Chapter 46
JOSEPH
Like a well-oiled machine, we shift the gears and all fall into place, as we have done many times before.
We each have our strengths.
Nico, the organizer, the master behind the plan.
Julius is the demon in our midst with no morality.
The perfect executioner, whereas Simeon prefers to take his time and is the anger, the strength and the power behind the punch.
Then there’s me. The reluctant participant, too many demons to cloud my rationality.
I’m the one liable to crack. To slay, to mutilate, and to act before asking questions.
I wouldn’t want to be in a room with all of us and this time there is an added complication.
We have three very important things to lose.
* * *
We are in position near the last drop of the food delivery truck, information acquired by one of our trusted consiglieres who we cannot operate without.
My men do their job, and the driver is soon otherwise occupied, bound, gagged, and detained until the operation is over.
Innocent men have nothing to fear; merely a diversion on their day. If they fight back, though, it’s another matter entirely.
As we head into the back of the van, I second-guess Nico’s decision in allowing the girls to participate. It’s as if my mind is racing, warning fear to stay away because I will not be liable for my actions if anyone threatens my wife.
I hold her hand tightly as is becoming customary and as we head for the service entrance; I arm my pistol with the other hand and train it on the door.
I say pistol. This one has been custom made and can blow a hole the size of a wrecking ball through the unfortunate person on the other end.
It is designed to blast holes in doors, concrete even and is always my preferred chosen weapon.
Two of my men are inside with us, and silence prevails except for the ticking clock inside my head.
I hate every second of this because Tiffany is by my side.
I have no regard for my safety, but I am terrified for hers.
The only reason she’s here at all is because this is her demon to fight.
I understand her sister’s insistence; hell, I would have done the same, but I don’t have to like it.
Voices are outside and then there are none. Tiffany’s eyes are wide as the door rattles.
A gruff voice whispers, “All clear, boss.” before he opens the door, stepping to the side as I grip her hand, following my men out of the small space.
They clear the route and we step inside the back door, shielded from the cameras that record every second of the day and night. As we creep into the kitchen, three dead bodies lie at our feet; my men silencing them for eternity as they cruelly extinguish any threat.
Tiffany’s voice trembles as she whispers, “The main house is upstairs. Morgan could be anywhere.”
The nearest guard whispers, “Giorgio has control of the security office, and the cameras show Morgan is entertaining a man in the dining room.”
“Entertaining?”
I need clarity on that and he states simply, “They are eating.”
“Any ID on the guy?”
His expression is ominous.
“Raphael Demitri.”
“Fuck.”
I shake my head and instruct my guard, “Alert the others. There will be added security, and now there are two sets of guards to remove. This is a fucking bloodbath.”
I grip Tiffany’s hand, shaking my head to her unspoken questions and whisper, “Where is the dining room?”
“We can use the service staircase. It leads into it. There is an elevator to deliver the food if you prefer.”
“The staircase.”
She points to a set of steps in the corner of the kitchen and I turn to my guard.
“Any news on the others?”
“Julius and Rose are currently inside waiting for Morgan to agree to meet with them. They are playing the perfect visitor.”
“Then we wait.”
My heart is thumping as I wait for the chess pieces to be in position because rushing in would only jeopardize the plan.
Tiffany glances around her and whispers fearfully, “I can’t see any of the staff. Surely if they are dining together, they would be busy in the kitchen.”
She makes a valid point. Where are the staff?
The guard hears her question and murmurs into his headset, and as the minutes tick by, we wait for an answer.
He turns to me and, as always, his expression remains impassive as he whispers, “They ordered takeout. Apparently, there are no domestic staff signed in today.”
“That’s odd.”
Tiffany appears confused. “There is always a housekeeper and two more staff, even when the house is empty.”
I’m uneasy about this. Demitri is here, Morgan is here, and their guards are here, so why are there no staff?
I sense a trap, and my first thought is to get Tiffany the hell away from here. She grips my hand tightly and whispers, “Perhaps we should listen in on their conversation. It may help.”
“Listen in?”
She grins. “My father trusted nobody. He had good cause not to, and set up spyware in all his homes. The device was connected to his phone via software, and if his computer is still in his den, I know the password.”
“Where is his den?”
