“Careful,” Nixon snarled through his gritted teeth. “You stepped down.”
“And if I challenge you again? If I kill you?”
His eyes fell. “Then you not only lose your brother. You lose the last part of your pathetic soul holding on, for what, Chase?” He shook me by the shirt just as a gunshot rang out.
The De Langes shot at each other; one of the bullets ricocheted toward us.
I shoved Nixon behind me, pulled out my gun.
And fired ten rounds.
Direct hits.
In the chest.
And as each body fell.
I felt nothing but rage.
Chaos erupted between the bosses as I was jerked back from the group by a pair of hands.
“Go,” the gruff, familiar voice said.
I turned to yell and wondered in that moment if I was dead. I spread my hands over my chest and shook my head. “What the fuck?”
“Go.” His hair was longer.
His face older.
His posture more relaxed.
“Luca?” I felt myself cave then, felt myself want to reach for him, to make sure he was real.
“Go,” he said it again, blocking me with his body before I ran out of the building and into my car.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
“And it comes full circle — my secrets, his, our demons, the life set before us before we had a chance to even agree to the war put in place. Everything will always come down to choices. He made mine for me and died for it, but does anyone ever really stay dead?”
— Ex-FBI Agent P
Phoenix
I had known it was coming.
I had the folder to prove it.
The folder that had come to me last week when my wife was sleeping, and as I held my son and read over the contents, I hadn’t been sure if I was happy or pissed.
The folder had a burn notice in it.
Burn at all costs.
For your eyes only.
It held more than secrets; it held the whole damn plan, from beginning to end, how things were supposed to go, and where it had all fallen apart.
I hung my head then stood as the room suddenly fell very quiet. As Luca Nicolasi rose from the very dead and walked, head high, into the middle of the room and eyed me.
“You’ve done well, son.”
“Thank you,” I croaked, my body felt heavy, my soul light. “Are you ready?”
He nodded.
I stood on stiff legs and then walked around the table and knelt in front of him as he placed his hands over my head.
Blood pooled around us == the blood of my enemies, the blood of my blood, the blood that I refused to hold in my body, in my soul.
Two people performed this ceremony.
Tex was ready.
I told him there was no need.
My world faded to darkness as Luca slit his palm with a knife and then trickled his blood over my head.
I lifted my right hand as he sliced through my palm then pressed them together. He pulled out his Saint; it was on a broken piece of paper, crumpled and used.
I pulled mine out.
He ripped it in half.
Then pulled out a lighter and whispered, “As burns this Saint, so burns my soul. Blood in, no out.”
The rest of the room repeated the mantra.
He held up his Saint then pressed it against his palm and grabbed my hand; our fingers joined, his blood, mine, his marker, no longer his own.
His Saint…
Now mine.
“Let it be recorded,” he rasped, “that Phoenix De Lange is no more. He is now Phoenix Nicolasi, blood of my blood, adopted son into my family. Let nobody rip apart what God has ordained.”
“Amen.” Everyone made the cross motion in front of them and kissed their fingers as I stood and pulled him in for a hug.
And then the painful part.
“To live,” he whispered against my neck, “is to die.”
The gunshot rang out, going right through the right side of my body. I felt the bullet go out my back and almost collapsed against Luca as I nodded and limped back to my chair.
Bleeding.
Alive, but bleeding.
I’d never felt better.
Reborn.
He’d saved my life.
Given me purpose.
And then his name.
I owed him everything.
But it was time for the secrets — his secrets — to be laid to rest.
He hung his head and then smiled over at Dante. “You look just like me.”
Dante was pale. He stood and leaned over the table as if he was going to be sick.
“I’ve never been prouder.” He eyed Dante and then Frank behind him. “Never prouder of all of you.” His gaze roamed across every man in that room, as he finally said the words I knew would either end his life again or welcome him back into the fold. “The FBI refused to let go of the Families, regardless of our threats, regardless of what we did, so I made a deal.”
Nixon cursed.
Frank closed his eyes.
“I was to leave a successor and an informant. If I staged my own death and did these two things, they would leave the Families alone for good.” He sighed. “So I did what was best to protect those whom I loved. I retired, I died, and then, things went south…” He eyed Andrei. “Didn’t they?”
Andrei nodded, his eyes compassionate. “I tried.”
“I know, son.” Luca held out his hand. “I was never supposed to come back to you. This was not part of the plan, and if the FBI ever finds out, the ramifications will be worse for all of you. I’m here—” He cleared his throat. “—I’m here as a courtesy to the man I mentored, and to my bloodline.” He nodded to Andrei.
And then all hell broke loose.
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
“That. Didn’t go… well.”
— Ex-FBI Agent P
Luciana
I watched the clock like a hawk.
One hour.
Two hours.
He’d said it could last all day.
I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I tried to busy myself with things in the house, but a person can only bake so much before going a bit stir-crazy.
