Covert (The Clans Book 9)

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Covert (The Clans Book 9) Page 6

by Elizabeth Knox


  I stand up in front of Al, glad for my height. I almost black him out completely from Franco’s vision. “I’m sorry for being in your office without permission. I was simply looking for the most likely place to find a notepad where I could work on something sentimental for you. I wanted to show you what it means to me that you have taken me as a part of all your lives so quickly. But he ruined the surprise, I guess.” I hook my thumb back at Al, hoping that the fact that I am a young woman who puts out will cloud Franco’s vision. It’s not like crime families don’t betray each other all the time anyway.

  Franco looks at me with soft eyes, coming towards me. His hand caresses my face, and I close my eyes as if I am enjoying it immensely. But then he says, “Put her with the other one.”

  “Antonio!” Al screams as he pulls me against him, holding me. Antonio, the middle son, comes rushing into the room. “Help me get her to the car.”

  Franco turns his back on us, and I know that he no longer will believe a word I say. But that doesn’t mean I won’t fight for my fucking life. I remember everything from training. I buck my head back and get Al in the chin, my feet going out at Antonio wildly. But he grabs them and twists them, almost breaking my left leg. “I suggest you cooperate if you want to be able to live through the night. I can break every bone in your body and cut you and leave you bleeding, or we can go have a talk.”

  I haven’t had many dealings with Antonio, but I get the feeling he is sadistic and no one to fuck with. I finally give in and let them get me to the back of an SUV, resigned to my fate. I reach in my pocket and turn on the location services on my burner phone and let it drop into the floorboard as I pretend to fight them one more time just so they won’t see what I’ve done. Hopefully, Marcel will come looking for me eventually and be able to track me. And if not him, then Z, though I don’t know what the CIA does to those who get captured like this. They might just rather see me dead.

  We arrive in the dark to a butcher shop of all places. Instead of walking in the front door I am taken in the back, carried down, down, until we reach the freezer where all the meat hangs. I try not to gag at the look of it and instead focus on the unconscious girl lying next to the spot where they throw me down. As they tie me up, I look for signs of life. She is breathing, her chest rising and falling slowly. I don’t know who she is or why she’s here, but she will probably be my only ally now.

  Chapter 15

  Isabella

  The profound scent of flesh hits my nostrils as I wake up to my arm being shaken. Upon opening my eyes I see a curvy woman with long, auburn hair. While it’s dark in here I can make out her features. She somehow looks familiar but I can’t put my finger on it.

  “Who are you?” The woman asks, narrowing her eyes on me.

  “Teresa,” I respond, sticking with my cover story. For all I know this woman could be part of the Falcones. You can never be too sure these days. My training with the FBI and CIA taught me to constantly expect the unexpected.

  She scoffs in front of me, “You’re one hell of a liar, whoever you are. I saw the way your eyes darted across me, debating on whether or not to be truthful. In this life everyone has a tell, yours are your eyes, in case you didn’t know.”

  I’m not sure what to make of the situation. Part of me wants to believe she isn’t some sort of mole for the Falcones, planted in this room with me to hand them my deepest darkest secrets.

  The woman is sitting on her ass, back against the walls with her hands zip tied together on her lap. She huffs, “If you’re not going to say shit to me, I’ll just tell you who I am. Obviously we’re both in a fucked up situation and we’ll need to help one another as much as we can. I’m Madigan Steele.”

  Just like that her name rings a huge bell in my mind. A couple years ago her name was thrown around through the tabloids as the secret Steele love child. Her mother was an actress and her father was married to another when she was born. The media had an absolute frenzy with this one.

  “How’d you end up in a place like this?” I ask, hoping she’ll give me more information. She could still be working for the Falcones, but I don’t know. Wait. If my memory serves me correctly, Madigan was dating Vinny before he went missing. It was right before all the information came out regarding her paternity.

