Jillian’s shrill scream was reduced to a pained whimper.
My heart stopped beating. My lungs stopped doing their job, not a molecule of oxygen moved through them. Time stopped ticking. The world stopped turning.
I saw red…dark red blood pooling on the floor under her.
My own blood ran cold. Like ice flowing through my veins.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a couple of Lorenzo’s men rush out the back door, quickly followed by my men. Only my immediate team was left standing inside the building. The Sanfratello soldiers littered the floor, their bodies riddled with holes.
My feet moved without conscious thought, knowing I had to get to her. I had to save her. Lorenzo’s eyes flew open wide when he met my murderous gaze. Benny had tackled them to the floor, his thick body covering both Jillian and Lorenzo. Jillian landed on top of Lorenzo, also trapping him in place. He tried to scramble out of the tangle of limbs, but I was much faster and on a mission.
My fingers gripped the back of Benny’s shirt, and I flung him off Jillian like he weighed no more than a feather. Blood covered her shirt, soaking her and the floor under them. With Benny’s weight lifted, Lorenzo was able to scoot back and almost reach a sitting position before I stopped him.
My gun was still in my hand, ready for action with a fresh magazine. I thrust the muzzle into his mouth as far as it would go. His entire body shook with fear, knowing a trigger-happy finger would relieve him of the majority of the back of his head.
“I fucking dare you to move. I dare you to even breathe. Try me, you fucking piece of shit.”
No way would I give him a chance to finish the job. I had to get Jillian out of there. I had to get her to the hospital.
“Jillian, talk to me, baby. Where are you hit?” I ran my free hand over her, pulling her shirt up to locate her wound. Blood was everywhere, but I couldn’t find the source. The more time I spent searching, the faster the blood would pour out of her body until she had none left to lose.
She turned her head, her brows drawn down and the skin around her eyes crinkled in pain. The guttural noises she made sounded like a wounded animal bleating. My heart leaped in my chest—she was still alive. But not for long if I couldn’t locate her injury, stop the bleeding, and get help.
“Jillian! Come on, doll, tell me where you’re hurt. Help me out here.”
She opened her eyes and finally spoke in a broken staccato. “Not. Shot. Winded.” Then she realized Lorenzo was still behind her, and she slid across the floor away from him.
“Whose blood is this, then?” My eyes flew over to where Benny still lay, where I dropped him in my rush to get to Jillian. The front of his shirt was stuck to his skin, soaking wet with his blood. The pallor of his skin was ghostly white.
Carrie dropped to his side. “Hold on, Benny. Help is on the way. Just hold on.” She covered the wound in his chest with her hands, applying pressure to slow the bleeding as much as she could.
“Jillian, are you okay, doll?”
“Yeah, I’m fine now. Benny’s shoulder hit me in the ribs when he took us down, knocked the breath out of me. I felt the gun go off between us, but the shock waves from the bullet were so close, I couldn’t tell which one of us it hit for a minute there.”
“Can you hold this while I help Carrie with Benny?” I inclined my head toward the barrel of my gun still securely rammed down Lorenzo’s throat.
“I’d love to.” She wrapped her fingers around the handle then shoved it a little farther into his mouth. “It’d be a shame if my trigger finger slipped, wouldn’t it?”
I jerked my shirt over my head and covered Carrie’s hands with it. She slipped them out from under the fabric, bunching it up over the wound, and pressed down again. Her worried eyes met mine. “I called our family doctor. He’s on the way, but I’m not sure Benny will last that long.”
“We brought help,” another voice called from the front door of the building.
I jerked my head in that direction and found the Consigliere and the Underboss of the Sanfratello family approaching, their muscled goons at their flanks. Behind them, two men in medical uniforms rushed toward us with a gurney in tow. They knelt beside Benny, assessing his wounds and grabbing medical supplies from the oversized container they brought in. Within seconds, they loaded him onto the stretcher and rushed out the door with him. The siren pierced the early morning hours as the ambulance sped away with my best friend.
