Page 26 of Taken by the Mafia King (Kings of Philly #1)

KILLIAN

N o one would assume anything about tonight was abnormal. My men moved between the crates stacked nearly to the ceiling while others mingled in small groups, the air thick with cigarette smoke.

I moved toward the open bay of the main warehouse. It sat on a property I owned across the city from my house. Not too close, not too far. Alonzo had been right. Giuseppe’s revenge for his father’s death at my hands would happen tonight, right here, any minute now.

I imagined his guys were already waiting somewhere in the tree line surrounding the trio of warehouses.

I glanced up at the twinkling starlight and ripple of golden haze drifting up from Philadelphia in the distance before turning my back to the garage bay and walking toward the back of the warehouse, where Tommaso, Francesco, and Mikey were waiting.

“Tonight might be the night for you, Mikey,” I said with little warmth as I checked my watch. “Get one of these fuckers alone and gut them, and I’ll make you a caporegime.”

Mikey bit back the smile threatening to spread across his face, but Francesco and Tommaso remained grim and silent.

Francesco’s phone rang like a death knell. He raised the phone to his ear and I waited. Alonzo’s voice crackled with static, but his words were clear.

They’re coming in hot. Be ready .

I whistled long and sharp. It was all my men needed to hear to move into position, their bodies hidden behind the crates as the lights shut off and silence fell thick and heavy.

The cigarette smoke danced over the concrete floor as I slipped behind a shipping container.

Tommaso was poised and ready across from me, his gun clenched in his hand.

I slowly pulled my gun from its holster when I heard the first car roll into the gravel lot and skid to a stop. Raised voices and shouts of ruddy amusement were followed by three more vehicles arriving. Headlights illuminated the open bay where we waited in the dark.

“These fucking idiots left one of their bays open,” came an unfamiliar voice. “Ricci’s slipping.”

I smirked, catching Tommaso’s eyes through the dark.

“If he keeps his stash unguarded like this, you bet your ass he doesn’t even have dogs guarding that Bianchi whore, Boss,” came a second unfamiliar voice in the distance. My blood boiled as laughs shuddered through the darkness and several figures stepped into the warehouse.

Like rats in a trap.

“That’ll be our next stop,” Giuseppe de Luca replied, sounding more than a little bored. “Light it up. This one goes first. Then set fire to the next two. I don’t want anything left but ash.”

I stepped out of the darkness, my gun tucked behind my back. An audible hush of surprise swept across the warehouse as I startled Giuseppe and the six men he’d brought with him.

I tilted my head to the side, smiling like the demon they knew me to be.

As if on cue, the bay door shut and snapped closed, locking them inside with the Mano Della Morte.

“Shit,” one of Giuseppe’s guys hissed as he backed up a step.

Giuseppe, on the other hand, fumed, pure rage burning behind his dark brown eyes.

“I take offense to you assuming I’d gotten sloppy.” I rolled my shoulders and then my neck. Crack . They cocked their pistols and pointed them at me, but Giuseppe hadn’t even touched his gun yet. Through the wall of adamant rage I noticed a sliver of regret, maybe even fear behind his eyes.

I grinned. “I think you boys are lost.”

One of my men jumped out of the darkness and all hell broke loose.

Gunshots rained down, coming from all directions, and I sidestepped out of the path of dozens of bullets.

More of Giuseppe’s men forced their way through what remained of the garage door to the left of the bay we’d kept unlocked for this very purpose.

Let the gunfire draw them to their deaths.

Trap them in a warehouse filled with empty crates and old storage containers.

Cut off their exits, and burn the place to the ground just like Giuseppe had planned.

Why?

Because every other boss would see just how far I was willing to go, and just how much I’d sacrifice, to keep what was mine.

Burning down my own warehouse with my enemies inside was child’s play. I’d do worse if I had to. Hell, I had done worse.

“Where the fuck did he go?” Giuseppe bellowed through the smoke.

Tommaso moved beside me as we wove through the crates and debris, our guns firing with practiced accuracy, darkened figures falling in the wake of our bullets.

My right-hand man disappeared into the smoke and gunfire as I charged forward into the fray. Not many bosses fought beside their crew. I had to give credit where credit was due. Giuseppe was here, which meant he was already twice the boss his father was.

The bay door rose, and the grinding of thick chains broke through the fading gunfire.

Smoke rushed out of the warehouse and into the night, rolling over the blacked-out SUVs left idling in the parking lot.

I stepped over several bodies before I reached the edge where the concrete met the asphalt.

Giuseppe jumped into one of the cars, barely making it inside before the car sprayed gravel in its haste to get away.

I fired one last shot through the back window, then let my gun fall to my side.

My crew moved out of the darkness, some of them hacking from the smoke.

I started barking orders, and within minutes, a headcount had been completed on both sides. I wasn’t sure how many men Giuseppe brought here, but they were leaving ten short.

Only one of my crew was fatally shot, but one was enough to ignite a burning rage in my gut.

That fury only heightened when a sharp cry and shouts of alarm rose up. I turned and saw another man lying in a pool of blood. A fist tightened around my insides. Fuck.

One of my men rushed forward. “Who is it?”

I already knew, and I was already running to his side.