“It’s on the same level as the dining room, accessed via a different staircase. Perhaps if we leave Rose and Julius to pay them a visit, we can listen in and make our plans based on how that goes.”
Pride blooms in my chest for my wife because she is quick thinking and unafraid, and I appreciate those qualities in her—a lot.
It also strikes me that it’s a good job Enrico is dead already because if he heard everything that went on in his homes, he must have turned a blind eye to Morgan’s cruel treatment of the girls.
“Lead the way.”
She nods, a mischievous grin replacing the worried frown, and as we follow her silently through her former home, I wonder how this will end.
The house appears deserted, and as we creep through it, my guard with the headset liaises with the one in the camera room, and we avoid any patrolling guards. There are two, the rest remaining outside and it appears that Morgan is not expecting trouble, which suits our purpose perfectly.
We reach Enrico’s den, and Tiffany wastes no time settling behind his desk. Her fingers fly over the keyboard, and soon we hear Morgan’s shrill voice as if she is in the same room with us.
“It’s a fucking trap, I tell you.”
“So it would seem.”
Raphael’s tone is measured, calm even, the opposite to Morgan’s.
“How many guards do we have?”
“Not enough if you’re right.”
“Fuck, why did we not prepare for this?”
“Turn them away. They can’t do anything; this place is a fortress.”
“I need to think.”
Morgan sounds frightened, and she should be and huffs, “I’ll call the Monza mafia. They are our nearest allies.”
“It will take them one hour to get here, and that’s only if they are happy to start a war with Giovanni Ravera.”
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
Morgan is almost screeching, and Tiffany’s smile tells me she’s loving this.
“Just calm the fuck down, Morgan, and think.”
Raphael’s voice is soothing, but a little of his fear runs through it.
“What did the guards tell them?”
“To wait for instruction.”
“Then keep them waiting at the gate while I figure this shit out.”
The sound of heels clicking on wood tells me Morgan is pacing, and she is obviously making a call as she says suddenly, “It’s Morgan. We are under attack?”
There’s a pause.
“Ravera mafia.”
Another pause, and then she screams, “I know that. What are you going to do about it?”
She huffs in frustration.
“Fine, five hours, but don’t hang around. I may be dead when you get here.”
Tiffany’s eyes widen. “Who did she call?”
“The Sorcusi mafia I’m guessing.”
I hold up my hand as Morgan’s smooth tones fill the room.
“Felipe. It’s good to hear your voice. There is a small problem I was hoping you could help me with.”
Once again, silence, and then she laughs softly. “Of course. The usual terms and a little more for the short notice.”
I hold my breath because I’m guessing she is referring to Felipe Monza. A cool assassin who prefers to fly low under the radar. If he is her white horse, then the costs must be high, meaning Morgan believes she has the means to pay him. Interesting.
I pull out my phone and type a message to my brothers.
Morgan knows it’s a trap. She’s stalling you at the gate and has called in the Monza mafia. Her family is also on their way, eta five hours.
Morgan’s cruel laugh fills the room as she almost cackles, “I may have another card to play.”
The tension increases in the room.
“What card?”
Raphael’s tone is cold and pissed as fuck and I’m guessing he never signed up for a full-scale mafia war.
“Perhaps it’s time to play our trump card, darling.”
She falls silent, and the next time she speaks, it changes everything.
“Charlotte. Are still in place in The Order of The Holy Mother of God?”
Silence, then, “Perfect. I’m calling it in. Take Sister Agatha Maria to the Zurich house and restrain her. Wait for my instructions.”
Tiffany stares at me in horror, and I dash out another text to the group.
Nico, Sister Agatha, is in danger. They’re taking her to Enrico’s house in Zurich. They have someone inside the convent.
“Joseph.”
Tiffany’s eyes fill with tears, and I pull out my phone. “I’ll try to buy her some time.”
The phone rings and my mother says softly, “Joseph, how …”
“Mom, there is no time. Call Sister Agatha and tell her to hide. She is in danger, and it’s from someone inside the convent.”
She says nothing and cuts the call and once again I’m grateful for her experience. She has lived in this world long enough not to question, and as we wait for events out of our control to play out, it’s more important than ever to take Morgan out before shit really gets real.