I decided to get the mail and organize the office. Chase didn’t want me working, but I figured since he decided not to go through with everything that he wouldn’t mind if I got a few things done.
The trip to the mailbox was quick.
I stopped in my tracks when I noticed one of the packages bore my name. It was from my parents.
I quickly tore it open and pored over all the notes; then, with shaking hands, almost dropped it onto the pavement.
“No—” I shook my head. “—no, that’s…” I read the next page, my birth certificate from Washington State, the name — the stupid name — over and over again. It was spelled the exact same way, which I knew. I thought it was a figment of my imagination, that it would be spelled differently, that I was losing my mind and it wasn’t the same name.
Italian’s adopted me.
My name… from an Italian family.
The notes from the hospital stated that I had been dropped off.
That was it.
Just dropped off with a letter that said what my name was.
Did that mean anything?
With trembling fingers, I darted into the house, dropped the rest of the mail in the kitchen, and ran up the stairs to look over Chase’s records.
There had to be something.
Something on all the crime families, right?
Two hours later, I still hadn’t found anything useful. No family trees.
Nothing.
My head pounded.
I yawned and went in search of some Advil.
Chase kept most of his medicine in the pantry.
I was just grabbing a bottle when I heard the door slam and someone run up the stairs.
Elated, I quickly shut the pantry door, took my Advi
l, and ran up the stairs after him. “Chase? Chase? Is that you? Is everything okay?”
His back was to me.
He stood frozen on the stairway.
I reached for him. He turned, gripped my hands, and wordlessly pulled me down the hall
He didn’t speak.
Didn’t do anything except drink from my mouth, press his body against mine, and strip my clothes until they made a pile on the floor.
“Never again,” he whispered between kisses.
I gripped his head. “What do you mean?”
“I won’t survive it.” He pressed his face to my neck. “Falling in love… I promised myself never again.”
“And?”
I hesitated, waiting, while he pressed a kiss to my chin and admitted, “And then I fell…”
I was so overjoyed I forgot about the papers, my birth certificate. I forgot about everything and enjoyed the moment when the man I had been fighting for finally surrendered in my arms, and when he entered me, when he watched our bodies join, I gasped in awe as he gave me his soul.
Without holding back.
We were in the room for hours. Finally, Chase stood and then bent over and kissed my cheek. “Want anything to eat?”
“No.” I cuddled back into the mattress. “Why? Where are you going?”
“Kitchen.” He grinned. “I’ll make coffee then fill you in. Things are… tense.”
“Tense, as in…”
He just shook his head. “If someone comes at me with a gun, know that it’s only partially my fault if I pull the trigger first.”
“Reassuring,” I said with dryness in my throat.
His lips twisted up into a smirk. “I thought so too.”
He kissed me again like he couldn’t get enough of me and disappeared from the room.
I fell back asleep and woke up later to sunlight streaming in his window, kissing my bare legs and warming my face.
It felt like a new day.
A bright day.
A fresh start.
I stretched my arms over my head and looked at the empty spot next to me on the bed where he’d been. My blood chilled.
Because sitting on his pillow… was a white horse.
“Run.” I remembered Andrei’s words.
Run. Run. Run.
Panicked, I looked around the room.
Not a sound.
The house was silent.
He wasn’t throwing things and raging. Maybe it was a test? A mistake? Panicked, I threw on my clothes and ran down the stairs to the kitchen.
And on the table were the scattered papers from my parents.
Footsteps sounded. “I did warn you.”
“Chase—”
“Don’t. Speak.”
I turned around and whispered, “I’m not her.”
“STOP!”
“I’m. NOT. HER!” I screamed. “I had no idea! And do you really think I would be stupid enough to tell you my real name when you hate anyone and anything that sounds like her? I’m adopted! You know this! I’ve worked for Nikolai for—”
He paled further. “Nikolai knew? FUCK! HE KNEW!”
I felt myself flinch.
“It doesn’t matter.” He pointed the gun again. “This family no longer exists. They’re dead to me. She’s dead to me. You’re dead to me. I can’t trust you. Don’t you get it? If I can’t trust you, I can’t—”
“No…” Tears streamed down my face. “…no, Chase, you don’t understand! It’s a misunderstanding! Seriously, just, please, just listen.” My voice rose with the fear pounding through my chest. He wouldn’t, would he? And then every time he’d threatened to kill me rolled through my brain.
His hate.
His hatred for that name.
His dead wife.
All aimed at me with one betraying point of his gun.
He shook the barrel in front of my face, taunting me with his madness. “A fucking misunderstanding? What? Did they plant you? Just to see if I would be that stupid a second time? Fall for another De Lange? What sort of sick joke is this?” he roared.
The weapon was pointed directly at my chest, driving into my skin. I’d never been so terrified in my entire life as his eyes crazed.
