Page 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Enrique

“If anything happens while you’re upstairs, you come here, Ellie. Hit this button, and the alert will go out to all of us.”

I point to the panic button in my panic room.

“Daddy, I know. You explained the button and everything else while you showed me the room downstairs. I grew up in a house with a panic room, and I raised my kids in a house with one. I have one in the house I live in now.”

“You do?”

“Of course.”

“Where is it?”

“The door is at the back of the hall closet. There are stairs taking you down to the basement and directly through a reinforced door to a soundproof, concrete room. The boys and I built it when I moved in.”

“I was going to say that definitely wasn’t part of the original blueprints.”

“Even a turnkey property needs some personal touches.”

“I hate leaving you here, but I prefer you and Constantine be here while I’m gone.”

God bless José. He’s one of my most senior guards and every animal’s favorite person. He slipped over to Ellie’s car and got Constantine out while we dealt with our unwanted guests. He took the dog around back and kept him occupied. Though even José wasn’t enough to keep Constantine’s attention when Ellie walked out to the patio.

The poor dog has glued himself to Ellie ever since he raced over to her. He nearly knocked her over when he reared back onto his hind legs, but he was so gentle when he put his paws on her shoulders and rested his head on one of them. He truly hugged her. He’s closer to my height when he stands up like that. He’s a few inches taller than Ellie who’s about five-six.

Between a panic room off the butler’s pantry and the one up here in my bedroom, and her dog, I’m calm enough to leave. I need to get to my sister, but I couldn’t leave Ellie without being certain she’s safe. I want to tell her to lock herself in one of these rooms until I get back, but I won’t keep her a prisoner. I trust my men, but thinking Matías betrayed me is fucking with my head. I’m less trusting than I was.

“Daddy, you’re going to keep everyone waiting. I’m certain they’re all dressed and geared up now.”

“I know.”

We step back into my bedroom, and I push the clothes in my closet back into place. I rush to change into a fresh set of black utility pants, black turtleneck, and black boots. I glance over my shoulder and find Ellie staring at my ass.

“What?” She sounds completely unrepentant.

“Come here, little girl.”

I wrap my arms around her and kiss her in a way I will never do in public. It threatens to wipe all thoughts of my duty to my family from my mind.

That’s a first.

We rest our foreheads together when we come up for air, then I kiss hers before pressing her head to my chest.

“Ellie, I’ll be home as soon as I can. I need you to know I will do anything to get to you. I have very few limits to begin with, but there’s nothing I won’t do to be with you. I need you to understand how deeply I care about you.”

She leans back, and our gazes meet.

“Don’t make me come looking for you, Enrique. There’s nothing I won’t do to bring you home.”

That’s not hyperbole with Ellie. I knew what she could do before seeing her tonight. But that wasn’t the same as witnessing it. I hated every moment she was in danger, but I can’t help how impressed I am. She’s a professional through and through, so I remind myself of that as I lead her back downstairs.

Almost everyone is waiting for us, including Luis. I spotted him as I took Ellie upstairs. It surprises me to see Luciana and Margherita coming out of the kitchen. I glance over at Luis who frowns.

My sisters approach us, and I sense Ellie’s wariness.

“Elodie, we wait together when we can, so we have each other. We didn’t think you should have to be alone.”

Margherita offers her a glass of guaro , a favorite Colombian drink made of sugarcane and distilled spirits that looks a bit like brandy. Its official name is aguardiente —fiery water—since it’s nearly thirty percent alcohol.

Ellie sniffs it, then smiles. She raises her glass to Margherita and Luciana, who join them.

“ Salud .” Health.

She offers the toast before downing the drink in one swallow. I expect her to cough or shiver or at least curl her nose up at the anise-tasting liquid that’s surelyburning a hole the length of her throat. I hate the stuff. She hands the glass back to Margherita without batting an eye.

“We’ll leave the ninos home the next time we go out drinking.” Luciana gestures at her sons, nephews, Luis, and me.

“Mama.” Three exasperated voices grumble from the landing above us, and Ellie giggles.

“Ana don’t?—”

“Your sisters won’t corrupt me. It’s far too late for that.” Ellie winks at me.

“I’m glad you won’t be alone, little one.”

“Me, too. Be careful, Enrique. I didn’t give in just to lose you the moment I did.”

I pull her back into my arms as Luis kisses Margherita. I always feel badly for Luciana when Luis and Matías say goodbye to their wives. I used to stand with her, my arm around her shoulders as we watched what she’d lost. Now she’s alone, and it makes me wonder if she’ll ever remarry.

