Chapter 6
RAVAGER
You’re the reason I’ll never feel safe again.
“I want a date, Iannelli,” Don Giambrone of the Las Vegas Italian mafia croaked.
A harsh thud sounded through the phone line.
“No more pushing it back. I gave you time to grieve out of respect for your father. That ends today. I’ll be walking my daughter down that aisle by the end of this year.
I don’t care how you do it. I don’t care how much it costs.
But you will put a ring on her finger in the next six months, or I swear you’ll regret it. ”
A beat of silence broke his tirade.
“Are you done?” I asked. “Good.” He stuttered a protest. “No, it’s my turn now. I suggest you review the contract you signed with Elio. No deadline was ever set, and you’ll not be setting one.”
“Our families—”
“Have only rare ties since I cut off trafficking. I have no problem having even less if you ever make threats or demands of me again.”
“If you break the contract, I’ll make sure every outfit from Vegas to New York cuts you off. See how long you survive when they all know your word and honor are only as strong as a thread.”
“What did I say about threats?”
“The Giambrones and Iannellis will be joined. I’ll have your head if they’re not.”
A double knock on my office door thankfully gaveled the end of this conversation.
“Goodbye, Francesco. Tell Michaela not to wait up.”
“You bastard. I’ll—”
I cut the line and massaged my temples as the door opened.
Mentioning his daughter was in poor taste, but honestly, I didn’t give a shit at this point.
I refused to marry a woman chosen by my father and be joined by law to his business partner who had a hand deep in the same shit that took my sister.
“What do you have for me?” I asked with a steady calm that didn’t match the inferno blazing inside as Vinny strode into my office, two files in hand. I watched his rigid face for tics and tells, my hands clamped around the edges of my desk.
The interrogation two days ago yielded only a vague rumor about the Armenian brotherhood in Hollywood allying itself with the Sahin clan of the Turkish mafia from Los Angeles in order to facilitate human trafficking, and we had yet to make headway.
I only hoped it wasn’t a dead end. I refused to accept another one.
“Spit it out,” I said.
“Got you a meeting.” Vinny tossed the files onto my desk. The manila folders slapped the surface and slid my way. “With Stathis Dimakos. In two nights at a scrap yard just outside Los Angeles.”
I slowly released my breath. “What does he want?”
“Money and the condition you come in person. Alone.”
I snickered. “Amusing.”
“He approached me,” Vinny added. Such proactive behavior in an uninvested third party rarely boasted good tidings.
“And this is?” I opened the first file. The deed to the property of one of my competitor’s businesses, already filed in my name, stared back at me.
“Proof of goodwill, he called it.”
“More like a bribe.” I shoved the file away. This Stathis Dimakos was far too invested in making me show up. “The Greeks are known to keep a close eye on the Turks. If he can confirm what the biker told us, we may finally have a lead.”
“Or it could be a trap.”
“With this as bait, it definitely is, but I’m hoping it’s both. Stathis Dimakos…why do I know that name?”
“He’s Ilias Dimakos’ cousin.” The man headed the Greek mafia in Los Angeles. “Older brother to Alastor Dimakos, killed last year.”
“Ah.”
I tapped my fingers against my desk. This was about a blood feud then.
Another little memento from my late father.
That explained Stathis’ eagerness to meet.
No matter what information the Dimakos clan shared, this wasn’t going to be a simple meet-and-greet, not after my father killed his brother.
I doubted Stathis knew the little secret my father’s private records hid, the truth behind his brother’s death.
“Plan for ten men, none with happy trigger fingers. Place half at high points, the rest spread throughout.”
“Only ten?”
“We won’t need more.”
“And if the rest of the Dimakos clan lies in wait?”
“They won’t. He’s acting alone.”
Vinny’s dark gaze swept over my face and posture for some sign I was bluffing. “What do you know?”
I leaned forward. “Whatever Stathis has planned, his cousin has no idea.”
“You’re certain, boss?”
“Absolutely.” I pulled the property deed free. “I’d even venture to say Ilias Dimakos is going to be quite upset with his cousin when he finds out what Stathis just gifted me.”
“Is it worth attending?”
Probably not, but I refused to voice that thought.
My fingers grazed over the dents and small cracks on my desk surface, the ones I had created with my fists in a fit of rage months ago.
They were a reminder of how fragile my grip on sanity was after almost nine months of searching for my sister.