“Tell me, before I shoot you, so I know who to kill next.”
“Chase…” My voice shook so hard I wasn’t even sure if he understood it was his name that kept falling from my lips like a prayer, like I was begging him to listen and see reason. “…I swear to you I had no idea until today.”
“No idea that your last name was De Lange?” His head tilted in that predatory way animals did before they struck.
I felt my face pale as my body almost gave way. “I knew, but, I thought it was just a common name, like Smith or something. A lot of people have the same last name.”
“Try again.” He ground his teeth, his finger on the trigger.
I knew that look.
There was no rational.
No logic.
He would kill me.
And it would be my own fault.
My body went numb as blood pumped through my legs, warning me to turn and run, but I wouldn’t make it far, and I figured my chances were better facing it head on, seeing his face, locking onto his eyes.
My mind wasn’t working as fast as I needed it to. I didn’t know how to prove my loyalty, my love.
He pressed the gun to my chest.
Our eyes met.
Torment filled their depths as his body shook.
He didn’t want this.
He wanted to believe me.
I had to believe that, even if it was a lie.
Without thinking, I gripped the gun.
“What are you doing?”
I shoved it to my shoulder. “I would never hurt you or betray you. But if you think I could, if I would, shoot me.”
It was a gamble.
One I wasn’t sure I would win.
“Shoot me!” I cried.
His head shook as his eyes darted back and forth between my eyes and my mouth as if he wasn’t sure if I was lying or just buying more time.
I pulled the gun against my shoulder; felt his finger press against the trigger.
I closed my eyes and whispered, “I love you, and you are enough, Chase.”
“What?” he yelled right back.
“You. Are. Enough. Even though you gave me a sliver of your heart, what’s left of your soul, your body… it was enough. It will always be enough.” I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger. A sound rang out as I stumbled backward and fell against the wall just as Vic ran into the room yelling.
I blinked up at Chase. “I love you… always love you.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
“The secrets I kept. The lies I told. Worth it. At least that’s what I told myself at night when blood dripped from my hands, when I lied and lied and lied again.”
— Ex-FBI Agent Petrov
Nixon
We’d send the rest of the Families away; this was not their business, not any longer. All it took was a few bottles of wine to get them to stop grumbling about our lack of… discipline. Well, that and promises that we would all continue doing business with them.
The De Lange men started to stand.
“Sit. Down.” Tex grit through his teeth. “Your business is not finished yet.”
I exhaled slowly, partly in relief that I wasn’t picking up my best friend’s dead body, partly in fear that I couldn’t undo what had already been done. Someone had fired toward us.
And his retaliation had been killing ten people in cold blood. Even those who didn’t raise a gun in our direction.
By saving me…
He’d damned himself.
I knew it. The rest of the guys knew it. One body, the one guilty, that was justifiable, but shooting another nine in cold blood? During a commission?
Blood must be spilled. A life for a life. It was our motto.
“Luca…” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “…help me und
erstand this.”
Sergio stepped forward instead and held up his hand. “I was the informant. When I stepped down—”
“Threatened the higher-ups,” Andrei snorted.
Sergio gave him a glare. “When I pointed my gun, when they took my badge away, they lost their foothold. I can only imagine they desperately wanted that back and were willing to do anything to get it.”
Luca sighed. “I gave them what they wanted the only way I knew how. I left my family in the best hands. I left every inch of information I had on every single person close to the Families, and when I met an eighteen-year-old misfit who hated his father almost as much as everyone else did, I made a choice. I knew his parentage, knew his father had not sired him, knew that he would be our last hope if the Petrovs were taken down…”
I wasn’t sure I liked where this was going.
“We needed control of the Russians, so I made a trade.” Luca shrugged. “I offered Andrei our safety, our protection, and in return, he sold me his loyalty, I hand-fed him everything he needed to know and brought him to the FBI on a silver platter.” He chuckled. “You should have seen their faces. Not only had I given them another informant, but I’d done the impossible. I’d delivered the next boss to the Petrov empire.”
“But…” I ran my hands through my hair. “…last year—”
“You know why I did what I did,” Andrei spoke up. “I had no choice. Everything had to look real. The FBI wanted a presence with the Italians, and they figured the only place you had lost a foothold was the University. I brought in a few of my oblivious men and did what needed to be done. I brought fear back into the school — power, prestige — and you nearly ruined it all by sending him.” He pointed to Dante.
Dante flipped him off.
Which only made Andrei laugh harder.
“I gave them the reins, but I still controlled the horse.” Luca nodded. “Because I controlled Andrei, until he stepped down after Mil was shot. The FBI wanted nothing to do with our little war… so they let him go after he told them everything he knew, which was a bunch of BS, mind you.”
Andrei saluted us with his middle finger.
Stunned, I could only stare at Luca. “So what happens next, old man?”
Eulogy (Eagle Elite Book 9) Page 25
