Resurrection (The Vendetta Series Book 1)

by Kris Anne Dean

  We walked through the door and into a large room where five felt tables were setup with dealers standing behind them. A group of rich businessmen sat bellied up to the tables, smoking and drinking with small heaps of poker chips in front of them. Men, I recognized as security guards for the bar stood around the perimeter of the room. We crossed to one man who circled the tables, watching the players and dealers. He pushed his long wavy bronze hair back off his strong forehead highlighting his high cheekbones and arctic blue eyes, a close trimmed mustache and goatee covered his square jaw. The man was tall and handsome with rippled muscles bulging under the tight fitted black t-shirt, leather jacket and dark jeans that gathered against his waist emphasizing the gun he had concealed at his side.

  “Brie, I would like you to meet Cal. He just moved here and is heading up the security team. I thought the two of you might hit it off.”

  His eyes strolled over my body and locked onto mine with a smile that made me wet in an instant. “Nice to meet you, Brie. As you can see, we have ourselves a friendly poker game here. Would you like to watch?”

  “Sure.”

  We stood behind a group of players and watched the action. The cards flew out of the dealer’s hand as the players gathered them and flipped thousands of dollars’ worth of chips into the center of the table. One player slammed his fist against the table and swore when the game ended with a win for the house and the dealer racked in ten grand worth of his chips.

  “Friendly, huh?” I laughed.

  “Well as friendly as you can be in a High-Stakes game. There’s a five thousand dollar buy in.”

  We watched the dealer shuffle her deck and deal another round. I watched as the man on the far left studied the cards the dealer dealt him. He wasn’t engaged in conversation and hadn’t touched his drink. His body was still except for the tapping of his fingers. A two of spades was dealt to the man on the far right, a six went to the next seat and a king flew out of the dealer’s hand to the next man. Another card was dealt to him, it was a four and his fingers tapped again. The cards continued to fly across the table completing their hands with him receiving an eight. His fingers tapped against his wrist and he doubled his bet.

  I turned my head towards Cal’s ear and whispered, “He’s cheating.”

  He lowered his eyes to mine with a questioning look and glanced toward the table and then back at me. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive,” I told him.

  His face turned dark as he strolled around the table and grabbed the man, forcing him back into his seat. The man raised his hand to pull Cal’s away from his throat and his sleeve sild up his arm. A small black device slipped loose from under his sleeve and fell off his wrist. The other players sat still, not batting an eye as Cal yanked the man from his chair and another security guard helped him drag the man into the next room. “Are you fucking stupid, cheating at one of Vincent’s games? A man can get his fingers broke for pulling this shit.”

  Vinny crossed over to the table and calmed the crowd by giving them all a yellow chip on the house. He collected the man’s chips and slid a few toward the dealer.

  “How did you know he was cheating?” Vinny asked as he handed the boxed up chips to another man guarding a metal box.

  “Vinny, I’m a math major and a skilled poker player. The odds didn’t favor a hand stacked with aces and eights.”

  “I knew I liked you, sweetheart. They don’t call it a dead man’s hand for no reason.”

  Angelo tucked an envelope into the lining pocket of his suit jacket and shook Ian’s hand. As the men strode back to us, I tucked the lip gloss tube into my purse. We said our goodbyes, and I waited for them to make their move, now that money had exchanged hands. We walked back to the car in silence. As we drove back to the estate, I kept my eyes on the side view mirrors watching for flashing lights.

  “You seem distracted, Bella, what’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” My sweating hands clenched my purse until he ripped it from my hands.

  He tipped it upside down shaking its contents onto the center console. With one hand on the steering wheel he dug through it with the other. “What did she give you, Bella?”

  “Lipstick. She sells cosmetics. Angelo, it was nothing I swear. Look it’s right here.” I held it up in my trembling fingers, trying to hide the panic lacing my voice.

