14. Adriano
Chapter fourteen
Adriano
I couldn’t stand the sight of her on her knees.
I’ve rehearsed Enzo Marcini’s death countless times in my head. He’d be on his fucking knees before me, defeat registered in his eyes while I stood over him, a gun pointed to his head before blowing his brains out.
She was never in the picture. She shouldn’t even have been there.
I swirl the liquor in my glass, unable to pour it down my mouth because the last few drops have tasted like ash mixed with water.
I should have ended him, maybe. But the fact that there were more people involved in the story changes everything.
Father kept the association and its ordeal a secret, even from me.
And if Enzo is telling the truth, whoever is behind all this was powerful enough to make it all disappear—so much so that no matter how hard I searched, I just couldn’t see anything beyond the Rossi Mafia killing my family.
A secret association with Dean and Valente. This Caughn personality. The ex-commissioner.
Something’s terribly wrong, and I swear to God I’ll find every single one of them and take my revenge.
My mind replays the events of yesterday. As I walked out that door, I didn’t feel the satisfaction I’ve always craved. Partly because now there are too many loose ends for me to tie, and…
I can’t believe I was starting to think you’re a good person. I was starting to trust you… to think there’s a human somewhere beneath that cold facade. I was dead wrong. You’re nothing but a monster.”
Please, Adrian, you’ll…you’ll kill him. He’s the only man who ever cared about me. Please.
I planned to use her… to fuck her and leave her a broken mess. Maybe even kill her. But as she cried and begged for Enzo to be saved, I felt a strange emotion: guilt.
Fuck!
I run a hand through my hair, tugging fiercely. I’ve killed men, done vile things, and not once have I felt guilty. I certainly won’t start now.
Finally taking a swig of the whiskey, I welcome the burn as it sears down my throat. The only thing I feel right now is revenge, and I’ll chase it with my last breath.
While Lorenzo and a large number of the other Rossi men were on the front lines with the Irish, the loyal army I’ve gathered over the years marched into the Rossi mansion and slaughtered the skeleton crew. I lost some men, but we did win the battle.
Enzo’s now lost men, connections, deals, and soon, he’ll sustain a great financial hit.
We still have nothing on Silvio except that he’s a ghost. Fuck, we still don’t even know if he’s the consigliere we’re looking for, but he’s the strongest lead we have.
Dean was exclusive with him. He’s been a ghost so far.
And getting to him seems like trouble. He must be the one.
And if he is, the Rossis will be done for good.
My mind shifts to Don Valente, and a wave of anger courses through me.
My father was many things—powerful, ruthless—but he was never a snitch… or a coward. If he wanted out, it’s because he saw something dangerous. But even then, he wouldn’t have ratted them out.
And that leads me to my next question. What did my father find out that made him tap out of such a lucrative association? Did Dean and Valente know more than my father? Was there something greater at stake? Or was this a case of pure betrayal? And finally, who the fuck is Victor Caughn?
An angry breath leaves my lips. Only one way to find out. Time to pay Don Valente a special visit.
Two raps at my door knock me out of my thoughts. I make my way back to my seat. It feels satisfying to finally take my place as Don in my own estate—the compound I’ve secretly been building for years.
“Enter,” I say as I sit. The door swings open and Francesco marches in, files in hand.
“Capo, abbiamo trovato informazioni su Valente ma… (Boss, we’ve found information on Valente but…)” He sets the bulky file on the desk before me.
“Ma (But)?”
“La sua sicurezza è piuttosto impressionante e i suoi movimenti sono calcolati al secondo (His security detail is quite impressive and his movements are tightly calculated). Potremmo avere problemi ad avvicinarlo (We may have a problem getting close to him).”
“We do not need any more problems, Francesco,” I grit out.
Francesco stiffens but doesn’t say anything. I steeple my fingers on the table, wheels spinning in my head.
His extremely tight security detail tells me he’s either hiding something or scared of something.
Grabbing the file, I flip it open and scan through it, my fingers tightening on the edge of the papers.
“Cosa hai su chi gli è vicino (What do you have on his loved ones)?” I ask without lifting my head.
“Ha due figli (He has two sons). Il più giovane è pesantemente sorvegliato notte e giorno, mentre il maggiore studia in Corea del Sud (The youngest is heavily guarded day and night, while the older one is studying in South Korea).”
My gaze snaps up to him. “Corea del Sud (South Korea)?”
Francesco nods. If Valente is sending his oldest son that far, then he’s definitely living in fear.
“Quindi non ci sono parenti (So there are no other relatives)? Madre, padre, amante (Mother, father, mistress)?”
Francesco shakes his head. “No, Capo.”
I grind my teeth. There has to be some fucking leverage.
“Who handles his deals?”
“Top officials like his second-in-command and head of logistics run all important errands and attend all meetings on his behalf. Valente himself is hardly ever spotted outside his villa in North Shore.”
“I wonder what he’s so afraid of?” Francesco adds.
I shake my head. “Not what. Who?”
A Don has many enemies, I know. But this pattern of paranoia can only mean he’s crossed some seriously dangerous people.
“Getting to his loved ones is pointless. We go for him.” My fingers are flipping through the file frantically now.
Francesco lifts his eyes to mine, then shrugs. “It’s dangerous, but not impossible.”
“You’ve stated here that he leaves his villa every Thursday to visit a Buddhist temple in Manhattan.”
The bastard’s religious. Interesting.
“Do we make the move on him while he’s here in Manhattan?” Francesco asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t want him going missing on my home turf. We’ll take him when he crosses over to Queens. Find out how much security escorts him to the temple. I need every single piece of intel.”
Francesco nods. “Sì, Capo (Yes, Boss).”
I drop the file, my fingers now itching to spill blood. We will catch him unaware, and he’ll answer every single question.
“By the way,” I ask the one question I’ve tried to suppress since yesterday. “Come sta Elena (How’s Elena)?” I’d asked him to follow Elena and give me updates while I returned here.
Now that the construction of my estate is completed, we can continue to meet and run our operations here while I reach out to my father’s business partners and rebuild his old alliances and legal fronts.
He nods, but I don’t miss the flicker of surprise in his eyes. “She’s with Enzo. He’s responding to the in-house treatment.”
Before he says anything, I beat him to it.
“Leave.” I wave him out, and he obliges without hesitation. When the door shuts, my mind begins to spin.
We’ll have just a short window to kidnap Valente. I know he’s going to be heavily guarded. But they don’t call me the silent precursor for nothing.
Adrenaline surges through my veins, and I take another gulp of the whiskey to calm myself. I’ve suppressed the chaos in me for too long.
It’s time to unleash hell.