8. Adriano
Chapter eight
Adriano
My fists are meant for jaws and throats, to make men understand where they stand and who owns the ground beneath their feet.
Serving a mafia princess wasn’t in the plan when I was pulled out of the rubble of death and swore to hunt down the bloodline of all the men involved.
Still, I’m walking around playing guard and running errands instead of lurking in the shadows of my prey, harvesting their souls like the grim reaper.
She asked me to fucking get her towels, for God’s sake!
Scowling at the pool house attendant who’s busy applying lip gloss, I slam my hand down on the counter.
“There should be at least one fucking towel you can find.”
Her eyes widen as the tube drops from her hand. She chuckles nervously, excuses herself, and disappears into a corner.
I’ve been standing here for close to seven minutes, waiting for fresh towels because this fucking pool house decided they’re out of fresh towels and the supplier is still on the way.
Fuck knows why Elena made us come all the way to this private pool instead of simply using their own fucking huge pool at the mansion.
My phone buzzes twice. Picking it out of my pocket, my brows knit as I scan the content of the text. It’s from Francesco, my source, and the man who’s been my eyes and ears for the past four years.
FRANCESCO: Capo, Newark’s been approved.
A slow smile tugs at my lips. The warehouse we’ve been aiming to purchase as our depot and meeting place has finally been sold to us. It’s good news, but seeing as my father’s contingency fund, which we used to secure the place, is depleting, we have to move on to the next stage fast.
ME: Good.
FRANCESCO: Men and ammo are set for Friday. We await your orders, Capo.
I nod, fingers already typing more instructions when the attendant returns.
“I’m sorry, sir, b-but there are no spare towels at all. I promise it won’t be much longer. Our supplier should be here any moment. I am so sorry for the wait.”
I grunt in response, but she’s already scurrying away.
I’m momentarily distracted when my phone vibrates. It’s Elena. I watch it ring for a while because I’m annoyed, then I pick up.
“What?” I snap as I snatch up the phone, my finger swiping the screen.
“Adrian…” Her voice falters, like she’s holding something back? Is she…crying? “I-I ne…need you. Please…” Then the call ends.
Something snaps white and hot inside me. I sprint out of the pool house.
What the hell could have happened between the time I left her doing laps at the pool and now? I’ve barely been gone for ten minutes.
It’s been a week since she received that death threat from an anonymous number, and security has been tighter.
If anything were to happen to Elena… shit.
Besides the fact that Enzo would have my head on a stake, I can’t bear the thought of delivering her so easily into the hands of whoever wants her dead.
Her throat is mine alone to slit. I log into my tracker app immediately to confirm she’s still where I left her—at the pool. And she’s still there.
Breaking into a full sprint, I pick up my pace through the hallways, my pulse racing even faster than my legs.
I push past some workers and hurry toward the pool when the strong stench of chlorine almost stops me dead. Fuck. She’s allergic to chlorine!
My breath seizes momentarily when I finally see her. Her arms are thrashing wildly around her, her mouth gasping for air whenever her face breaks the surface.
Dragging my jacket off, I dive straight in, grabbing her by the midsection and pulling her out onto the pavement. My hands press down on her chest in hard, steady pumps.
“Elena!” I call out, watching her eyes for any form of reaction, but there’s none. “Come on… come on!”
Without hesitation, I press my lips to hers in an attempt to do CPR and, as I blow air into her lungs, she stirs awake, coughing out a large amount of water.
She groans as I scoop up her weak body, grab her phone beside the pool, and run to the exit. How the hell did this happen? Whoever doused the pool must have been watching her… watching us.
Shit, they knew I was going to leave for a few minutes, and they took advantage of it.
I take a glance at her pale face beside me. She’s soaked to the bone, her blonde hair plastered to her face, her eye makeup streaked down her cheeks in black lines.
There’s no scratch or sign of struggle anywhere, which tells me she didn’t interact with whoever the bastard is. Son of a bitch!
A vile thought rises up my throat. I let this happen; I did this to her. The thought of having one Rossi down should give me immense pleasure, but it shouldn’t be her. Not yet. I’d find whoever did this and make the bastard pay.
I carry her straight to the SUV and slam my foot down on the accelerator as I dial Lorenzo.
“Boss, Elena’s in trouble. Call the doctor.”
The call ends, and seconds later, Enzo calls.
“Che cazzo sta succedendo a Elena (What the fuck’s going on with Elena)!?”
“Era un’altra minaccia, Capo (It was another threat, Boss).”
“Fuck!”
***
The entire team is seated when I arrive at Enzo’s office after leaving Elena with the doctor.
I can tell from the hushed silence and glaring eyes that not a single one of them is impressed with me today. But they’re the least of my worries.
“Dov’eri cazzo quando qualcuno ha cercato di ucciderla (Where the fuck were you when they made an attempt on her life)?” Enzo snarls as soon as he sets eyes on me, grabbing my collar. I resist the urge to slam my fist into his face.
“Rispondi alla dannata domanda (Answer the damn question),” Lorenzo snaps behind him.
My hands slip into my pockets. “I responded immediately when she called. She insisted I grab her fresh towels. And the extra security outside the pool house insisted they saw no one come in.”