But it’s only a moment later that Tres J’s barrel down the stairs from getting changed in the bedrooms they have upstairs and elbow each other to get to their mama while Pablo engulfs Margherita. When the boys are done with their mama, Luis and I hug Luciana, too. Then I do the same with Margherita. I get one last kiss with Ellie, then we head out the door.

“You never lingered over your goodbyes with Daniela.”

I shift my gaze to Luis as we step off the stoop together. “I didn’t love her.”

Luis’s expression hardens, and his eyes narrow. He blames Ellie for Catalina’s kidnapping. I don’t blame Ellie, but I know she’s the reason. Blame implies Ellie played an intentional role in this.

“Luis, you didn’t see Ellie tonight. You didn’t see what she risked to save my life, to get me here to all of you. You didn’t see how she handled the interrogation that got us the information we need. She could have saved herself and forsaken me. She could have let me work those men over and possibly gotten nothing. I didn’t recognize either of them, and I haven’t even heard of them. I could have guessed they had children and tried that approach, but she knew details. She insisted—in front of the men—and I’m glad she did. She knows this world. She knew what she risked disagreeing with me, but she risked my rejection to help us. Don’t blame her for something she didn’t do.”

“She caused all of this.”

“No, I did. I caused it by wanting her beside me. Place the blame where it belongs. With me.”

“Believe me, I do. She’s just not free of it.”

We arrive at the first SUV, and I look at Javier and Jorge. They’re studiously looking anywhere but at their uncles. They’re used to Luis and me disagreeing in front of them, but they’ve never heard us argue about a woman—my woman.

“Take it up with me. Don’t hold it against her.”

Joaquin, Pablo, Alejandro, and Matías climb into the second SUV. We have two more with men already waiting inside them. I walk around to the far side and climb in as Luis joins me in the second row. We remain quiet as a vehicle pulls in front of us, sandwiching the two SUVs with my immediate family in the middle. When we get on the highway, we’ll drive four abreast. This protects us from the sides, allowing Javier and Joaquin to speed or slow as needed if we’re chased. It’s more dangerous for a car to pull alongside us and try to push us off the road.

Our SUVs are tanks the government should copy. The entire frame and all the windows are bulletproof. The undercarriage is caged with metal plates to protect against Improvised Explosive Devices—IEDs. The tires will roll enough when punctured so we can keep going even after driving over spikes.

All Four Families have vehicles like these for missions. We use the same customizer, and the shop is like the DMZ between North and South Korea—not big enough to stop anyone but an agreed upon neutral area. The only way to tell the families’ vehicles—SUVs, town cars, and limos—apart is by the hubcaps. They’re personalized, so in a rush, we don’t confuse them and wind up with the wrong family if we’re running.

“Enrique, you’re blinded by charm and a nice pair of?—”

“Say it, and I’ll beat you for the first time in our lives.”

“Eyes. Don’t be disgusting. I’m not looking at any woman but my wife.”

My brother’s getting me riled up enough I’m the one being an ass.

“I’m sorry. I understand your concerns and your distrust of Ellie, but I don’t appreciate your distrust in me. I have served our family since I could walk and talk. I’ve never put myself first, and I’m not doing it now. But my duty doesn’t mean I have to grow old alone. I married a woman for the sake of this family, and I bore the humiliation of an unfaithful wife for the sake of an alliance. You will not begrudge me loving a woman who’s been more loyal to me in the couple months I’ve known her than my wife was in the years we were married.”

“Loyal? She didn’t tell you who she was when you confessed who you were.”

“That’s not disloyalty. That’s self-preservation. I’m not alone, and I’m not a woman. If Margherita were in her position, would you expect her to confess to you her family ties when you have an entire army at your disposal? When you have more wealth than many countries? When you control one of the most powerful empires in the world? I don’t blame Ellie for keeping her secrets to protect her family, herself, and even me. I don’t blame her for being wary when she purposely left this life behind, and I marched in and dragged her back into it.”

“She could have said no.”

“And you could say yes.”

We stare at each other at an impasse. It’s rare we’re at odds, but I won’t back down on this. If I could forsake my duty to be with Ellie, I would. But I can’t, and she would never let me.

