing up monitors on several areas. “Maybe whoever snitched on your schedule wasn’t hotel personnel.”
“What about extra…personnel? Security?” Mikey raises a brow, looking at me pointedly. “Could’ve hacked our shit and figured out your schedule.”
“We weren’t hacked,” Logan interjects. “Not with the firewalls Autumn put in. Wouldn’t Morton notice, too?”
“They would’ve,” I answer. Isaac, Julio, and Owen would’ve all noticed, especially after my first disappearing act.
“Then there’s a mole somewhere,” Mikey says. “Problem is who and where.”
“I hate that we have nothing after an entire week,” Chiari mutters, leaning back in her seat. “There has to be someone else.”
“Let’s go through some of the footage again, maybe we missed someone,” Logan suggests, flicking the monitors back.
I stare at the monitor showing the foyer of the apartment. It’s empty aside from the table and flowers on it.
Out of every person caught and interrogated, not a single one knew my schedule.
Parts of it, maybe, but not enough to pinpoint where myself and Leo would be.
It wasn’t always the same. There were days I’d randomly go to the bookstore, work on bikes, go back to the apartment, or help hotel staff.
Someone was watching as I’ve been watching the guests these past few months.
Whoever it was knew to learn the patterns of the Crew and me in the hotel.
My eyes go to the monitor for the private elevator, and watch it flick off. It’s programed to turn off when it reaches the apartment floor or further up and will turn back on when it reaches the floor underneath. Privacy.
“There’s no cameras on the top floor, offices…” I say out loud, “…but there are in the private elevator. But it turns off.”
“Uh, yeah,” Logan murmurs. “You kinda know why.”
“Leo’s been in his office all day?” I ask.
“Mostly, yes,” Chiari answers.
“Who has access to the space?”
“Crew, couple of managers, us,” Mikey answers. “Small list.”
“Anyone use it while we were at the penthouse?”
“Myself and Jameson,” Chiari says. “Only he and I have keys to his office when he’s gone.”
“Rest is locked up,” Mikey adds. “Until he comes back, but oh, housekeeping has access, too.”
I go very still, blood running cold while the other three exchange looks. Housekeeping. Hide in plain sight. Realization must hit them next because they all start swearing under their breath.
“They all passed their background checks,” Chiari breathes out. “Multiple checks.”
“People can lie,” Logan mutters.
“Well, fuck,” Mikey grunts.
“Bring up the private elevator feed.” Logan quickly does as I say, while I pull my phone out and call Leo.
The monitors change, moving to different timestamps beginning with when Leo and I left the hotel. We watch as normal activity commences.
The line picks up. “Autumn?”
Thank fuck we’ve moved on to him answering his own phone.
“The key in your desk, is it still there?” I can feel Logan and Mikey look at each other.
“No,” Leo answers after a pause. Fear wiggles up my spine. “It was here yesterday afternoon.”
My stomach drops, watching the few people who could use the elevators. A sickly feeling overwhelms me as horror crawls over my skin of who may have turned on me.
“Last night, around 7,” I whisper to Logan. The video feed changes, images blurring until the elevator is empty. Until someone gets on, and the feed cuts off as they go up to the top floor. Someone alone.
“Autumn?” Leo asks in a hushed tone.
I stare at the monitor, tapping Logan’s shoulder to freeze the frame when the video comes back. Timestamp shows in and out, ten minutes.
Isaac hadn’t stabbed us in the back, but as despair reaches for me, I stare at the one who’s sinking the knife into mine.