  Madigan sighs, allowing the room to fill with silence before she responds. “Paying for past mistakes it seems. Now it’s your turn. Care to share, Teresa?” She spits out the fake name I’m going by as my cover and I need to think fast. Being part of the Clans means I’m privy to certain information. While most people believe the Steeles to have their fortune based on smart investments in start-up companies, I know that to be a lie. The Steeles are the guys you go to when you need guns transported across North America. Hell, the Clans might’ve even used them a time or two. I’m not sure, although I’m certain we’re not enemies.

  I look around the room to make sure no one could be eavesdropping. Thankfully, the only thing I see in here are pieces of meat hung from hooks in the ceiling. It’s not too frigid, so I’d say we’re in a refrigerator.

  “I’m Isa,” I start off, debating on what else to say. I’m weighing every positive and negative that comes to my mind.

  “Is that short for Isabella?”

  I nod, allowing her to continue speaking.

  “Ah, alright. My brother told me a guy named Marcel was calling him up about Vinny. Christian, being my overbearing older brother did some digging into this Marcel fellow. We had a mutual friend grab photos of you two here in New York. My bet is he’s your lover. But that wasn’t the cherry on the cake, he’s the lead clan member for the Funars in the Romanian mafia.”

  “You seem to have too much time on your hands,” I hastily reply, a bit annoyed she violated my privacy. However, it was a smart move. While I respect it, doesn’t mean I like it.

  Madigan lets a chuckle loose, “Yes, I do. The last couple of years have gotten away from me. I’m newly married and a stay-at-home mom. To be honest with you when they abducted me I thought I’d never see my little boy again, but I know my brothers. They won’t let the Falcones take me away from my husband, or my son. We’re going to get out of here, Isabella.” Instead of feeling angry at how naïve Madigan truly is, hope swarms through my body. Now I’m unsure if I’m the ignorant one.

  The large metal door comes open with a click and in walks Antonio, Franco’s middle son. He glances over to Madigan for a moment before he rapidly charges up to me and wraps his sweaty hand around my throat, squeezing tightly. “I’m going to make you pay for being a fucking snitch. I knew something was up with you from the first moment we met. You were different than all the other pussy Dad brings around. Paying too much attention to shit that shouldn’t concern you. What do you have to say for yourself, Teresa?” Antonio’s lips are so close to mine that his spit flies on my face as he screams.

  “Go fuck yourself. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I seethe back, not afraid of whatever he’s bringing my way.

  “I know enough, cagna. I’ve even come up with the perfect way to give you a taste of your own medicine.” He rips his hand from my throat, laughing diabolically in the process.

  Antonio reaches behind him and picks up a bottle filled with a dark liquid. There’s only one shitty light in this refrigerator so I can’t tell exactly what color is in the container. “You’re obviously not from around here or you wouldn’t have dared to go against us. Do you know what we do to snitches, Teresa?”

  I don’t bother answering and continue to glare at this bastard.

  “I figured you wouldn’t. Well, we make them understand what it means to be a snitch. You see, our family used to call people like you rats but that was too kind of a term. Instead we call you pigs. That’s what you are in all honesty. Ugly, disgusting individuals who would be better fileted into tiny little pieces than taking up our oxygen.” Antonio picks up a plastic thing on the metal table in the middle of the refrigerator and brings it closer. It’s one
of those plastic funnels that people can use to put oil in their car. He shoves it into my mouth before I realize what’s happening and I feel the long end hit the back of my throat. I thrash my head around but his hand is planted firmly on it. Every time I move he shoves the funnel in deeper and it presses even more harshly against my throat, scraping me in such a sensitive area. While I’m realizing every time I move is harming me, he’s opened the bottle and is pouring a tarte, thick tasting substance down into my mouth.

  As it hits the back of my throat, it spills out over my tongue and down my mouth because I don’t know what it is. What I won’t do is swallow this shit. It could be poison.

  Antonio scowls down at me, “Swallow this shit or I’ll do shit the way my father does, cagna. Believe me, you don’t want me to resort to that. It won’t be pleasant in any way.”

  This guy is bluffing. If he was going to do something horrific he would’ve started with that. Not with this symbolic shit.