“I’ve arranged for the men to be questioned. And the CCTV around the house to be checked. Either the men are lying or an inside person did it.”
Enzo drops his hand away from me, running it through his graying hair. “Perdere un affare importante e poi questo (Losing a major deal and then this). è l’ultima cosa di cui ho cazzo bisogno in questo momento (This is the last fucking thing I need right now).”
Good to see the deal with Hale is taking a toll on him. I’m sure by now he and the men are trying to find the culprit behind the swapped jars. And he is currently on bad terms with his main supplier, seeing as he was the first one who got shot.
I slump into a seat at the farthest end of the bench while Enzo settles back in his own chair.
“This is the second attempt. Elena’s going to wind up dead very soon if we don’t find out who the fuck wants her dead, and why.” Enzo’s gaze shifts to mine as he wraps a joint.
Heck, I could use one of those.
“Lorenzo!” The second-in-command rises to his feet, passing a couple of sheets around.
“That’s a comprehensive list of everything we discussed last meeting.
Everyone who’s ever held a grudge against Elena since she was born.
Study it.” Enzo takes a sharp pull from the joint, releasing smoke through his mouth and nostrils.
He’d called a team meeting a couple of days ago, where we brainstormed the possible enemies behind these attacks. Both his and hers.
All Enzo’s enemies have motives, but there’s no solid evidence linking any one of them to the threats, and the men who attacked her have remained a dead end since.
“I want ideas on how we can find this person, and I want them now!” Enzo barks.
My eyes rove through the list, brows knitting together at the names and personalities of the people who could be her attempted murderer.
My eyes catch something. Camila Drey. Elena did say she’s jealous of her business’s growth. But even at that, this list is whack. None of these people here has a real motive against Elena.
Camila is already topping the business charts effortlessly; she may be jealous, but she wouldn’t make those desperate attempts.
A hand shoots up from amongst us. Enzo nods at the burly man who rises to his feet. “Capo, I suggest surveillance on all these people listed here...”
“Surveillance gave you that list,” Enzo snaps, cutting him off. “Did you even look at it? Questi scoreggiano e i nostri lo registrano (They fucking fart and it’s jotted)! Siediti prima che ti metta un proiettile in testa (Sit your ass down before I put a bullet through your head)!”
Another hand goes up.
“We need to increase security around Miss Elena. Snipers should be stationed at strategic locations throughout the city so one wrong movement in her direction and the fucker’s dead.”
A couple of heads nod in agreement. Not mine. That’s a waste of manpower and resources. Plus, innocent people could get hurt. What happens when she has an innocent brawl with a friend?
“E tu (What about you), Adrian?” I clench my jaw at the sound of my name. I rise to my feet immediately, my mind reeling for a suggestion.
“You’re her personal bodyguard. What way have you thought of to protect your mistress?”
I hate how he reduces me to simply protecting my mistress. Still, I clear my throat.
“Forse possiamo fingere la morte della signorina Elena (Perhaps we can fake Miss Elena’s death). In questo modo chiunque voglia ucciderla penserà che sia già morta e la lascerà in pace (That way whoever wants to kill her will think she’s already dead and leave her alone).”
I know that’s a shitty suggestion. The only good one would be for her to hide until all of this is over, but that’d mean I have to leave, too… which doesn’t work for me and my plans.
I stare at the ground blankly as if I can’t tell that all eyes in the room have turned toward me. Enzo waves me back to my seat, his face blank. I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“Capo.” Lorenzo bows his head slightly to Enzo, who nods. “Penso che dovrebbe andarsene (I think she should go away).”
My head snaps up. Shit.
“Andarsene (Go away)?” Enzo repeats, as if tasting the idea before processing it.
“Sì, Capo (Yes, Boss). We need to take her somewhere far away where absolutely no one would know she exists.”
“E a quale scopo (And to what end)?” Enzo sets the stub of his joint on an ashtray.
“So we can catch who’s looking for her. We’ll have a random blonde play Elena for as long as it takes to draw them out. Then when we have them within our grasp, we bring her back to witness the death of the psychopaths who tried to kill her.”
Enzo rubs his chin absentmindedly. It’s obvious that he’s seriously considering the option. Fuck.
“Tutti voi, lasciateci (All of you, leave us),” Enzo growls. We all rise to our feet, bowing deeply to him.
The men start to file out one after the other. I follow suit when Enzo’s voice stops me. “Non tu (Not you), Adrian. Siediti (Sit down).”
When every single man has filed out, Lorenzo turns the lock.
“I think we should let her go to China,” Enzo begins. “I have some contacts there who’d look after her with their lives.”
“Cina (China)…” Lorenzo sighs. “Don, isn’t that going to affect her brand? She couldn’t handle moving from New Jersey to Manhattan. How could she handle moving to China?”
Enzo shakes his head. “Where else do you suggest then?”
“We have an isolated condo in Montana. She could stay out there in the mountains until we get a hold of those maniacs.”
“I know Elena like the back of my hand. She’s a city girl through and through—she’d go crazy locked away in the wilderness. We’ll take her to New Orleans instead,” Enzo says.
He suddenly turns to me, a vague expression on his face. “Preparati (Get ready). You leave for New Orleans with Elena as soon as she can get on her feet.”