We turn away from each other and stare out our windows for the rest of the ride to Hoboken. It’s just as well we finished arguing because Alejandro briefs us along the way. All four sets of headlights go off when we’re three blocks out. We turned off our phones before leaving my neighborhood. We’ll rely on our radios again. There are sixty-five Amerindian languages spoken in Colombia, and my family speaks one of the most obscure. Macaguán’s spoken by only a handful of people in a remote part of the extreme north near the Venezuelan border. We use it when we’re on missions because no one will understand us.

All Four Families revert to their native languages when they don’t want anyone to understand them, but Spanish is too prevalent in America. It makes nothing a secret, so our family has preserved the indigenous language passed down over many generations from our ancestors before they migrated to Bogotá. We use it in Colombia too since as few as five hundred people speak it.

“Ready.”

Alejandro’s voice fills my ear. As our chief strategist, he’s already planned the mission. It’s also his mother we’re rescuing. Matías is with us, but he’s injured. He’ll stay back with the vehicles with two other guards. I still need to speak to him about what happened, and until I do, I don’t want him in the middle of this.

Javier hands me my rifle, and I fall into formation. Alejandro takes the lead, but I’m right behind him. I’ll never send anyone ahead of me. The only person ever in front of me is the mission leader. When we’re in the thick of things, I’m just another fighter. We protect each other equally.

When my nephews were younger and still training, they believed they had to put me ahead of everyone else because of my role. I made it clear everyone is equal during missions. No one sacrifices someone else for me. The best way they can show their loyalty is to protect each other. That lesson’s saved all of us at some point.

We’re wearing our NVGs, so everything is black and green. We move in formation as the teams fan out when the warehouse is in front of us. We break off, going to our designated entrances. I’m with Alejandro and Joaquin. Javier and Jorge work as partners, and Luis and Pablo are a pair. They’re so much alike it’s like watching one man with two bodies. They never need to speak, just knowing what the other needs or will do. They gravitate to each other when Luis goes on missions. When he’s away and can’t, then Pablo and Alejandro partner.

I watch Joaquin with his lock picking kit as he gets the front door open. I wait for an alarm or for the door to at least squeak. Nothing. My nephews and I ease inside and look around. There’s a heavy chemical odor that saturates the air. This isn’t some place to spend much time without a mask. It makes finding Catalina imperative.

Alejandro taps my left shoulder, and I look over at him. He points to a door with a sign saying Office beside it. I nod. His cursory investigation showed no property records for this building, and there wasn’t time for Joaquin to dig more. We need to know who owns this place.

Once more, Joaquin jimmies the lock. Immediately, the three of us set to work getting filing cabinets open. Alejandro and I both have our lock kits, too. We comb through documents, and it’s only a couple minutes before all three of us look up with a paper in our hands.

“O’Rourkes.” Alejandro says it, and Joaquin and I agree.

“What the fuck do they want with your mama? What do they have to do with Ellie?”

I’m going to fucking murder Dillan O’Rourke. I don’t give a damn what the rules are about putting hits on your peers. I don’t give a fuck about maintaining a balance of power. That juemadre —the Colombian slang for son of a bitch—targeted two women in my family. I’ll fucking kill the entire O’Rourke clan.

“Trash it.”

We work together to pull apart the office. We yank filing cabinets apart, the drawers strewn across the room. Joaquin shoots the fire detector and the sprinklers before we set fire to the papers in the drawers, counting on the metal to contain them long enough for us to get to the others and get Catalina out. We’ve heard nothing on our radios, so no one’s found her yet. I’m the last one out of the office, so I lock the door behind us.

We creep toward the main floor just as voices fill the air. My nephews and I sprint forward, entering the expansive storage area as the first round of gunfire unleashes. I shove Alejandro, who bumps into Joaquin. The three of us dive behind a stack of barrels. We ease around them, flanking men I don’t recognize. If this doesn’t end fast, a stray bullet’s likely to cause something to explode.

My men outnumber them two to one. Our enemy’s quickly picked off, but the clear leader is cornered with three of my guys blocking his escape. I recognize him. As I approach, Pablo’s voice fills my ear with one word in Macaguán .

“Found.”

I look over my shoulder at Alejandro and tilt my head in the direction we came. He takes off to find his mother. Joaquin and I keep our rifles raised as we step around my men.

“Gareth O’Brien, what the fuck are you doing in Hoboken? I thought Seamus made it clear your ass is to never leave Trenton again.”

“I don’t take orders from Seamus O’Rourke.”

“Yeah, you do, but if you’re here, does that mean Dillan orchestrated this?”