The Sanfratello leaders stopped, and I pushed up to my feet to meet them. Whatever end they had in mind, I’d take it standing up like a man.
“Do what you want with me. Just let the ladies leave unharmed.”
“We’re here to collect the confused men who mistakenly followed Lorenzo,” the Underboss said. “Geno has plans for them, if they repent. We’re not interested in you or the ladies. This time.”
More teams of paramedics rushed in, helping the wounded and working quickly to move them out of the office until everyone who was still breathing had been evacuated. When the bosses were satisfied the job was finished, they turned to leave with their goons completely covering their backs.
Lorenzo wasn’t able to speak with my gun shoved halfway down his throat, so he reacted to their departure with loud, pleading noises. The Underboss stopped in the doorway and turned to look at us over his shoulder.
“Lorenzo, you made your bed. Now you have to lie in it. I’m not going to rescue you. Damon knows what will happen if he kills you. But you’re the one who started this. It was your scheme to steal money from the very men who protected you. We don’t tolerate disrespect in this family. As the Boss’s son, you should know that better than anyone.”
He gave me a pointed look before closing the door behind him, leaving us alone in Geno Sanfratello’s business. With Geno’s son left in a precarious state. I knew what message he wanted to send me. Killing a bona fide member of the Sanfratello family, even one as shitty as Lorenzo, would have consequences.
Killing him would be worth whatever they threw at us later.
“Today is just not your day, is it, Lorenzo?” I grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him to his feet.
Jillian stood with us and withdrew the gun from his mouth when she saw Carrie righting an overturned chair. I pushed him into it, causing him to lose his balance and stumble ungracefully as he plopped down on his ass. After locating a broken lamp on the floor, I pulled out the cord and tied his hands to the legs of the chair behind his back.
“He’s all yours, doll.”
2
CHAPTER TWO
Jillian
Finally. Lorenzo was at my mercy, tied to a chair in an all but destroyed office building that belonged to his father. It was almost poetic justice—killing him in his father’s place of business, leaving his bullet-riddled body as a macabre gift for the first unlucky person to walk through the door.
Damon stood beside me, silently giving his support while also acting as my personal bodyguard. The air surrounding him held complete confidence. Nothing about our situation gave him even a moment of hesitation. Carrying out family business came as easily to him as breathing. Had I asked him, he would’ve put a bullet between Lorenzo’s eyes without blinking. We would’ve already been on our way back home—wherever that would be for the day—and we’d never have to speak of it again.
But I wouldn’t ask him to finish what I’d started.
Carrie and I planned to turn Lorenzo’s dead body over to Damon to collect the reward offered on the dark web; that was originally why we set up the whole rouse. She wanted to prove herself to the family, and I did as well, but in my own way. She once asked me if I was sure I wanted to kill Lorenzo, but small, telltale signs after we had that conversation told me she didn’t believe I would see it through. The more we talked about it, the more she changed the plan from our original idea. The closer we got to actually executing the plan, the more she pushed the idea of trapping Lorenzo, giving him to Damon, and cashing in on the bounty instead
executing him ourselves.
But I didn’t care about the money. When we talked about what we’d do, I didn’t push my agenda on her once I realized her hesitation with it. My plans were my own, and I kept my cards well hidden. She could get whatever money she wanted out of Damon, but Lorenzo’s life was mine. It had been since the day he murdered my mother, even if he didn’t know. Even if everyone in my life thought I was too weak to actually carry out the dirty deed.
Maybe I was at one time.
But I promised myself I’d never be weak again. I promised my mother her killer would pay for what he’d done as I stood over her grave the day I buried her, the tears pouring out of my eyes and mixing with the raindrops from the torrential storm that raged around me.
