Page 17 of Angelo’s Vengeance (The Commission #3)

ANGELO

Angelo

The trees looked like ghosts in the fog.

Spanish moss draped from the cypress branches like shredded silk, swaying in the humid Louisiana breeze.

The plantation loomed in the distance, a shadowy silhouette cloaked in moonlight—grand, stately, and harboring secrets.

It was the kind of place that whispered stories even when no one was there to listen.

I stood at the treeline, half-hidden in the underbrush, my Glock warm and familiar in my hand. My heart pounded a hard rhythm against my ribs, steady and unrelenting. I was accustomed to adrenaline. I lived for it and thrived in the chaos. But this? This was different.

Theo was in there. I could feel it in my bones.

"You good, Angelo?” Conall asked, stepping beside me. He resembled a damn war general, all muscle and calm menace, with a scoped rifle slung across his back. His men flanked him, shadows armed with guns and grim determination etched into their faces.

"I’ll be good when she’s out," I muttered, eyes never leaving the mansion.

Maxim joined us next, having exchanged his suit for sleek black tactical gear. His men moved like ghosts behind him—Volkov-trained killers who didn’t need orders to paint the night red.

“The security perimeter is tight,” he said with his gravelly Russian accent. “Men are on the balcony, and another four are patrolling the grounds. They aren’t amateurs. We’ll take the perimeter guards in advance. No guns.”

Conall motioned with two fingers, signaling the predetermined patrols, with his right-hand man, Sean, among them.

Sean was an absolute savage and was likely eager to get his hands dirty the old-fashioned way.

Maxim correctly believed that quietly taking down the perimeter guards was the best approach.

It was definitely a stealth job. The bloodier, the better, in Sean’s opinion.

"Makes sense," I said, my jaw clenched. “We can’t have random shots alerting people inside.” Renzetti wouldn’t use street rats for this type of operation, so they’d be professionals. But too bad for him; we were a match for whoever he’d brought out here.

Behind me, Ilias, Kostas, and Vaso were quietly and swiftly checking weapons as they spoke to each other in Greek. I didn’t understand much of it, but I heard Theo’s name mentioned several times. Her brothers were eager for blood. I didn’t blame them.

I was right there with them.

Bacco approached from the other side of the trail, wiping sweat from his brow.

The southern humidity was a slap in the face after the cool cabin air of the jet, and he was feeling it.

My consigliere wasn’t built for cardio or this kind of climate, and already he was showing his weaknesses.

Still, Bacco would push through when we got inside if he didn’t have a heart attack before we got there.

"Front and back entrances confirmed. No guards near the west side veranda. Veronica’s intel says the lower-level servants' quarters lead to a back stairwell. If she’s still locked up, it’ll probably be there."

I nodded once. "We go in quietly, sweep fast, and look for Theo.”

Ilias’s voice was cold steel. "If she’s been harmed?—"

"She’s fine,” I snapped. “She’ll be fine. Nothing will happen to her." I was going to will it into existence if I had to.

He stared at me for a long moment, and something passed between us—a silent agreement. Theo was family. His blood, my…

Something.

I shoved the thought away.

Not the time for emotions. I could think about it later.

Maxim stepped forward, checking the time on his watch.

"We hit in five. My men will breach the north wing. Conall’s crew will sweep the first floor and take out the guards.

You and your brothers? You go straight for her.

Get her out. I have backgrounds on the guests.

Some of them won’t be walking out alive.

If there are innocents there, we’ll see about relocating them. Then we burn it down. "

I couldn’t help but let a grin tug at the corner of my mouth. “That reminds me why I like working with you. You’re always going to burn something.”

Maxim didn’t smile. He simply loaded his weapon. “I thought it was because I was amazing and funny.”

“Yeah, none of those.” Conall cuffed him on the shoulder. “It’s because you’re the gun connection.”

I snapped my fingers. “That’s right,” I smirked at Maxim. While that wasn’t the only reason, it was a bonus. “We’re all about practicality. We don’t even like you. Much.”

“Right. You guys are all dicks.” He rolled his eyes at us.

The night was so dark I could just make out the whiteness of his teeth as he flashed me a grin.

We spread out, slipping through the dark like the kind of nightmares that made grown men cry. I moved with my team—Remo to my right, Bacco behind, Ilias flanking me. Kostas and Vaso brought up the rear.

The grass was slick with dew. I could smell jasmine and gun oil and hear the distant hum of laughter and music drifting from the open windows.

It made my blood boil. The fact that they were partying and laughing while having Theo in there against her will was more than infuriating.

Veronica had verified what kind of people these were. None of them should even be breathing.