  Antonio slams his hand down in the center of my throat when I don’t comply and I suck in a sharp breath, choking on the thick liquid in the process. “I hope you enjoy the taste of your own kind. Pig’s blood is on the menu for your indefinitely.” He rips the funnel out of my mouth, places it back on the metal table with the bottle which is about half full at this point and turns to Madigan. “I hope you’re not jealous, sweetheart. My Dad will be in to pay close attention to you a bit later.”

  Chapter 16

  Marcel

  Answer your fucking phone!

  I read the text Salvatore just sent me and immediately feel like something is wrong. So, as his name pops up on my phone again, I answer.

  “What’s the matter?” I ask immediately, not wanting to play games.

  “It’s Aria and the babies. She’s in the hospital with preeclampsia.”

  “With what?” I ask, furrowing my brows together.

  “A condition that women can get when they’re pregnant. I don’t understand all of it, but essentially her blood pressure is too high and it starts affecting other organs in her body.” Salvatore says.

  “Okay . . . so can they take the babies?”

  Salvatore grows quiet, “She’s told them no. Aria wants the babies to cook for a bit longer. The physician has told us they have a higher chance of being born now without much of a fatality risk, around ninety-eight percent or so . . . but you know Aria.”

  Aria will put her kids’ lives above her own any day of the week, even the ones who aren’t born yet. I shake my head at my bull headed younger sister. “She can’t be making decisions like this right now. Sorina needs her mother, you need your wife and God, those twins need to be born. If her blood pressure is that high it can’t be good for her to stay in this state.”

  “It’s not. Marcel, I don’t know what to do here. I could really use some back up in convincing her otherwise. Can you get up to Seattle as soon as possible?”

  Shit. This isn’t good. First Isabella is missing along with Madigan Steele, and now Aria and the twins are in danger. Fuck!

  “I don’t know. There’s some pretty heavy shit happening here, Salvatore.”

  “What kind of shit is more important than your sister and nieces or nephews dying?” Salvatore snaps, and I can’t blame him for being so enraged.

  I’m of no use to anyone here, sitting around and waiting for some type of news. I can’t help Isabella because I don’t know where the fuck she is and if something happens to Aria I don’t think I’d ever be able to forgive myself.

  “I’ll be on the first flight out. Don’t let her do anything stupid, alright?”

  “Pfft. Like I have any say in your stubborn ass sisters decisions.” Salvatore mumbles.

  “Salvatore, don’t let her get hurt or hurt the kids. Make sure she stays alive.”

  “I’ll try my best,” Salvatore states as the phone call ends with a click.

  I stand from the leather bench seat outside of Ion’s office and say fuck it when it comes to waiting for him to bring me news. He’s been in there for well over an hour and since shit has changed, I don’t have time to play around anymore.

  “Something is wrong.” Ion states with one look at me.

  “Yes, it’s Aria. She’s in the hospital with a condition which threatens her and the twins.”

  “Oh no. I’m terribly sorry.” Mariana adds in from the corner of his office.

  I give a curt nod. “Thank you, Mariana. This means I need to go be with my sister and try to change her mind about delivering them pre-term. She’s fighting Salvatore and the doctors on it . . . and we’re both afraid something could happen to the babies if she doesn’t deliver soon.”

  “Of course, go where you’re needed. We don’t have information on the whereabouts regarding Isabella.” Ion says.

  “Yet,” Mariana cuts in immediately afterward, trying to offer me a semblance of hope.

  I move quickly toward the Romanian King and stare at him firmly in the eyes, “Ion, I’d better be the first man you call when Isabella is found. I will be the one to pull her from the trenches. Do you understand?”

  “More than you know. You love her. That is why she is so important to you.” Ion mutters, finally realizing Isabella’s true meaning to me.

  “You know we’ll call you as soon as we hear anything, Marcel. Go to your sister quickly. Before it’s too late.” Mariana says as she walks up to me and places her hands on my arm, urging me to go.

  It was a good thing I left when I did because I got to Seattle just as Aria was being rushed out of her room by doctors for an emergency c-section. Thank God they took her when they did. Otherwise, who knows what would’ve happened.

