36. Adriano
Adriano
“ Y ou sure about this?” Luca frowns as he squints through the windshield of the BMW. We’re parked across from a moderately large warehouse down near the airport. “I feel like you’re about to make a lot of enemies.”
“I’m sure.” I glance over at Vittorio. “You got a problem?”
“Hell, no. This is my speed.” He shows me his teeth. “Can’t wait to watch it all burn.”
“Good man.” I push open the door. “Let’s get this done.”
I stride across the parking lot. My Capos follow close behind. We’re armed to the teeth, and my men are both carrying big red gas cans.
The security system was easy to disable. I hired a talented and discreet hacker named Permafrost to take care of it. He claims we have fifteen minutes. That’s plenty of time for what I have planned.
The front door slides open when I push against it.
We step into a comfortable lobby. All the lights are off. I spot several security cameras, but none seem to be working. There’s a single guard sitting at the front desk, looking confused. He stands, hand at his hip. “Hey, what are you?—”
Vittorio shoots him right in the skull. His head snaps back as he falls to the floor. “Just one?” He sounds disappointed. “Boring.”
“The fun’s just starting,” I murmur as we head toward the door the guard was covering. I’m following a map I studied last night, memorizing the twists and turns in this place.
“Creepy as fuck,” Luca mutters when we walk down another narrow hallway. When the security system was alive, there would’ve been scanners and body imagers going crazy to verify our identity. Now it’s all dead and motionless.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark,” Vittorio says with a vicious laugh. “Come on, Luca. This is the most fun we’ve had in a while.”
“Speak for yourself.” Luca grumbles as I push through a door and we step into a massive climate-controlled storage area. “This shit gives me the willies.”
Ahead of us, various glass-encased walls are lined up in perfect rows. The emergency lights are on, casting everything in a hellish red glow.
Hanging on the walls are priceless pieces of art.
I recognize Manet, Degas, Rembrandt, and Picasso. There are also sections for statues, vases, mixed media, and whatever else is worth a small fortune and collected by rich fucks.
“Douse it all,” I tell them.
“Gladly.” Luca starts spilling his can.
“Seriously, what’s so creepy about this?” Vittorio presses.
“It’s all these goddamn faces.” Luca splashes gas onto a painting of some dead rich guy. “They’re just fucking staring at me.”
“God, you’re such a soft little baby.”
“Fuck off, Vittorio, or I’ll light you up too.”
“Stop bickering,” I order them. “Split up. I want it all gone.”
We get to work in earnest. There are thousands of artworks in this place, all stored, catalogued, and authenticated by a single entity. They don’t go by this name, but I know who they really are.
Gray Wolf.
Gasoline covers everything. I leave long lines of it from wall to wall, section to section. I ruin million-dollar paintings. Priceless art by old masters. Works that can never be replaced. All are at my mercy.
I think of Demir. His gun smashing into Lucy’s head. I see it over and over. I see the bruises around her neck. The fear in her eyes.
If I feel bad for destroying important historical artifacts, the memory of my wife in pain erases any small spark of pity.
I’m out of gas in ten minutes. We meet back toward the front, tossing our cans onto the floor. Not like anyone will wonder what happened here. Luca frowns, arms crossed.
“You know what’ll happen now, right?”
I flick open a Zippo. The flame glows softly in my hand. Vittorio watches it almost eagerly. He licks his lips, the crazy bastard.
“They’ll try to blame me.” I stare at the artworks. The investments of all the wealthy elites in the city. “But this is Demir’s fault. Gray Wolf was supposed to protect this place. They set up an impenetrable fortress, but they relied too much on technology. And technology can be disabled.”
“Should’ve used more guards.” Vittorio grins like a hungry vampire. “Then there would’ve been some blood.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Luca says, shaking his head and ignoring Vittorio. “But they’ll know it was you. You’re burning all your bridges, Adriano. Are you sure about this? You worked hard to ingratiate yourself with the rich fuckers by getting married. Now you’re turning it all into smoke.”
“I thought that’s what I wanted. A connection to high society. Political allies. Industry friends.” I step forward and toss the lighter. It spins in the air and hits the floor, bouncing slightly, before the flame catches some gasoline and the fire starts. “But now I realize all I want is Lucy.”
Row after row goes up as the fire spreads rapidly.
We get out of there. Vittorio hangs back, watching the longest, but eventually the flames get too hot even for him.
Smoke billows out as oil paintings hundreds of years old are destroyed.
It’s a glorious hellscape, all that money getting incinerated.
Elation runs through me, and I can’t help but grin like a maniac as we step out into the night together.
The warehouse burns.
Maybe the fire department will get here in time. Some of that priceless art could survive.
But I know what I’ve just done.
I declared war on the whole fucking city.
Let those rich bastards choose sides. Let them all turn against me if that’s what they want.
I’ll rip them to fucking shreds.
And in the end, Demir will kneel before me and beg for mercy.
I’ll show him nothing but pain and death.