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MAEL

Finding the head of the Camorra wasn’t hard.

In fact, I was almost disgusted by just how easy it had been for me to find the fucker and follow his moves for the past three days.

He was a man in his early fifties, walking around with an air of arrogance that usually only came with age for men in his position.

Men in the game never expected to live long. It was a blessing to get past thirty-five, a little harder if you were higher up in rank, like Miguel Gallo.

But the man had already entered his fifties, and his greed didn’t seem to have faded over time. If anything, it seemed to have intensified. He guarded his position with a vise grip. Even if there had been chatter of unease from his men that he should step down, should have stepped down decades ago and let his oldest son run his empire, I doubted he would do just that.

I stayed hidden in the shadows between two buildings as I watched his heavyset frame walk down the streets, his two guard dogs following behind him.

I shook my head. Even the men he had around to guard him had been oblivious to my presence. It was a fucking wonder no one had killed the fucker.

I supposed his reputation protected him well. He had been ruthless when he was younger.

Now…

I just wanted to get this done and move on to the next part of the plan.

I watched as the three men entered a shabby strip club in the one part of the city that the Camorra actually ruled over. The women who worked here were all part of the Camorra’s property. I’m sure they wouldn’t lose any sleep over Gallo’s impending demise.

No, they would probably cry tears of joy. But for now, it was all fake, happy smiles as some of them greeted him by the door.

I knew he was here to see Myra, his favorite stripper. It didn’t matter that the fucker had a wife of twenty-five years back at home. At this point, I was sure the missus probably preferred him coming here than touching her.

I watched as the door closed behind them, leaving me standing in the street by myself.

I didn’t think the guards would hold that much of a challenge. It wasn’t like they would be with him while he had his fun.

This made it the perfect time to attack. The only problem was ensuring Myra didn’t scream and alert everyone around.

Or hell, maybe her screaming for the entire club to hear might be a good thing. With the way I was feeling, I needed something more to help abate this unsettled sensation inside me than to just sneak up on the fucker while he was fucking someone else. Taking on his guard dogs could do the trick.

I shook my head and pushed out of the alley, keeping my head low, and went straight for the strip club. There were cameras around. I knew that. Gallo could be careless when it came to his safety, his arrogance ensured that, but he wasn’t stupid.

I moved to the side of the building and looked around for a way to climb up to the third floor. A metal dumpster nearby was perfect. I closed one of the lids and hoisted myself on top of it, trying to make as little noise as possible. It helped that New York was never quiet.

Even now, I could hear the honk of a car in the distance. That sound worked as a distraction when I jumped and reached for the windowsill protruding from the outside. My muscles strained as I used that to pull myself up. Thankfully, the window was closed, and the room I came to was empty. I stayed close to the wall, keeping in the shadows as booming laughter hit my ears.

I watched Miguel walk up the stairs, his arms around a curvy woman I assumed was Myra. Fucker was telling a joke. A bad one. She still laughed and playfully slapped him on the chest.

They walked into one room, far from where I was standing. I waited for a long while. I didn’t think the fucker was into foreplay, but hell, what did I know? I crossed my arms and focused on the loud, vibrating beat of the music on the first floor, feeling it through my shoes. My heart slowed, and everything seemed calmer.

I needed to keep my head on straight. I moved when the song reached its climax.

I pushed the door open wide enough for me to slip through, taking in the dimly lit room. It was much quieter here than it was outside. The only sound came from the grunts and moans of the two people on the bed and the thump, thump, thump of the headboard hitting the wall every time the fucker thrust.

Perfect. The sound gave me enough indication to time where he was at.

I got further into the room and found the bed right away. It was a huge king-size bed that took up the front and center of the room. Gallo’s back was to me, and I could see shapely legs wrapped around his waist.

I pulled out my blade and walked closer to the bed. Myra’s eyes caught my face. I plunged the knife into Gallo’s back before she could scream for help.

The fucker let out a roar in pain as he twisted around and met my face, my blade still protruding from his back.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked.

