Chapter 36
thirty-six
I hated leaving my wife’s side this morning. Her body was warm and snuggled up to mine. She had thrown a leg over one of my own, one hand splayed over my heart possessively. That is what I want to wake up to every morning.
The sight of my wife lying beside me stirred something primal in my chest. We are nowhere close to being all right. Even though she clings to me during sex and seeks out my embrace in the night as she sleeps, knowing I will keep her safe, there is still a long journey ahead of us.
My plan was to take her with me to this meeting, but an unexpected visitor showed up on Kavanaugh’s doorstep.
Kenzi looked worn and beaten down. For all her stoicism, she is still yet a child whose life was taken from her too early.
She never got to experience what it is like to truly grow into an adult.
Instead, she was shoved into the deep end without a life jacket and expected to come out alive.
Currently, I am seated between Vas and Dante Romano at Augustu La Rosa’s estate in West Seattle.
I am fond of the estate. The house is large and modern, with big open windows and state-of-the-art appliances.
I have been searching for a place myself, but everything comes up lacking.
This house fits my fancy and matches the modern design of the penthouse that is blown to hell, but it isn’t Ava’s, and I want something that can fit both our personalities. A modern sort of bohemian vibe.
Bohemian. My skin crawls at the word, but the eclectic, soft tones and open décor make her happy, and that is all that matters.
There is a Queen Anne Victorian that caught my eye.
It was built in 2008 and has an old-world charm and modern subset that speaks to my soul and that I know will speak to Ava’s.
I personally know the architect who designed it and have already scheduled a tour.
It is just on the edge of Columbia City, so the drive to the office won’t be terrible, and there are plenty of back roads to take.
I am still waiting on the zoning commission to approve my proposal for rebuilding Dashkov Enterprises.
No one other than the fire marshal is aware of what really caused the building to collapse.
The leading story the fire marshal gave the media was a gas explosion, and the secondary investigators all concurred.
Still, they are dragging their feet for some reason, and I don’t like it.
Arctic Security has plenty of room for me to work out of, but it doesn’t have the same capacity as the other building, which served multiple purposes.
“I don’t care about what you want, you ungrateful manello,” Augustu spits at his son. “There will be no treaty between us unless my conditions are met.”
Here we go.
Augustu La Rosa is after more territory than he can handle. His initial thought was to build an alliance through marriage, but as his last wife—and the three before that—all mysteriously died, I am not willing to set that up. Neither is Dante Romano.
The man is a fool, which is why Leon left. Well, he was kicked out when he was seventeen, but that isn’t how Augustu sees it. He gave his son a choice, and according to him, he chose wrong.
I am inclined to disagree.
When I heard through the underground that Leon La Rosa forsook his father and his right to be heir to the La Rosa name, I was intrigued. La Cosa Nostra is a lot of things, but I never imagined that someone like Leon existed within them.
Augustu was best friends with Benedito Romano, Dante’s father.
The two carved a bloody name for themselves in the city.
They owned half of it and greedily sought to stretch their grasp beyond their borders.
It led to an all-out war with the Irish, which is why Kavanaugh was not invited to this meeting.
When Dante murdered his father, he cut all ties with Augustu and how he ran his business.
Sex workers. Slaves. Bad dope. He built quite the reputation for himself, and not a good one.
I took more than half of his old territory when I entered the city.
Territory that was rightfully mine since it belonged to the Bratva leader before me. The one he beheaded in the streets.
That was a news day for sure.
From what Leon tells me, his father is unhinged and becoming increasingly so each day. Sitting before him now, I can see that.
“Why won’t you help?” Leon questions his father. “If the McDonoughs gain ground, it will do nothing but shove you out and kill you and all your men.”
Augustu scoffs. “Let them try, eh?” He spits. “We Sicilians are built of stronger stuff than those Irish bastards. They will have nothing. Nada. You will see.”
“This is a waste of time,” Dante murmurs from beside me. His voice is low enough that Augustu can’t hear. “He either truly believes that they won’t touch him, or he’s in league with them.”
“The McDonoughs don’t seem like the people to make a deal with Augustu.
” I sneak a peek at the room. It is simple, barely any pictures on the wall and hardly any memorabilia.