  As the twins are being brought in Aria’s hospital room with their name cards on their portable cribs I can’t seem to smile. While this is a joyous occasion I’m too focused on Isabella, the one person who I know would want to be here alongside me right now.

  She’ll just have to meet her nephew Felix and niece Livia another time. Hopefully when she does, my hand will be intertwined in hers and all of this shit will be behind us.

  Chapter 17

  Isabella

  I’ve just fallen asleep as my eyes are ripped open with the intense sound of the door being slammed shut. Immediately I’m on the defensive, heart pounding in my chest, glancing around the room to see what in the world is going on.

  Franco has his hands on Madigan, both of them wrapped around her slender neck, choking her like she’s a chicken. “Stop it!” I scream, tears streaming down my cheeks. I’d love to say the tears are solely for show, but I’d be lying. Hopefully my emotion makes it look like I’m an innocent girl.

  “Shut the fuck up, will you? I’ll deal with you later.”

  “Franco, please. I beg you, stop hurting that girl. This isn’t the you I’ve come to care for. You wouldn’t do something like this to a girl.” In my training I was always told to stick with your story until the very end. Don’t let your mark sense you’ve lied to them, it will give them leverage over you and no one wants that.

  “You don’t know me and I certainly don’t know you!” Franco rips his hands from Madigan’s throat and comes over to me, skimming his hand from the base of my neck, over my breasts and down my stomach. “I know parts of you, but I think you were playing me the entire time. Weren’t you?”

  “I wasn’t!” I holler, thrashing my body against him. I will do anything I need to make it look like I’m Teresa Erins. Franco doesn’t know the truth about me and he won’t. I’ll make damn sure of it.

  “Then what were you doing snooping around, hmm?”

  “I was looking for a notepad. I wanted to write you a fucking note and your sons found me and put me in whatever the fuck this is!” I scream at him, continuing to play the role of an innocent woman.

  “A notepad. Is that a joke?” He cackles, taking his hand away from me.

  I shake my head from side to side, “No. You told me once that a woman has never done sweet things for you, that you’ve
always bought things for them or showed your appreciation for them in a materialistic way. I wanted to do something to show you I’m not like the others, Franco.” I say, changing my tone to a pleading voice. I bow my head and look down at the floor, hoping he’ll believe the bullshit I just spit out.

  Franco doesn’t say a word. He simply rises and walks over to Madigan, staring down at her. “Your brother might’ve tried to save you, but at some point everyone has to pay for their sins. I bet you thought you could move on and live a happy life while my son’s body rotted wherever you dumped him at. Newsflash, traditore, the Falcones always serve justice. You were one of us Madigan, and then you ran like a scared little girl. It was a sign that you were never supposed to be a Falcone. You were never worthy of the life we had planned for you.”

  “I—” Madigan is cut off by Franco rising his hand in the air to silence her.

  “Whatever you have to say, don’t bother. We both know the truth, Madigan. It’s why you’re going to pay for what you did to my son, and my grandchild.”

  I notice Madigan’s eyes widen at that. I’m guessing her pregnancy must’ve been a secret. “I had a miscarriage you old fool! I didn’t abort my child.”

  “No, but because of you my grandchild died and for that you will pay dearly.” Franco hisses, yanking her up by the zip ties on her wrists. “Entra subito,” Franco hollers, and in come two men who take Madigan from Franco’s grip and lift her up in the air. I wonder what the hell is happening before my eyes when they slam her back onto one of the empty meat hooks across the room. She screams out in debilitating agony and I try my best to not vomit. No amount of training can ever prepare you for this.

  Blood slowly comes down her back and drips down in a puddle on the floor. I have to turn my face so I don’t see it, but Franco comes over to me and turns my neck to face forward. “This is what happens to people who betray my family. Lazzaro, please ensure she can’t look away from what’s about to happen.” One of Franco’s men comes over, kneels down and takes my face from his boss’ grip, forcing me to look at Madigan.

 

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