  He steered the car through the gates of the estate and put it in park. He grabbed the tube from my hand and threw it back at me. I gathered everything together and shoved it back into my purse as he circled the car to open my door. When I climbed out, he slammed my back against the door, towering over me. Darkness flashed in his eyes as he lowered his face towards mine. His lips pressed hard against mine, demanding control as his fingers tugged at the back of my head. I gasped for air when he pulled away, “I have work to do, sleep in your own room tonight.”

  Alone in my room, I toyed with the lip gloss tube while pondering the stark reality before me. I sank under the weight of the possibility of a way out of this nightmare. Lanah’s words played in my head on constant repeat. “When he’s done with you,” echoed through my numbing brain and dread crept over me. Angelo had an incessant need to own, could he simply discard his toys when he grew bored with them? I paced the floor in endless contemplation. “Your Freedom,” I longed for nothing more but if he caught me, there was nothing to stop him from killing me. Angelo had no moral boundaries.

  Desperate for clarity I slipped from my room in search of liquid courage. I froze in place, my bare feet tingling on the cold marble floor, tucked into the shadows as I glimpsed Angelo entering Ava’s room. A twinge of jealousy shivered my body as I watched her fall into his arms and the door close behind them. Lanah’s words echoed through my head, “When he’s done with you”.

  Chapter 22

  Brie

  Darkness shielded me as I crept my way down the stairs into the foyer. Relying on the moonlight as my only guide since I feared turning on the light would raise suspicion. My heart pounded in my chest, slicing the silence that hung in the air. I poured myself a low-ball glass of whiskey for courage and advanced toward Angelo’s office, hugging the wall to evade being caught. I inched the door open wide enough to squeeze inside and eased it shut behind me. Images of the dying man flashed through my mind as I passed over the floor where he had laid taking his last breath. The desk chair creaked when I sat down and I held my breath. Even the slightest noise could cost me my life if anybody spotted me snooping around. I steadied my breathing and removed the lip-gloss tube from my pocket. I twisted it open, pealed the wiretap from its crevice. I wasn’t sure how to activate it but I prayed someone was listening.

  “If anyone can hear me, I’m in Angelo’s office,” I whispered and secured it to the underside of the desk.

  I powered on the laptop and inserted the flash drive. A prompt appeared to enter the password, but I had to guess. I typed Bella… locked, I typed Mia Bella… still locked. I snooped around the desk hoping to find a clue to his password, but all I discovered was a locked drawer. I searched through the things on top looking for a key, recalling the night he swept it clear and pinned me under his body. I had expected him to fuck me right there on the desk as a punishment for defying him. A part of me feared him but another part wanted him too. I shook the image from my mind, forcing myself to concentrate. I had been his wife for less than two days and he was upstairs fucking his assistant. I was nothing more than a conquest for him and I couldn’t forget how he took away everyone I cared about to claim me.

  There had to be something I could use to barter for my freedom and extract my revenge. My clammy fingers tightened around the cold metal letter opener I found to jimmy open the lock. When the drawer opened, I sighed and returned the letter opener to its place, being mindful not to disturb anything. I browsed the files in the drawer until I noticed one that captured my attention; a plain manila folder with a white label and black print, the name Bella typed on it.

  I laid it on the des
k and opened it. Inside I discovered a dozen surveillance photos. My pulse sped up as my mind fixated on the pictures. I flipped through them one by one. There were pictures of my friends and family. There were pictures of me at school and some of me entering and leaving Birra Tavern. As I stared at the images it all fell into place, Angelo had been stalking me for years, long before the summer in Miami. I repelled with horror as my eyes lingered over the last image… Cal. Shivers coursed down my body as I studied Cal’s pale face and the pool of blood saturating his shirt as he laid on the floor. I dropped the picture from my trembling hand and flipped it over forcing it from my mind. As tears overflowed my eyes I continued through the file. An article from the Boston Times reporting Cal’s death. Angelo had given me the same article, rolled up alongside my breakfast plate one morning. The date forever ingrained in my mind, June 15th. Another newspaper article followed from the Connecticut Post. In black and white print, it read… An early morning fire on Saturday June 15th left two dead. Brie Morgan, age 22 and Ellen Morgan age 63.