The house is well kept, but there are obviously things missing.
I doubt anyone in the household is stupid enough to steal from Augustu, but I have heard rumors about his famous temper.
He most likely broke most of his things in fits of rage.
Whoever the McDonoughs are working for or whatever they are a part of will not risk making a deal with someone so unstable.
One slip is all it would take.
My phone beeps in my hand. A missed call from Liam. My heart races and anxiety digs through me at the thought of something happening to Ava. I go to dial him back, not caring about Augustu, when a text message comes through.
Liam
911 at Dante Romano’s. Kenzi after Kendra. Come quick.
“We are done here.” I stand abruptly from my chair, passing the phone to Dante as I button my jacket. “You are obviously not going to help and have very little self-preservation. So, we will talk at a later time. Say goodbye, Leon.”
Leon nods at his father and turns toward the door.
“That’s right,” Augustu sneers. “Follow after your master, you little cagna.”
With a snarl, I lunge forward, ensnaring Augustu’s shirt collar in my grasp, and yank him toward me. He is sprawled over his desk, the angle forcing his head back. His face is red and splotchy as fury rolls through him.
At his furious scream, the door to the office flies open, his guards storming into the room, but we are ready. With my one hand still on Augustu’s collar, I draw my Beretta from the small of my back and aim it at the door. Dante and my men follow suit. My eyes never leave the man in my grasp.
“Your son is ten times the man you will ever be,” I growl at him, lips turned up in a vicious snarl. “Insult him again, and those will be the last words you ever utter. Understood?”
Augustu pales at my words but remains silent, defiance still sparking in his eyes.
“Understood?” I roar in his face, my hand tightening on his collar, choking him.
“Yes,” he gasps, clawing at my hand. “I understand.”
I tighten my grip just a little, holding on to him for a few more seconds to make sure he gets my point. Then I release him. The old man sputters and chokes as he rights himself. He glares at all of us but keeps silent.
Good. If he utters another word, I am liable to kill him, and that is not a headache I need at the moment.
“Let us go,” I command as I stride through the door.
Augustu’s men part like the Red Sea as I move past them, none of them wanting to risk drawing my ire.
We have already wasted precious time, and I am in a hurry to get to Dante’s house.
The extra time is worth it, however. It is my job to ensure my men know I have their backs and will defend them.
“He’s growing bold,” Leon mutters as he opens the driver’s side door to the Mercedes and climbs in. “It’s going to be a problem,” he predicts when I take my place in the passenger seat. Dante is in the car in front of us, and Vas is in the one trailing behind us.
Leon pulls out of his father’s circular drive and speeds down the suburban road toward the highway after Dante. Picking up my phone, I dial Liam.
“Please tell me you’re on your way,” he whisper-shouts into the phone. I can hear yelling in the background and the sound of something shattering.
“We are getting on the freeway now,” I tell him. “Less than ten minutes.”
Liam breathes a sigh of relief. “Might want to try and cut that in half,” he warns. “I’m not sure if I can keep either one of the girls from shooting Kendra if she keeps running her mouth like she is.”
“Khristos,” I groan, telling Leon to step on it. “What the hell are they even doing there?”
“One moment they are talking at the dining room table, and the next, Kenzi is rushing out and Ava’s crying,” Liam informs me.
“The next thing I know, Ava’s got this grand idea that Kenzi is going after Kendra, and she wasn’t wrong.
Bridget caught it a little late because the intrusion came from within our own building.
Looks like Kenzi hacked into our database to find her location. ”
Rolling my eyes, I groan, the frustration mounting. “Explains why she suddenly showed up this morning without an explanation.”
“I was hoping it was to reconcile with Ava,” I grumble, wincing at the sudden pitch of the vehicle to the left as Dante takes a sharp, sudden curb. “Fuck, he drives like a loony bin.”
Leon chuckles.
“If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure they are reconciled,” Liam coughs awkwardly. “It just might be over Kendra’s dead body instead of a nice cup of coffee.”
“You could put an end to it, you know,” I point out. We are pulling into the Romano compound now.
Liam snorts. “I am not getting between an assassin and her target. Go for it.”
Coward.
We watch as Dante throws his car into park in front of the house and dashes from the driver’s seat and through the front door.