Chapter 35
LEO
Glass shatters, echoing against the walls.
I thought throwing something would make me feel better, but I can’t escape the invisible hand squeezing my chest.
“We know where they are,” Dante says, throwing his hands in the air. “Why aren’t we there already?”
“We need a plan,” Michael says, being the only voice of reason in this room. “It’s obviously a trap. If we let Leo walk in there empty-handed—”
“So what? It’s his fault my sister is in this position. I don’t give a shit what happens to him. I’m not losing her.”
“He’s right,” I reply weakly, exhausted from the rollercoaster of guilt and anger. “Mia is the priority.”
Michael mumbles something under his breath, but it’s hard to hear over the voice in the back of my head. I hear his footsteps approaching, but I can’t bother to lift my head when he comes into my peripheral.
“You honestly can’t be this dumb. You know this is a trap.”
“I need her back, Michael. I can’t explain it. I just do.”
“You don’t have to explain,” he sighs. “You’re in love with her.”
It’s true.
Every breath, heartbeat, and step feels meaningless without her beside me. When I lost my parents, the DeLuca’s gave me a second chance at a family. I’ve never felt lonely with them in my life. But what I didn’t realize is I didn’t have to feel lonely to be incomplete.
She filled that last little void in my soul and made me hopeful for the future for the first time in a long time.
And now she’s gone, and everything feels gray again.
Dante scoffs from across the room, finally taking a break from his meaningless pacing. “Great. He’s in love. Can we move on before my sister ends up in the bottom of the Hudson?”
I ignore him, looking up at Michael. His expression is unreadable as usual. “If you go in there like this, he’s going to use your emotion against you. That’s what he does.”
“I know how he operates,” I say, gritting my teeth.
“Well, then start acting like it.”
He’s right. I’ve been underestimating Adrian as another person in Enzo’s pockets, but I was wrong.
And not only is Mia suffering because of my ignorance, but her brother died because of it too.
I hang my head, resting my elbows on my knees. I need to think. Really think.
“Where’s the address he sent?”
Michael hands me his phone with a map pulled up. “Northern New Jersey. Practically the middle of nowhere with woods on all sides and only one access road in and out.”
“So, it’s a suicide mission.”
“It’s the perfect place to keep two hostages,” Michael says plainly, like this is just another day.
I stare at the map, going down a list of things we do know.
Adrian doesn’t want me dead. He could’ve easily had me killed the night of my accident.
And if he didn’t need me for something, Mia would already be dead.
He wants me to walk in desperate and ready to do anything to get her back. He wants me to grovel and beg for his forgiveness.
It’s what I would want if I was in his position.
“He’s expecting me to bring backup, so I go in alone.”
“Absolutely not,” Michael growls.
“You said it yourself. He wants me vulnerable and desperate, and that’s exactly what I’m going to give him.”
“And while he’s focused on you, we get Mia and Keith out,” Dante says, finishing my thought.
“Exactly.”
And then I turn to Michael and say, “Your priority is saving Mia. I can take care of myself.”
He opens his mouth to argue but quickly clamps it shut after scanning my face.
“Got it?” I ask, waiting for him to give me verbal confirmation.
“Yes,” he says, slowly swiveling his neck to survey the mess that was created when Adrian’s men kidnapped Mia and Keith. “Wait.”
“What now?” Dante asks, his footsteps approaching from behind.
Michael ignores his question and moves toward the evidence board in the middle of the room. Papers are scattered across the floor, and there’s a chair lying on its side that must’ve gotten overturned during the struggle. There’s also a bullet hole carved into the far wall mocking me.
I dig my fingernails into my thighs.
I know she wouldn’t have gone down without a fight. I picture all the times she fought me and never backed down. Not once. Even when I desperately wanted her to.
My girl is a fighter and she will survive this.
My eyes trail after Michael as he crouches beside a laptop that’s been thrown on the concrete. The screen is cracked and glitching in some places, but still glowing.
“They didn’t take it?” I ask, scratching the back of my neck.
“They were probably in a hurry,” Michael guesses. He picks up the device and moves toward the table. He grabs the discarded chair and goes to work trying to revive it.
“We don’t have time for this,” Dante huffs, crossing his arms.
I hold up my hand to silence him. “Can you figure out what they were looking at last?”
“Yeah,” Michael replies. “These idiots didn’t do a good job at getting rid of the evidence—” and then he pauses, his face freezing in place. After a few seconds, he swallows hard and turns the screen toward me. “This is the last active screen.”
