Reign (The Vendetta Series Book 2)

by Kris Anne Dean

  The sound of my men growing impatient jolts me from my thoughts. Brie and Lanah Kent would have to wait. The clock is ticking and we need to get moving before I lose the element of surprise. I kiss her forehead and motion to Dante.

  “Take her to Vinny’s and stay with her until I get there.” I hand him the smaller duffel bag filled with our clothes and twist a key off my key ring for her. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. We have to make our move tonight, like we planned. We take care of the immediate threat and then we can focus on the long-term plan to neutralize Deluca.”

  Her eyes remain steady on mine, not a single tear falls, although I can see the worry in them. “No deviation. In and out like we planned and get back to us like you promised.” She rubs her hand across her stomach and I place mine on top of hers.

  “I promise.” I trail the tip of my tongue over her lips, parting them enough to slip inside. The heat of her breath moves through me. I stroke the back of her hair and pull her close. Her body melts into mine. Our tongues twisting with the need growing deep within. I have to force myself to pull away, turn her around and swat her tight ass as she walks away.

  I stand still for a moment, watching her leave and shake the cloud from my head. There will be time to own her body later. Right now, it’s time to set the plan in motion. The men refocus their diverted eyes on me, once Brie’s out of earshot.

  Say what you will, but we’re all the same. Whether cloaked in expensive suits or jeans and leather jackets. We are Mafia. We strike fear in the hearts of those that cross us. We live by the gun, we die by the gun. Tonight is one of those times. The new crew is ready. They better be because I’m placing my faith in them and it’s all on the line tonight. My demons lurking under the surface are out for blood, preparing to rein hell down on my enemies.

  “Alright guys, listen up. Over the last several weeks, we’ve done some housekeeping in the administration department. This here is the new Carracci Family. Vinny has retired, appointing me as Don. He will stay active as Consigliere, although it appears he’s off chasing some tail tonight. I’ve asked Lu to step up as my underboss, Dario as Capo and Rafe as his second in command. They have all graciously accepted the position.”

  “It’s an honor,” Lu says and stands up, taking his place by my side.

  Dario stands and shakes both our hands. “I won’t let you down.”

  I vetted our newest members, Bobby, Christopher and Riccardo personally and Nash spent weeks training them in proper weapons handling, surveillance and combat. They will make excellent soldiers. I’ve paired them each with a long-time member of the family and tonight I unleash the new and improved Carracci Family. Loyal to the core.

  I pass out untraceable phones, one to each of the men on our crew. “Lu and I are the only one who has the numbers, so if it rings, answer it. If you need me, dial one, for Lu dial two. You get pinched, destroy it.” I give everyone a few minutes to pocket the phones and pick up the larger duffel bag, dropping it on the table in front of them. I pull the zipper back unveiling a variety of guns. “Take your pick.”

  They choose their guns and load the clips. “The plan is simple. We breech the house Nitty Ninez is held up in. Retrieve his supply, any cash you find and get the fuck out of there. It’s not likely any neighbors will call the cops, they won’t want to get involved but keep the gunfire to a minimum. It’s a crack den, so we can’t know who's inside. Only shoot if necessary and under no circumstances do we fire on women or children.”

  “Are we going in on foot? The police can trace our cars back to us,” Marcus’s voice bellows from further in the back. Marcus is one of Vinny’s most trusted associates and is next on my list to take the vow of Omertà.

  “We have untraceable cars waiting for us on the second level of the parking garage two blocks down. Courtesy of Deluca’s chop shop. When you’re clear, ditch them. Remember to wipe your prints off. Keys are in the ignition. Let’s roll out.”

  An hour later, we pull the cars to a stop along the curb a block away. We move in on Nitty Ninez’s headquarters by foot, taking out the street lights as we pass. Two by two we position ourselves around the rundown building, keeping a watch on the windows and fire escapes. Lu and I move among the shadows up the stairs towards the front door. Dario, Riccardo, Rafe, and Marcus are close behind and Bobby and Christopher secure the rear of the building. The kid standing guard at the door can’t be over eighteen and dressed like the thugs he hangs out with. He trembles with one look at us. I signal for him to be quiet and he drops to the ground. I move over him keeping my gun aimed at the front door and remove a small caliber gun from his back pocket.