Without saying a word, I passed Damon’s gun back to him. He gave me a perplexed look, questioning my intentions, but I had other plans before I outright killed Lorenzo. Carrie wasn’t kidding when she said she’d trained for years to fight. She had a small arsenal of weapons, so I helped myself to her brass knuckles. They were illegal, but she didn’t let that little inconvenience stop her from owning several pairs. The ones I chose for Lorenzo were actually made out of cast iron, perfect for inflicting more damage and adding extra pain to my punch.
Lorenzo watched as I slipped them over my knuckles and squeezed the palm grip. His gaze drifted up to mine, and for a moment, I could’ve sworn I saw a hint of admiration in his eyes.
“You know, when tough guys use those in movies, they make it look so easy. But the reality is very different. You’ll break your fingers if you try to throw a straight-on punch with them on.” Lorenzo spoke calmly, but I sensed a hint of sadness in him. I didn’t get the feeling that was because of what I was about to do to him, though.
“You don’t speak to her.” Damon grabbed Lorenzo’s face, squeezing and shaking Lorenzo’s jaw as he spoke through gritted teeth. “I will rip your fucking throat out if you utter one wrong word.”
Damon released him with a violent snap of his wrist, making Lorenzo’s head jerk to the side. When Lorenzo turned his gaze back to Damon’s, there was no anger or hatred in it. But his confident mask had dissolved, revealing his vulnerability.
Lorenzo nodded at Damon. “You don’t have to do this, you know. There’s a better way to handle this problem, Damon.”
“Better than blowing your head off? This, I’ve got to hear.”
Lorenzo drew in a deep breath, straightening his back as he inhaled. “We could work together.”
“Why the fuck would I ever work with you on anything?” I stepped forward, piercing him with the daggers flying from my eyes. “Why do you think you deserve to live after you murdered my mother?”
He looked to Damon and lifted one eyebrow. Damon nodded, giving Lorenzo permission to speak to me. “Choose your words wisely. If you upset her, you’ll lose your fucking tongue.”
“Jillian, I didn’t kill your mother.”
“You ordered your men to do it because you didn’t have the balls to do it yourself. But I do have the balls to kill you for issuing the order, though.”
“I also didn’t order my men to kill her. My father did, no matter how hard I fought against his decision.”
“You’d better start from the beginning and explain exactly what you mean. Tell me everything, or I swear to God, you’ll wish you were dead before I finish with you. You’re the one who gave me the ultimatum to kill Damon or you’d kill my mother.”
“Yes, I did do that, but just hear me out. My father has been trying to start an all-out war for some time now. He wants huge shootouts in the street between our families. He wants a show of brute force that resonates through every borough and daily media coverage of our battles. The bigger, the better. When he positions the Sanfratello family just right, he has a plan to annihilate all of the Marchetti family.
“One step in that plan was to take Damon out of the picture, one way or another. You were a convenient target that day my father’s men shot at you two on the street. They were supposed to hit Damon, but make it look like they were after you. That way, Damon getting hit in the cross fire could be explained away.
“My threat to you was supposed to make you run back to Louisiana to be with your mother, knowing Damon would follow you. He assumed responsibility for your safety the first time you were seen with him, and my father knew that. Dad said Damon would go after you, at least long enough to set his Sanfratello takeover plans in motion. That’s what Dad told me, anyway. I found out too late to do anything about his plans to kill you and your mother when you arrived. That order never came from me, Jillian.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“The Underboss and Consigliere of my family just walked out, leaving me here to die. They want you to kill me for several reasons. First, it’ll validate the war they’re going to wage against the Marchettis anyway. But it’ll ensure the smaller factions side with them.
“There are very few laws we follow outside of our own code of honor. Killing a made man is one of those laws we just don’t break. A Marchetti-sanctioned hit on me would guarantee other families would align with my father because they wouldn’t trust the Marchetti name anymore.”
“And the second reason?”
“Second, they already knew I was running that scam, taking money from our own men and our allies. Do you really think my father cares about that? He only used it as leverage against me because it fits his cause. I’ve been saving that money for the past year, squirreling away as much as possible, because I’ve been planning my getaway. That money was my ticket out of this life. They’re using it as a flimsy excuse to leave me here with you—like they don’t take money from everyone they know.”