I grinned but didn’t answer him. What would it matter if he knew who I was? He was a dead man at this point.

He charged at me. Fast for someone with a knife in his back. But not fast enough. I sidestepped at the last moment, watching as he stumbled slightly before he was able to maintain his balance.

He turned to me and threw the first punch. His fist caught me on my lips. Metal hit my tongue, driving up my adrenaline.

I cupped my jaw, trying to assess whether or not anything was broken. Lia was going to hate seeing my busted lip later. Now, normally, I wouldn’t care about leaving any marks, but I knew Lia was fond of my face. The fact this might affect her was affecting me.

I lunged and tackled him to the floor.

He landed on his back, pushing the knife deeper and deeper inside him. Blood pooled beneath us, and I could tell he was moments away from taking his last breath on earth as his eyes glazed over.

He reached his hands up and wrapped them around my neck, trying to lodge me off him and give him the advantage.

He surprisingly had considerable strength despite being moments away from death, but it wasn’t enough to help him. It was far too late for him.

He should have known that.

I pulled his hands away and punched him in the face. Blood spurted from his nose as I pressed my hands down on his chest, pushing the knife deep inside. He jolted beneath me from the pressure as his muscles finally gave out. His hands fell to the floor, covered in his blood.

I pushed off him and looked at Myra on the bed, her brown eyes widening in fright, the sheets covered over her chest.

We stood there, not saying anything to each other for a moment.

I knew enough about the mob to know she would be blamed for this.

It didn’t matter that she wasn’t the one to kill him. She was one insignificant woman in this world, and it usually didn’t fucking bother me, but fuck…

Lia’s brown eyes flashed through my head.

Falling in love was such a troublesome thing.

I knew that from the start. I tried to fight with myself, saying it wasn’t love but obsession. I tried to tell myself that a man like me couldn’t possibly fall in love, but that wasn’t true.

I wasn’t even fucking sure if there was a difference between love and obsession anymore.

I let out a small sigh and pulled out my phone, putting a call in to Theo. He answered on the first ring.

“I need you to do a pickup at the usual location.”

“On it,” he said, hanging up.

I turned back to Myra and waited until she was looking into my eyes.

“Listen to me, and listen good. I’m only going to say this once. You’re going to get the blame for this shit.”

She flinched but didn’t say anything because she knew it was true.

Those two guards would eventually realize their boss wasn’t coming down after he finished, and they would soon come up to find a headless body and a traumatized expression on a whore.

I looked around for a piece of paper and wrote down the address of the safe place Theo and I had set up long ago. It was a meeting point in case we were ever separated.

“You’ll go here,” I said, handing the paper over to her. She took it and looked down at it numbly.

I let out a small sigh. “We don’t have a lot of time, so tell me you understand what I’m saying, girl.”

She nodded.

“Good,” I grunted out. “Go there. My brother Theo will meet you there. Tell him I sent you to him, and he’ll set you up with a new life. New identity and enough money to last you for a few years, understand?”

“W-What?” She looked up at me, surprised.

“Do you understand?”

“You’re going to help me escape?”

I shrugged. “Help” was too deep of a word. I was simply setting things up in her path. “You have a choice. You always have a choice. You can take what I offer you, or you can stay here and deal with the Camorra.”

She didn’t wait for me to finish speaking before she was already climbing off the bed, letting the sheets fall down her body, and getting dressed.

I waited for her to pack a few things. “Ready?” I asked when she came over with a bag.

She nodded. “Good. Let’s go.”

We couldn’t have gotten out of there the same way I had gotten in, considering the girl didn’t look like she could handle much at the moment without falling apart completely.

I took off my sweatshirt and gave it to her, pulling the hood over her head.

I waited until she looked at me. “Don’t look up. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Walk, don’t run, three blocks away from here and hail a taxi.” I shoved some money into her hand. “Don’t hesitate. Just go. And don’t rest until you get to the secure location, understand?”