I had tried everything since she disappeared.
I bribed. I threatened. I tortured. I killed.
I took over the famiglia. I found and dismantled three human trafficking rings in the US.
My sister wasn’t with any. None of the other victims remembered her.
None of the ringleaders reacted to her photo.
“We got something on your mystery letters,” Vinny said after a long break of silence.
My gaze snapped to the second manila folder, not particularly caring about its contents. I needed a distraction. Something, anything, at this point. This stalker was as good an outlet as any other.
“Tell me,” I said, straightening.
“The letters are sent by an Ainsley Willow Burch. Seems she switches post offices each month, but she’s on camera at each. Travels by bus as her preferred mode of transportation but switches up the routes each month.”
I scoffed at the poor attempt to evade detection. “What do we know about her?”
“Young, orphaned. Family used to be well-off. A family of doctors until they died in a car crash five years ago. Brother died in the shooting.”
“The shooting?”
“Elio’s.”
My brows rose. “She’s of the life, then?”
“Nah, her brother though…of a sort.” Vinny tapped two fingers on the unopened file. “It’s all there.”
“Give me the rundown.”
Vinny sighed as if inconvenienced. “Noah Burch, studied medicine for a little over two years between Harvard and UCSF before he dropped out. Held a few jobs to support his sister for the next two years, but they were living outside their means. After the banks threatened to foreclose on their house, he took a job as a runner for the famiglia a couple of months before the shooting.”
“We hired him?”
Vinny shrugged and leaned back in the wing chair. “Spoke to Antonio. One of his men remembered a scrawny guy begging for some work. They thought he might be a cop until he pissed himself when they put a gun to his head.”
“How the fuck did that lead to a hire?”
“That was the day Dante got shot. Seems it was a situation of right time, right place.”
“Dante lived as I remember it.” The man was loyal to a fault, one of my uncle’s best soldiers.
“Yeah, well, here’s the kicker. This Burch guy pulled out the bullet and stitched him up without hesitation. Just dove right in, even though he said he’d had no practical training. Old man Elio was there, and Antonio said he looked impressed. You remember how difficult that was.”
I huffed in agreement.
“So the old boss gave him work, but get this. Elio didn’t give him nothing doc related. Instead, he had him do several stunts to and fro with the Hell’s Outlaws.”
I sat up. “But he’s dead?”
“As dead as the maker ever intended.”
I scratched at the corner of my lips. “This sister, Ms. Burch…”
“Your little stalker?” Vinny restated. “I don’t think we need to worry about Ms. Burch. As far as research shows, her stretch in the life died with her brother. No severance package, no contact, nothing.”
“He might have told her something. This could be the lead we need.”
I swiveled my chair around and stood up, facing the bay windows that overlooked the crowded homes and estates in this corner of San Francisco.
The setting sunlight glimmered off the crystal blue of the Bay.
I twisted my neck around to relieve some stiffness.
Two leads in as many days. We were finally getting closer to bringing Persetta home.
I could feel it. And when she came back, no expense would be spared—doctors, care, aids—whatever she needed, she was going to have it.
I imagined what Persetta would think of my home here.
There was more than enough space for her should she choose to live with me.
No bad memories here. I sold the one we grew up in, in Pacific Heights, but this was still the city where our father betrayed her.
Perhaps I would settle in more at my Santa Rosa estate once she was found.
The vast vineyards and sprawling hills were probably going to be better than a city of people for her state of mind.
“Renzo, this…I doubt it. This girl is in no situation to—”
“Bring her in.” I cut him off, focused on the view. “Have the Santa Rosa estate cleaned up for its incoming guest. Whatever Ms. Burch knows, I want it out of her before tomorrow night.”
“Renzo, you’re not listening. She—”
“That was an order.” I turned to glare at him.
“Fine. You’re the boss. But between you and me”—Vinny massaged the bridge of his nose and rose—“I think you’ll regret bringing Ms. Burch in, and when you do, I’m going to say I told you so.”
“I won’t.”
“We’ll see, but I have to say something as your friend.
I know you miss Persetta, and we all want to help, but she wouldn’t want you compromising who you are for her sake.
We came together twelve years ago because of your values.
So read the file. Get to know Ms. Burch before you consider breaking them. ”
The moment the door to my office snicked shut, my mind was already focused on my next order of business.