Lorenzo dropped his eyes to the floor, and I stood there staring at him, my mind reeling from all he’d shared. How could I doubt what he was telling me? He knew I was hell-bent on killing him. He had nothing to lose by telling me the truth now. But then, on the other hand, how could I believe him? He could very well try to play me by feeding me lies and half-truths until I let him walk away.
He looked lost. He looked as if his best friend had died. He looked as if he’d just experienced the ultimate betrayal in his life.
If what he said was the truth, then I supposed he had also felt the bitter sting of betrayal. His own father sacrificed him for a chance to be the area’s mafia king. Geno was ruled by blind ambition and ruthless intentions. Even his own son wasn’t given advance warning or the least bit of protection.
How could I possibly know fact from fiction? How could I know with absolute certainty he had told me the truth? How could I let him live with even the slightest possibility that he was the one responsible for murdering my mother?
I cut my eyes to Damon to gauge his reaction to the overload of information. His expression was passive, giving nothing away about his inner thoughts. Whether he believed Lorenzo wasn’t part of the equation. In his mind, Lorenzo was a Sanfratello, and all Sanfratellos were the enemy.
That wasn’t good enough for me.
Then I looked at Carrie, hoping she’d be an easier book to read than her older brother was. How I’d ever missed the signs before that moment was beyond me. Maybe my own path to vengeance had blinded me to everything else. Maybe keeping my secret plans for the meeting with Lorenzo had prevented me from seeing she had her own secrets.
The one and only fact I was certain of was that Damon had no clue whatsoever.
Everyone had so many fucking secrets. Their world seemed to create them out of the blue.
“And reason number three why they want you dead is because they found out you’re secretly in love with a Marchetti, right? They knew part of your escape plan included taking her with you—and that would hurt the Sanfratellos more than it would the Marchettis. With your father making a bid for top dog, his son running off with a member of the rival family would cast a lot of doubt on his ability to manage his family.”
Dead silence filled the room.
“I’
m right, aren’t I, Carrie?”
She wouldn’t look at me.
Lorenzo wouldn’t look at me.
Damon couldn’t look at me. He couldn’t stop his eyes from darting back and forth between Carrie’s and Lorenzo’s faces, waiting for one of them to crack.
Pieces of the puzzle that never fully made sense began to fall into place. Carrie’s change of heart over trapping Lorenzo with the intent to kill him was the main one. She said she wanted to make Damon pay us the fee he’d posted on the dark web, but she had plenty of her own money. She ran her own illegal schemes and had stolen more than enough money through insider trading and blackmail. She didn’t need the chump change Damon offered in comparison.
“Did you think the two of you would run away together when we came here tonight, Carrie? Was that your plan all along?”
Lorenzo looked at Carrie, hope brimming in his eyes and anticipation covering his features. “Is she right, Carrie?”
“Hold up just a fucking minute!” Damon bellowed, running his fingers through his hair with one hand and pointing his gun at Lorenzo with the other. “Just wait a goddamn minute. Are you saying this is true? You’ve been sleeping with my sister?”
“Put the gun down, Damon.” Carrie stepped between Damon and Lorenzo, her hands on her hips and a stern expression on her face.
“Yes, Damon, put the gun down. You know better than to point it at your sister.” The deep, commanding voice bellowed from the entryway, causing all four of our heads to jerk in that direction.
Vincenzo and Uncle Leo had joined our spontaneous gathering. While Damon’s, Carrie’s, and Lorenzo’s eyes were glued to the Boss and Underboss of the family, I turned my attention back to Lorenzo. He wasn’t breathing at all. He’d completely frozen in place, as if instantly changing into a statue would save him from the Marchetti family members who quickly surrounded him. The intense fear radiating from him was palpable because he knew his life was over. He had a chance of talking his way out of the situation by appealing to Damon and me. But not Vincenzo.
Warning: The Complete Series Page 22