And then I see two faces on the screen, side by side.
A chill crawls up my spine.
Marco Bellini.
Adrian Moretti.
Underneath the images, Keith has his notes app pulled up with the words: Same person?
Dante steps behind me, looking over his shoulder. “No fucking way.”
Michael slowly rises from his seat, confusion wrinkling his face. “He faked his death. Why?”
The walls of the warehouse suddenly feel too enclosed. Even with cold air blasting through the hole I created in the window, I feel hot.
Every memory I have of Adrian crashes to the front of my mind as I overanalyze each interaction.
He manipulated me. Lied to me. But why?
I guess there’s only one way to find out.
“He killed Vince,” I say hoarsely.
Dante lets out a scream before kicking a nearby chair hard enough for it to sail across the floor into the opposite wall. “I’m going to make him wish he died in that fire. Fucking bastard.”
“Fuck,” I seethe, gripping the edge of the table. “That means Mia knows, and if she knows, Adrian—”
“Don’t finish that fucking sentence,” Dante says, his chest heaving up and down. “We’re getting my sister out of there and now.”
“We will,” I promise, grabbing the gun from my waistband to make sure it’s loaded. “But first we need a plan.”
“I don’t need a plan,” Dante argues, grabbing his own gun. “I just need a gun and an opening.”
I frown, already hating the words about to come out of my mouth. “We can’t kill him.”
Dante lets out a bitter laugh. “You better be joking.”
“I’m not,” I say. “Adrian is connected. He has cops, judges, and politicians in his pocket. Not to mention his network within the Carusos. We need him to destroy Enzo and help clear Mia’s record.”
Michael shuts the laptop. “Leo’s right. If we kill him, we’ll just create more problems and put a target on our backs.”
Dante takes a step back, looking between us like we’ve both lost our minds. At some point, his fists unfurl, and he lowers his shoulders.
“Fine,” he snaps, “but if he so much as harms a hair on my sister’s head, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet between his eyes.”
I nod, grabbing my keys off the table and heading toward the exit.
If Adrian does hurt her, Dante won’t get a chance to take his shot.
I’ll kill him with my bare hands.
I give Michael a discreet nod, knowing he’s hidden in the tree line somewhere. And then I step out of the car, sinking my shiny black shoes into the harsh gravel of the driveway.
I’m dressed head to toe in the black suit I made Georgia bring me before we left. It’s a tiny detail, but Adrian will be thrown off by it.
He expects me to be a mess. Come barreling in without any thought.
But tonight, I’m going to use everything he taught me against him. And he’s going to wish he never fucked with me or my girl.
The first thing I notice as I approach the colonial-style home is that there are no armed guards, no black SUVs, and no visible cameras. It looks like the typical house of someone who needs to escape the city.
But I’m not na?ve. There are still threats; they’re just hidden.
I climb the front steps cautiously, allowing myself time to get my movements under control.
The door swings open as soon as I lift my arm to knock.
A large man fills the doorway, with a familiar build that was strong enough to make my airbags explode.
“Boss made it seem like you’d come in guns blazing. I’m disappointed,” he says smugly, eyes trailing up from my shoes to the top of my head.
He places his hands on his hips, purposely lifting his jacket enough so I can see the handgun tucked into his waistband.
“I’m disappointed Adrian is letting an ape greet me at the door. Not the first-class treatment I was hoping for,” I reply coolly, even though all I want to do is ask about Mia. The thought of this man even looking at her is enough to make me want to tear out his eyes and shove them down his throat.
I put a pin in that plan for later.
The giant growls under his breath, clenching his hands into two large fists. “Listen here, you privileged son of—”
“James,” Adrian calls out calmly from somewhere inside the house. “Don’t antagonize our guest. Search him and bring him here.”
James huffs out a rough acknowledgment and steps aside so I can enter. As soon as I’m in, the door slams shut behind me and warm air brushes across my face, carrying the distinct scent of whiskey and cigar smoke.
The inside of the house looks even more inconspicuous from the outside.
Soft jazz hums quietly throughout the space, and the walls are decorated with outdated wallpaper and art that looks like it costs way too much.
Definitely not what I would picture for a mafia bad guy trying to intimidate his guests.
My surveillance is interrupted by the feeling of Adrian’s goon aggressively patting me down, clearly enjoying himself a little too much. I don’t break a sweat when his hand pauses over my gun.
He smirks, sliding the gun out of my waistband before stepping back. “You won’t be needing this,” he hums, clearly amused with himself. “Follow me.”