  “Don’t move,” I whisper and motion for Riccardo to stand guard, while the rest of us move in.

  I slowly edge open the door and we filter inside. The hairs on my arms stand on end and my muscles tighten. I don’t like how quiet it is in here. I was expecting a dozen men ready for anything but the house is empty. I flatten against the wall and signal to my men to move further in. I hold the gun in front of me, ready to take out anyone who draws on me. Slowly I slip into the next room with my men close behind. Stacks of uncut cocaine sit on the table and a fine layer of fresh powder is dusted over the area in front of an empty chair. I move closer and place the stacks into a bag, tossing it to Rafe before moving on. A loud thud in the back of the kitchen catches my attention. I pull my gun and take aim. My finger itching on the trigger when a body tumbles headfirst down a flight of stairs and lands at my feet. There’s dried blood crusted around a single bullet hole through his head. My men draw their guns and take aim at the footsteps following the dead man down the stairs.

  “Don’t shoot. Its Bobby and Christopher,” a voice pleads from the dark stairwell, “We used the fire escape. This floors clear. The only one up here was the dead guy.”

  I lower my gun, allowing them to join us in the kitchen and survey the room. The window over the kitchen sink is wide open and the only man guarding all these drugs was dead when we got here.

  “It’s almost like they knew we were coming. We should question the kid,” Dario says before heading towards the front door. Moments later he and Riccardo return with the kid. They push his shoulders down forcing him to sit in a chair just inches from the dead body. He looks up at me with dark eyes, shaking from head to toe.

  “Sweep the house. I want everything you can find,” I order.

  After my men scatter around the house, I kneel in front of the boy. “Do you know who I am?”

  His voice cracks but his gaze remains hardened. “Yes.”

  “Then it’s only fair I know your name.” I lay my gun on the table with the barrel pointed away.

  His gaze follows my hand and wanders around the room before coming back around to mine. “Scottie. Scottie Sloan.”

  “I won’t hurt you, Scottie but I need you to tell me where everyone is.”

  “I don’t know, Ninez got a call and they bailed. Told Freddy and I to stay.”

  “Is that Freddy?” I nod my head toward the dead man on the floor.

  His eyes look everywhere but at the body. I don’t know how he got caught up with a gang of drug dealers but it's clear to me that this boy is in way over his head. “Why did they leave you two here?”

  His eyes drift downwards and mist over, although he fights back the tears. “Because we’re not important.”

  Footsteps draw my focus away from the boy when my men return to the room carrying heavy bags. They place them on the floor and open them for me to inspect. I cross the room and size up the score of drugs, cash and guns. I may not have taken out Ninez’s operations but I made a serious dent. I nod my satisfaction and they zip up the bags hoisting them onto their burly shoulders.

  The crash of the door slamming shut behind me causes me to jump up and turn toward the sound. I watch through the screen as Scottie stumbles down the stairs, running as fast as he can away from the house, leaving my gun sitting untouched on the kitchen table. “Let him go. He’s just a fright
ened kid. Let’s get this shit somewhere safe.”

  Chapter 12- Brie

  Dante and I walk in heavy silence down the cobblestone streets of the quiet Tribeca neighborhood, his impatience with me growing by the minute. He lets out a sigh, “Are you really going to hang me out to dry with Cal or are you going to tell me what happened earlier?”

  A flash of irritation crosses my face. I know I owe him an explanation but I’m in no mood for the third degree. Until Cal and I figure out who’s behind the threat I’m not trusting anyone with this information, not even my friend. “Relax, if Cal blamed you for anything you wouldn’t be guarding me tonight.”

  He furrows his brow and lets out a low growl, “That’s not an answer.”