Gareth O’Brien is young. He’s still pretty new to his position as Trenton’s mob boss. His father died, and it was a blessing to the world. But Gareth still has a lot to learn, and he’s in the shit up to his eyeballs with the O’Rourkes. The O’Briens were already the O’Rourkes vassals. They became mere peons after Seamus practically castrated them for the shit they allowed to happen to the woman Seamus fell in love with. He’s just as protective of his wife as any of the other married syndicate men. They must be working their way back into Dillan’s good books.

Shame Gareth won’t live long enough to do that.

“Fuck off, Enrique.”

“He thinks he has balls, tío . Should I shoot him and find out?” Javier joins us along with Jorge.

“Not yet.”

That doesn’t stop me from swinging my rifle around and thrusting the butt into his junk. He doubles over and gags but says nothing. I drive my right fist into his face when he bends forward. The force sends him sailing backward.

“Why did Dillan set this up? Why my sister?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Dumb fuck.

“Yes. That’s why I’m asking. You’re proving nothing but your stupidity by being evasive. Tell me, and we can come to some resolution that allows you to live. You’ll be my bitch now, but you’ll survive. Keep testing my patience, and I’ll torture you for days before I hack you to pieces and send them to Dillan one at a time.”

That doesn’t strike fear in him the way it should. That tells me a lot. He doesn’t fear failing Dillan. If this was Dillan’s operation, and I let Gareth live, then Dillan would go after him. That should make him more than a little nervous.

“It’s not Dillan, is it?”

“Didn’t take you long.”

“Then who is it?”

Gareth’s lip curls in disgust, but he says nothing.

Very well.

“Hold out his right arm.”

Javier and Jorge step forward to follow my command. I withdraw a knife from my belt. This isn’t some pocketknife. It’s not a switchblade. It’s like a miniature machete.

“You gonna cut off my hand first?”

Gareth’s going to wish that’s what I planned. It’s my turn to remain silent. I need not say anything, since my men know what I’m doing as I step in front of him. I put the blade at a forty-five-degree angle at his wrist while Jorge holds his now bare arm still. When I press, Gareth realizes I don’t plan to amputate.

I intend to fillet.

The blade breaks the skin, and I push it toward Gareth. He releases a blood-curdling scream as I work the knife up his forearm. The knife’s sharp enough to peel him like a tomato. I see it more like peeling a mango.

“Stop!”

“Tell me who.”

My demand’s met with silence. I move back to his wrist, ready to begin another cut. I pause, giving him a chance. He remains quiet. Who does he fear more than the pain he’s experiencing?

“Who’d you fuck over worse than the O’Rourkes? You’re working off a debt to someone else.”

“I can’t say.”

“Why not?”

“You’re only going to kill me. They’ll kill my family for my failure. They’ll torture them if I narc on them to you.”

That doesn’t narrow it down by much. Any syndicate would do that. But there are only two that would risk fucking with another syndicate’s vassal. Both could have reason to target Ellie. Both have reason to target me. It shocks me that either would take my sister.

I pull out my phone and turn it on. My GPS is off, so that helps minimize the risk someone could track me. I wish we had jammers. I tap a number in my contacts.

“What do you want?”

“Always a pleasant greeting, Dillan. Gareth took my sister.”

“What?”

I tap the speaker button and hold the phone out to Gareth, who looks like he’s barely able to keep from peeing himself. His arm’s gushing blood that’s pooling at his feet.

“Gareth took Catalina and brought her to your warehouse in Hoboken.”

“Feck him up, but that piece of shite is mine, Enrique. We had nothing to do with this. I get to punish him for setting us up.”

“If he survives, then I’ll drop him someplace you can find.”

“Not good enough. Gareth, you better fecking live through whatever hell Enrique puts you through because you do not want what I have planned for you happening to Callum.”

Gareth isn’t married and has no children. His heir is a second cousin, who’s—who was—far more fit to lead. The shit that happened between Seamus and Gareth’s family changed the O’Brien family dynamics. Everyone hoped Callum could talk sense into Gareth, but apparently he didn’t. The guy’s lying dead ten feet from me.

“You’re too late for that, Dillan. Callum’s dead. Alejandro shot him.”

“Then you definitely owe me Gareth. Keep him alive, Enrique. I’m going back to sleep. Call me to arrange the handoff when you’re done.”

Dillan hangs up before I can argue. Arrogant little shit. But I don’t blame him for wanting to sleep next to his wife more than deal with this.

“Save me the time of making two more calls. Save yourself the pain of me hacking off more of you while I do.”