  I closed the folder and turned my attention back to the laptop. My fingers trembled as they pecked at the keys… 0615… unlocked.

  Unsure what I was searching for I dragged all the files to the flash drive. I had lost track of time and needed to hurry before someone found me. I waited as the files transferred and noted a sequence of substantial withdrawals from one bank account corresponding to several deposits into offshore accounts, an obvious sign of money laundering. I didn’t have time to focus on the details, the Feds would have a team to sift through the vast amount of data. When the files finished transferring, I withdrew the flash drive and slid it back into the tube. I leaned over and whispered into the bug, “I got it, now what?”

  I realized they couldn’t answer but hoped they heard me. I had no idea who to trust and passing the information into the wrong hands would not end well.

  I opened the web browser to email the one man I could think of that might help me when shadows from under the door caught my attention. I slid the lip gloss tube into my pocket and powered down the laptop. The door opened, and I struggled to cover the file when Emilio entered and closed the door behind him. He lifted his finger to his lips to warn me to be silent and sat across from me. My heart thumped hard against my chest and my hands shook. We remained in the dark; the silence filling the space between us for several long moments.

  Our eyes followed each other’s movements. “Put everything back exactly how you found it and give me the flash drive.”

  “What flash drive?”

  “We don’t have time for games, hand it over.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Brie, he could be back any moment and if he catches us in here, it won’t matter what you found because we will both be dead. Now do what I’m telling you and fast.” And there it was, no one in this house ever called me by my name. Emilio the man tasked with being my babysitter since I attempted to ditch Ava, was the man I had needed to find.

  I passed him the hidden flash drive and grinned as he laughed under his breath. “Thanks Lanah, I’ll be a real bad ass carrying around lipstick in my pocket. I’ll make the drop in the morning.”

  Reluctantly, I returned the file to the drawer.

  “Someone’s coming hide,” he warned.

  I folded myself into the deep kick space under the desk and drew the chair in behind me as Angelo opened the door. Peering out from the groove above the modesty panel I saw Angelo draw his revolver from the waistband of his pants and point it at Emilio.

  “What are you doing in here?” His tone was cold and detached.

  “Looking for you, Boss?”

  Angelo’s eyes scanned the office, when his gaze dropped to the low-ball glass, half drank, on the edge of the desk, he fired.

  I slapped my hand over my mouth to muffle the scream that threatened to escape as I watched Emilio crumble to the floor. Blood rushed from the gaping wound in his chest, his eyes pleading with me to remain hidden. Angelo stalked toward the desk and picked up the glass.

  Franco barreled through the door, “Fuck Boss, what happened?” he asked taking in the sight of Emilio bleeding to death on the floor.

  “Never mind.” Franco shook his head. “I’ll deal with this. You’re needed at the warehouse. Lorenzo just checked in and claimed someone swiped the rides.”

  “What the fuck do you mean, someone stole from me?” he yelled, tossing the glass against the wall. Shards of glass smashed to the floor as the whiskey dripped down the wall.

  “Leave him there. Pull everyone from their positions and have them meet us at the warehouse immediately.”

  I remained trembling in my hiding spot long after Angelo shut the door. I waited, listening to the voices outside the door until there was no more sound.

  “He’s dead. Emilio’s dead,” I cried into the bug before crawling out from under the desk.

  With room to move I stood straightening the cramped muscles in my back. I rubbed the blood splatter from my face and inhaled a deep breath as I tiptoed around the desk. A scream burst from my quivering lips as cold fingers wrapped around my ankle spreading its chill across my skin.

  “Run,” the strangled command came as his last breath wheezed from his lungs.