“Th-Thank you. No one… no one has ever cared enough to help?—”

Fucking hell. I looked up to hide my exasperation. The last thing I needed was her sentiment. I turned away and opened the door, looking around. The hallway was dark and empty. Perfect. All the partying was downstairs, which meant no one would be paying attention to her.

I turned back to find the girl already close behind me.

“Go,” I said, pushing her out.

She left and did as I asked, not looking back.

I went back into the room and got started, pulling out the sharp blade attached to my back. I pulled off the cover of the blade, the silver glinting in the light.

Then I got to work.

* * *

Late at night, Giovanni Tacchini could be found in his home, a fortress on its own, with guards posted in almost every corner. Sneaking in here was harder than getting into the strip club run by the Camorra, made even harder with the eleven-pound package in my hand.

I could hear it dripping.

Annoyance ran through me at the prospect of having any liquid from Gallo on me.

What a fucking inconvenience. I wouldn’t have bothered doing so much if I hadn’t wanted to leave an impression behind.

I got into the quiet house.

It was late.

Everyone had probably gone to bed, but not dear old Giovanni.

He was in his office, smoking a cigar, a habit well-known in his small circle. Didn’t he know predictability only made him an easy target?

Or perhaps, like Gallo, old age had made him arrogant.

Might make him a little harder to deal with than I had anticipated.

I sauntered into his office, catching him off guard.

“What the fuck?” he shouted, pulling his gun on me. The man was quick—I’d give him that.

I grinned. “Put that away and let’s talk, Tacchini.”

“Talk?” he asked carefully. “You came into my house, my office, and you want to talk? You’re fucking lucky I didn’t put a bullet in your head on sight.”

I shrugged. “You could have. Then you would have missed out on an opportunity to work with me.”

“Yeah? And why the fuck would I want to work with you?”

I didn’t answer him. I threw the package on his desk. Red liquid slowly ran out of the box I kept it in and seeped onto the stack of papers he had there.

He looked down at it, then back at me.

“A little gift from me.”

He didn’t say anything for a beat. I let my arms rest casually at my sides to show I wasn’t carrying any weapons. He held the gun with one hand and opened the package with the other.

I watched his face as he inspected the little present.

Miguel Gallo’s head.

The fucker’s eyes were half opened, his skin sagging a bit from not being attached to his body. What an unsightly fucker.

“What do you want?” he asked finally.

“I want in on the skin deal,” I said.

He tapped his finger on the surface of his desk. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I run a legitimate business. No skin deal.”

“Cut the bullshit, Tacchini. We both know you’ve got your nasty little fingers in all sorts of pies. All I ask is a small piece. It’s not too greedy, is it?”

He smiled, obviously enjoying this conversation. Good. I got him right where I wanted him.

He looked back down at the head. “How did you manage to cut off the head of the capo dei capi of the Camorra?” he asked.

I shook my head. “That’s not for you to know. You did say you’ll give out favors to anyone who can bring you his head, no?”

He chuckled darkly. “I said that to my men. Men who had sworn their lives and loyalty to me. I don’t even know your name.”

“You can call me Beckett. And you’re right. I haven’t pledged to you.” And I didn’t fucking plan on pledging to the fucker. “But I know you’ve made an exception before.”

Both Leo Briggs and Luckas Whitlock were considered outsiders. Giovanni Tacchini had no problem bringing them in.

“Beckett,” he repeated as if testing the name out. “Okay. I’ll give you a little taste.”

He leaned down and pulled out a sticky note on his desk, writing something down and handing it over to me. The corners were tinged with Gallo’s blood.

“Come to this address this Saturday at three o’clock. Don’t be late.”

I nodded, tapping my knuckles on the desk once before turning away and walking out the door, showing him my back.

“Oh, and Beckett?”

I twisted my head around. “Yeah?”

“I want the son’s head, too,” he said, pointing to Gallo.

I didn’t say anything. I slowly walked out of his office, smiling.

Things were finally picking up.