I hand my phone to Joaquin. I turn my knife away from Gareth and use both hands to rip his button-down shirt open. I place the blade just above his left nipple and break the skin. His eyes roll back as I slice. Joaquin’s hand swipes through the air before it lands against Gareth’s cheek, reviving him.

“My uncle didn’t say you could pass out. Wake up.”

“Call Pasha.”

Is it a coincidence they were already giving me a hard time? Was the bratva already watching Ellie before I met her? Did they figure out she took out Ignacio?

“It’s the middle of the fucking night, Enrique. What do you want?”

Doesn’t anyone say hello anymore?

“Why’d you take my sister, Pasha?”

“Which one?”

“Not funny.”

“No. Seriously. Which sister? You must blame me if you’re calling, but I don’t know what the fuck’s going on.”

“Yes, you do. You’re striking out at me for Ignacio.”

“That wasn’t you. I heard some hired gun did it.”

“You’re getting back at me for my connection to that mercenary.”

“You hired Ignacio’s killer?”

That perks him up.

“No, but I know the person.”

“He’s one of your friends?”

He .

Is Pasha playing me?

Most likely.

“You could say that. What do you know about the mercenary?”

“He’s the only one as good as Robert Simms.”

The man was a ghost. He kept most of his money under his mattress and wouldn’t use anything more advanced than a flip phone. He operated for more than thirty years, but he went too far with the Mancinellis. He paid the price for it with a few bullets through him. I heard about it second-hand, but I’m certain the story was downplayed not exaggerated.

“Better.”

“Is that pride I hear?”

“Respect.”

“Anton has a theory about who it is.”

Here we go. His brother oversees their men’s day-to-day assignments. He’s as big as Alejandro and nearly as smart. He’s a trained computer programmer and isn’t a half bad hacker. It’s his best friend, Sergei, who’s the master hacker in that family. He heads their intelligence gathering.

“What does your big brother have to say?”

“The woman you’re dating went out of town at the same time Alejandro went to Brazil. While she’s gone, Ignacio and Benicio wind up dead. Alejandro lives. You ordered the hit on my wife’s uncle. You used Alejandro as a decoy to make me think you weren’t responsible for it.”

I remain silent when he pauses for dramatic effect.

“Your girlfriend’s flight landed in Rio. On the way home, she stopped in the Caymans. Are you dating her because she threatened to kill you if you didn’t put out?”

“Tread lightly, Pasha.”

“She’s a beautiful woman. You’ve had a drought for a decade.”

I’m merely more discreet than the rest of them.

“I can’t blame you for falling for her. Has she been busting your balls?”

“So, you know who she is.”

“Yup.”

He was fucking with me, saying “he” at first.

“Is that why you were watching her before she and I even met?”

“What’re you talking about?”

“The photos.”

“What photos? She wasn’t on anyone’s radar until you couldn’t keep away from her and her dog. He reminds me of Sebastian.”

“The photos you sent her. The ones from the car parked on her street before she and I met.”

“Whatever photos you’re talking about, no one in my family is responsible for them. We don’t fuck around like that. That’s your family’s MO.”

“He’s been gone a long time.”

Luis and Margherita’s other son, Juan. My heart aches thinking about him. He broke the cardinal rule that women and children are off limits because his childhood crush—Sebastian’s owner—broke his heart by falling in love with and marrying Pasha’s cousin. It didn’t help that Maksim is the bratva’s pakhan —my equivalent.

“But your family didn’t learn from him fast enough.”

“Don’t deflect. You know who she is to me. You targeted her.”

“No. I didn’t.”

“She was involved in your in-laws’ deaths, and you want me to believe you aren’t getting revenge?”

“I’ve been busy comforting my wife. Your woman did a job, but she wasn’t interesting enough to spare a second thought while my wife and her family grieve.”

“Then who?”

I know the only other possibility.

“Who the fuck do you think? Call them and let me go back to sleep.”

He must have slipped out of his room to discuss this with me because he would never talk about this in front of Sumiko.

Dillan and Pasha are both with their wives, and I’m still chasing down who kidnapped my sister instead of being in bed with the woman I’ll make my wife not soon enough.

“Enrique, is your sister all right?”

An ounce of humanity.

“I haven’t seen her yet, but no one’s told me she’s hurt.”

“Then take her home and deal with you know who in the morning.”

He must be back in his bedroom. A bed creaking confirms it.

“Goodnight, Pasha.”

“Night.”

There’s not a fucking chance in hell I’m waiting until morning to deal with Salvatore Mancinelli.