  I pried his lifeless hand off my ankle and folded his arm onto his chest. Running my hands over his broad frame and reaching into his pockets I retrieved the flash drive, a set of keys and a blood-soaked piece of scrap paper and crammed them into my pocket. I rose from his body and turned toward the cabinet on the wall. I drew back the door and rotated the dial, left 15, right 23, left 38 and let out a sigh of relief when the safe opened. I recovered the gun with my fingerprints and tucked it into the waistline of my pants, and a bound stack of fresh one hundred-dollar bills into my other pocket. A pile of envelopes caught my eye; in one I found a passport and driver’s license issued to Bella Deluca. In another larger envelope was a blurred picture from an intermittent security camera that looked like someone had taken it from a distance. It drew me to it instantly. I rubbed my eyes suspicious of the image before me. I dropped the ID’s into the larger envelope and wedged it between the gun and my back, untucking my blouse to hide the bulge. I locked the safe and the cabinet and eased opened the door coming face to face with the one fucking my lying, murdering, blackmailing husband.

  Her eyes looked through me falling to the lifeless body on the floor and back to my blood-streaked face. “If you hurry, you can pack a bag and get out of here before anybody gets back.”

  I glared at her in disbelieve. “Are you serious? Why would you help me now?”

  “Because you were right, I chose this life, you didn’t. He told me you sacrificed your freedom for mine. Now it’s my turn to repay the favor.”

  “I can’t let you do that. He’s out his mind, what if he kills you this time?”

  “He won’t, he trusts me. I’ll tell him you knocked me out and when I came to you were gone, but hurry.”

  I sprinted up the stairs to my room and yanked open the closet door. I emptied the stolen items from my pockets and placed them on the dresser. I pulled my backpack down off the top shelf and stuffed everything inside. I stripped from my bloody clothes and changed into a pair of black pants, a black blouse and my old riding boots. I opened the dresser drawers and shoved in whatever I could grab.

  By the time I made it back down stairs the house was empty. I glanced at the alarm panel, a green light blinked unarmed. I reached out and turned the knob. I opened the door and breathed in my freedom, pausing for one last glance and whispered, “Thank you.” although I doubted Ava had heard me.

  I stayed in the shadows of the house, my face turned away from the cameras and clicked the key fob to find Emilio's car. When the lights flashed, I climbed inside a dark blue Chevrolet Impala V6, started the engine and drove through the gates, flicking the bird in the rear-view mirror as I turned onto the street and sped away.

  Chapter 23

 
; Angelo

  Agent Conroy might have been the one feeding information to the feds but killing him had not stopped the hits from coming. There was another traitor in my crew. Someone on the inside was spilling secrets and trying to undercut my operations. Besides Franco, I gave no one crew member all the information on the constant moving parts of my operation. Since my return from Italy, I have been working from the estate and keeping my men close. It’s harder for the feds to get a warrant for a private residence and this setup allowed me to keep eyes on Bella and my crew. When I entered my office and saw Emilio alone in the dark, I knew he wasn’t looking for me. One glance around the room told me all I needed to know. He shifted my laptop to the right, and a half drank glass of whiskey was still sweating on the far edge of my desk. He sat in my fucking chair. I raised my gun and shot without hesitation but I couldn’t shake the nagging sensation in the pit of my stomach. Emilio was new to my crew, recommended by Gino and my men haven’t been able to find him. No one was claiming credit for the attempted hit the other night and now someone stole my fleet one day before shipment. A team of eight vetted car thieves have been working for over a month to secure the required luxury vehicles the buyer requested. This hit was enough to cripple my operation.

  Franco and I pulled into the warehouse parking lot followed by Tony, Johnny and Leo in a second car. I didn’t bother to pull around back this time. My shell corporation, Angel Enterprises, owned the warehouse in order to appear legit but there was no longer a point of hiding my affiliation. This was no random heist; this was a calculated hit with me as the target.

  I lifted the door and found an empty bay. The canvas covers used to protect the paint jobs during shipment laid on the oil stained concrete floor. Someone had ransacked the small office to the right, the desk drawers and papers littered the floor. To my left Lorenzo stood under Three Finger Tommy strewn up in chains.