  I attempt to swallow back my frustration but lose the battle. “Well, it’s the best you're getting so drop it already.”

  He purses his lips in a tight scowl but stops his line of questioning as we approach a red brick industrial warehouse renovated into a five-floor condominium with a solid glass front. We stop in front of a mountain of a man in a black suit and tie, guarding the door. He resembles a hired gun more than a doorman. He studies our faces glancing back and forth between us. After several minutes he reaches inside his jacket exposing the holstered gun at his side and smiles widely. “Ms. Morgan, I presume?”

  “Yes, I’m Brie Morgan.”

  “Welcome. Mr. Carracci told me to expect you and his nephew but there was no mention of this guy,” he states matter-of-factly, staring intensely at Dante standing next to me.

  “Dante is my guard. Cal will arrive later.”

  “Very well.” He turns and unlocks the heavy glass door. “Take the elevator to the fifth floor.”

  He holds the door open and we enter a small lobby. We pass a desk where another man sits watching several monitors with security feeds of various areas of the building. He moves around the desk and calls the elevator. When the door opens a silver-haired woman exits holding a small dog in her arms. She exchanges greetings with the security guard and exits toward the street. As we wait for the elevator to shut, I watch her set the dog down in a small grass area just outside the door. She blushes like a schoolgirl when a man stops to talk with her. The man from the hotel glances through the glass windows. His dark eyes pierce my skin, not breaking contact until the elevator door closes. What the hell is he doing here? For a moment I contemplate telling Dante but it will only bring up more questions I don’t want to answer.

  We ascend five floors before the elevator opens into Vinny’s loft. I step out of the elevator into a small foyer leading to a wide open living space with exposed interior brick walls, cast-iron columns and hardwood floors. The views take my breath away. Large windows in the front overlook the quiet street below and on the other side a glass door leads to a private garden patio overlooking the Hudson River.

  Dante searches the apartment before carrying the duffel bag of clothes into a room Vinny had the housekeeper make up for Cal and I. He places the bag on the bed and looks around suddenly appearing uncomfortable near me. He was used to standing guard in the hotel's hallway but this setup broke the boundaries Cal insisted he keep. And since he’s still angry with me for keeping him in the dark, I assume he needs privacy to nurse his wounded ego.

  “Why don’t you go down for a smoke? This place is like Fort Knox, no one is getting in here. I can see you from the window. Besides, I’m tired.” I wave him off dismissively. I know my callousness stings but I’m beyond tired and hanging on to my sanity by a thread.

  He hesitates briefly before agreeing. “Keep your phone next to you and call me if you need anything. I’ll watch from the lobby.”

  After he leaves I scan my surroundings, spotting the security camera positioned on the elevator door. I make sure the door to the balcony is locked and return to the bedroom to unpack the clothes Cal brought. I place them into the dresser drawers and make a mental note to send someone for the rest of our clothes in the morning. I draw a warm bath and sink into the oversized freestanding tub. I love this loft, it’s understated elegance and free spirited vibe. I would insist Cal finds us a place just as perfect as this as soon as possible. I am not living in that hotel for one more day. Not after what happened. Not after it was so easy for someone to get to me there. We need more security measures at the bar as well. I still can’t explain how someone could try to frame me in a place crawling with members of the Mafia. Whoever spray painted the hotel wall has to be the same person who left the badge for me to find. Thank god, Agent Kent was too drunk to realize what she saw. My gut is certain the badge belonged to Detective Conroy. The last thing we need is Agent Kent poking her nose into our business. It’s bad enough she feels the need to drown her sorrows in our company. I step out of the bath onto the heated tile floor of the bathroom and practically purr with comfort. I dry myself off and change into lounge pants and a t-shirt before plopping myself onto the plush sofa in the living room.