Cocktail party.

For fucking slavers .

I would gut them all.

We reached the back veranda in silence, each footstep measured and careful.

I couldn’t believe we had made it without detection.

Our progress was completely unimpeded after the perimeter guards were taken out.

There hadn’t even been any outside cameras or alarms to disable.

Renzetti was either sloppy or overconfident, but if I were one of the attendees, I would be fucking pissed that security was so lax.

I was sure these people were paying a fortune to be here, which should include their protection while they were here.

However, it was making our job easier, so I shouldn’t complain.

Perhaps he thought I wouldn’t come for her—the volcano inside me boiled over at the idea that anyone would consider Theo unimportant.

Our dynamic was complicated even for us.

Maybe we hadn’t figured it out yet, but that was our business.

Guilt slicked over my insides at the thought that this was my fault.

Maybe she wouldn’t be in this mess if I hadn’t dragged my feet.

The door was unlocked. Too easy. Too confident.

We breached like a well-oiled machine. The guards were weak, surprised, and poorly trained.

Only two of them were on the door, and they died like paper mache puppets with their strings cut.

Remo and Bacco took point, clearing corners.

I swept left with Ilias and Vaso. The house was a museum of decadence—polished wood, antiques, and portraits with eyes that seemed to follow you.

The air was thick with perfume and decay.

It was one of those houses that felt permeated with it.

No matter how much paint you put on a pig, it was still there.

We found the staircase Veronica mentioned. It spiraled upward like something from a horror movie, narrow and claustrophobic. My boots thudded against each step as we climbed. Apparently, everyone was downstairs. Still, you’d think they would have some staff or security up here .

First door on the left. Locked.

I signaled to Vaso. He stepped forward with a silent nod, inserted a small charge, and stepped back.

Pop.

The door swung inward. Empty.

Second room. Same setup. I could feel my pulse throbbing in my neck. Empty.

“She’s downstairs,” Maxim’s voice came through our coms. “We captured one of the perimeter guards.”

“Fucking hell,” Ilias growled as we reversed our course pounding back the way we’d come.

"No shit," I growled. "Time to go make a scene."

We didn’t creep this time. We stormed and took out the guards as we went. We hit the ballroom like a bomb.

Conall’s men flooded in from the front, shouting in their heavy Irish accents, guns raised.

Maxim’s soldiers took out the balcony snipers in seconds.

I’d feel sorry for the party goers if they weren’t all dickwads who were going to be shot momentarily.

Renzetti’s personal guards reacted fast, but not fast enough.

I took down two before I reached the bottom of the stairs, gun barking fire with every shot.

Theo turned as chaos erupted around her, and for a heartbeat, our eyes locked. She didn’t appear afraid, but then everything tilted as a man with a mustache raised his weapon and a shot rang out. Her body jerked as the bullet tore through her.

"NO!" I roared, adrenaline shoving me forward.

She crumpled to her knees, clutching her chest, blood soaking through the silk of that goddamn dress. I opened fire in the direction of the shooter—some coward trying to blend into the panicked crowd.

Renzetti saw his opening. He slipped away like the snake he was, ducking behind an ornate column and disappearing through a service door while the chaos masked his escape.

“ Piccola , I’ve got you," I said, dropping to my knees. My hands were already on her, pressing hard against the wound. Blood coated my fingers. "Nice dress,” I added inanely.

She looked up at me, eyes blazing even through the pain. She scoffed. "I hate it. It’s off the rack.” She gave me a watery smile that was more of a grimace than anything. “Took you long enough.” Her eyes drifted closed with a sigh.

And just like that, the world narrowed.

I choked out a half-sobbing laugh. “Sorry, we’re late.”

Maxim appeared behind me, covering us with his rifle. "We need to move. Now. The crowd’s thinning, but we have movement on the east wing."

"Copy that," I growled. I swept Theo into my arms, carefully, blood still seeping from her wound — an alarming amount. She needed a hospital.

She whimpered but didn’t fight me. That alone scared the shit out of me. I could hear Ilias behind me, calling out Theo’s name, followed by Kostas shouting something I couldn’t make out. Conall’s men secured the exits while Maxim’s soldiers ensured no one followed.

But Renzetti was gone.

Slippery bastard.

As we reached the outside, the night hit us like a wall—humid, hot, thick with gunpowder and smoke.

We moved through the wreckage together—through the chaos of bullets and bodies, through Maxim’s men pulling out the guests and forcing them to their knees as they compared faces to pictures on their phones.

Orders were being barked, but I remained singularly focused.

Theo needed a hospital. The others could manage the cleanup.