  I’ve only been at the apartment for a few hours but every minute that goes by with no word I become more nervous that the plan has gone off course. Vinny is off doing god knows what with Agent Kent. The thought grosses me out. Vinny is a silver fox, but she’s half his age and she’s still drowning in heartache over the death of her partner Emilio. I can still feel the blood splatter in my hair and hear his raspy breath struggling to push out his last words… Run. I push the image of his lifeless body out of my mind and pace the length of the loft.

  Growing more restless by the minute I shudder at the thought of Cal making his move against Angelo by taking out Nitty Ninez. We have a plan to take out his operation but tonight is only the first step. The Krymson Destroyers will take the drugs and Cal’s men will hit the dealers every night, dwindling their supply and disrupting the cash flow, until they leave our territory. That punk has no idea who he’s messing with. Cal and his new crew are stronger than Angelo both physically and mentally but Cal doesn’t play as dirty as Angelo and that’s what worries me.

  Suddenly needing air, I move to the window and open it. The cool night air hits my face and the shimmer of the street lights entrance me. I watch as Dante lights up a smoke and talks with the guard below. My eyes roam across the horizon and land on the bright headlights breaking up the dark backdrop of night. I blink to block out the glare and rub my tired eyes but the tiny red dot dancing in my blurred line of sight continues to waver from Dante to the car and back again.

  Dante must see it too because he pulls his gun and aims towards the building on the other side of the street and yells frantically, “Get away from the window,” as the dot hoovers in front of me.

  I drop to the ground as a series of gunshots below echo through the open window. Suddenly, there’s a shrill screech of tires on pavement and the sickening crunch of bending steel and shattering glass. Then, everything falls silent.

  Slowly I inch my way up into a standing position flattened against the wall and lean just enough to peer out. Heavy black smoke hangs in the air and I barely make out Dante crawling towards the mangled mess as the door guard covers him with his gun drawn, circling the area. I watch as he approaches the dark sedan twisted around a light pole. Dante jerks the door open and reaches in pulling the driver out. He drags him across the street, out of the shadows and into the light.

  “No,” I scream.

  My heart beats hard against my chest and tears fall from my eyes as I stumble over my own feet down the elevator and out of the building. By the time I make it to the street, sirens wail in the distance. I drop to my knees unable to catch my breath as panic engulfs me and crawl towards them.

  “Brie, stay there. You don’t want to see this,” Dante pleads.

  “Not a chance.” I push Dante back and take the limp body into my arms, cradling his bloody head on my lap.

  Through my tears, I brush his hair wet with blood off his face and stare into his eyes as the light fades from them. “Stay with me, please. Hang on. Help is coming,” I sob stroking the side of his tender face.r />
  Flashing lights surround me as a swarm of police rush us. They try to pull me away and I swing widely at them. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

  I can’t let him go. I don’t want to. We both know this is the end and there is no way in hell I was letting him die anywhere but in my arms. I watch the shallow rise and fall of his chest weaken as blood continues to coat his clothes spilling over my arms and into my lap.

  His eyes flutter open briefly. His lips part. His words come out in short, raspy beats as he pushes out the words. “I’m sorry. I need to tell you...”

  “Shh... We don’t live with regrets, we don’t die with them either.” I lower my face to gently kiss his forehead. His skin is cool against my warm lips and his body twitches in my arms.

  “Know who you are. The future depends on it.” His voice rings through my ears as clear as if he were standing with me instead of dying in my arms. He breathes in and out as if a weight was lifted from him and closes his eyes. Going still in my arms.

  The paramedics pry him from my arms just as more gunshots ring out. The police take cover drawing their weapons on the adjacent building. The heat from a bullet whizzing past my head causes my face to burn and within seconds Dante knocks me to the ground, throwing his body over mine. An intense pain radiates through my body and a fresh pool of blood puddles under me.

  Chapter 13- Cal

  I pull my phone from my pocket to let Brie know I’m on my way to her but my battery flashes dead and powers down. With so many moving pieces in play and the baby due any day now, I hate that she can’t reach me if she needs to. I’m a family man now, living a dangerous life. I have to be more careful, there’s too much at stake.