Page 24

“ I f you die, I will bring you back to life, just to kill you all over again. That goes for all three of you,” Hollis says mildly in my ear.

I huff a laugh. “And your puppy? Is he allowed to die on you? Seems to be a double standard.”

“His Master will probably want to get first dibs,” is his reply.

“Probably smart,” I muse.

Speaking of our Martelli counterparts, a need to keep my Baby Mouse close rises up, and it takes considerable effort to not insist he join us.

Roman and Jude both know to stay within easy reach of their guards, and me.

Not because I don’t trust them, but for Roman’s sake.

He is the heart of our Family, and his safety is always a priority.

Catching Joel’s eye, I tilt my head in Benjamin’s direction, and he gives a discreet nod. The guard we put on Benjamin is a good one, handpicked for him, but the burning need to protect what’s mine is eased a little, knowing the one person I trust with my own life will watch out for what’s mine.

Leandro comes on the line. “They have a network set up that we’re trying to break through.

Whoever set it up is probably the same person that’s been hiding all their movements, so while not impossible to break through, it’s going to take a minute.

Hollis’s friend was able to get inside, and is trying to find a place to connect his phone, so we can piggyback off it.

Until then, be careful, we don’t have any eyes, except those on the ground. ”

“We’re as prepared as we can be,” Roman tells Hollis and Leandro. “We’re going to end this.”

“Yes, we are…” Emilio says.

The two of them wear matching grins, and I wish those in their paths luck on dying a quick, painless death.

“Keep the fed alive, unless your life is in danger. I want him to experience the best we have to offer before Dad and Il Padrone dispose of him,” Roman tells everyone.

He gets a quick round of agreement, before exchanging a look with Emilio, and then the two of them are directing their Families to move out.

A sense of calm washes over me as I get into place. The bloodlust that usually hides just behind the surface of my facade is now out to play, and I couldn’t stem the small smile on my lips even if I wanted to.

Everything, even Hollis in my ear, becomes white noise, as the need to spill blood, and be the weapon Cristian turned me into, crashes over me. It’s easy to let go of everything that makes me human, as if those parts of me don’t exist—which sometimes I’m convinced they don’t.

“Ready for this, Little Prince?”

Roman’s smile is only slightly unhinged, though I can see the tinge of worry on his face as well. “As we’ll ever be.”

I look at Jude. “Don’t do anything stupid. Listen to Killian and Dmitri.”

He huffs. “I even got permission from Jayden to be here. I’m fine.”

Dmitri, the little spitfire of a bodyguard we stole from the Russians—who has been appointed to Jude’s guard, simply because he knows ASL—meets my gaze with an intense look of his own. “I got him,” he signs. “You don’t have to worry.”

I don’t bother to respond to that. I will always worry about my lovers, but I also trust them, and the people around them—as much as I can, but that has to be enough.

“Let’s go,” is all I say.

Roman and Emilio do a count, and the moment the word is given, chaos erupts.

Being descended on by not one, but two mafia Families will cause a bit of commotion, and the resulting pandemonium feeds the bloodlust running through me.

As does getting to shoot someone as soon as we’re through the doors on my side.

This entry point is the largest, allowing for us to push a bigger group of men in, right off the bat, but we're also a larger target. No matter, that just means the other parts of our forces should have less resistance at their entry points. I don’t mind making a nuisance of myself for a good cause.

The first few people we encounter are easy to take out, and I shake my head in disgust. You’d think, after all of this time of keeping off the grid, they’d have better trained people in place to protect themselves.

“We’re in,” Hollis says over the comms. “Molly’s fee is high as fuck, but what’s important is…I can track the Bosses down. Give me a moment.”

Knowing my Tesoro has eyes on us eases some of my tension. I don’t have to worry about being everywhere at once when Hollis can be.

“Looks like they’re being held together in a room on the east side of the building. There are guards along that corridor, so be careful. It’s a fucking deathtrap down there.”

I grimace, because the last thing we need is them getting spooked and killing the Bosses before we can rescue them. Carter will kill me if that happens. Especially after I argued he’d be more useful babysitting for Keegan and Marcus, since he’s still injured.

Across the room, I meet Roman’s eyes. His face is oddly bloody, but since Benji doesn’t seem worried about it, I chalk it up to him getting a little personal with his kills.

He nods and directs his attention somewhere else—I’m assuming, he's getting some kind of signal from Emilio—so I focus on getting away from the main section of the warehouse we’re in, to where we need to be.

“Middle door on the left will take you through some smaller processing room, and then it’s a straight shot to where you need to be,” Leandro directs.

Signaling to a few of my men, I head in that direction, trusting those who need to be, are following me.

The other room holds a few adversaries, but these ones are using overturned tables, and the machinery that was left behind from when this was a functioning manufacturing warehouse, as cover.

“Got eyes on our friend Tom?” Roman asks over the comms.

“No, but he’s still there. Neither my spies, nor Antonio and Nario, have seen him leave.

Fucker is probably holed up in a closed off room that doesn’t have a camera.

I can’t look into the previous feed, because wherever they’re storing the data is off-site; they’re transmitting their feeds somewhere else.

H is working on tracing it, but right now, I don’t have time to mess around with that. ”

“Agreed. Let H deal with that for now.” Roman barely sounds breathless as he speaks, still shooting at his targets. “What’s happening in the Bosses' room?”

Hollis is quiet for long enough that concern starts to bleed in through the bloodlust. “They’re being left alone, but they might be injured.”

Fuck. That was…the wrong thing to say to Roman and Emilio.

Cursing, I switch magazines, uncaring that the empty one drops to the floor, and follow quickly behind the two acting Bosses.

Benji and Dante cover the boys as they storm across the room. Bullets fly everywhere as the door leading to the corridor where the Bosses are supposed to be opens, and the men standing guard there reinforce the ones already in the room.

“We need backup on this side,” I say into the comms.

I don’t know who, or if anyone, responds, as I'm too busy trying not to get myself or the boys shot. Fucking impulsive Roman. Gonna kill him for this. Lio too, if Il Padrone doesn’t get to him first.

One of our men goes down, and I shoot the fucker who got him in the head. My heart pounds as the fucker collapses, and another enemy takes his place. They’re popping up like fucking daisies, and it’s getting annoying.

“Got eyes on Court,” Hollis says loudly in my ear. “Fucker was hiding, like I thought he was. Hurry, he’s headed into the Bosses’ room.”

Goddammit. There goes any finesse we had in killing these fuckers.

My feet barely seem to hit the ground as I sprint across the room behind Roman and Emilio. Roman gets clipped, his body jerking as a bullet rips through his arm. Emilio efficiently kills the fucker that shot at his friend, before quickly assessing Roman.

“I’m fine.” Roman’s words are accompanied by a hiss of pain.

“Be more careful, Little Prince,” I tell him, coming up behind them. “I will have you pulled if you can’t keep yourself safe.”

“Fuck you.” Roman doesn’t even look back as he and Emilio approach the door to the corridor.

Roman’s guards take up a position on either side of the open door, their guns drawn. We clear out of the line of fire, knowing the enemy is counting on us making a mistake. Hollis was right about this being a death trap.

If I remember the layout correctly, the only thing down this way are storage rooms, with one way out. And while some of the men guarding the corridor are now dead, or almost-dead, that doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy getting past whoever’s left.

“On my count,” I sign.

Roman nods, adjusts his grip on his gun, and takes a breath.

“Three… Two…” Adjusting my own stance, I filter out the chatter coming from the earpiece, as the Martellis make their way to our location, and our men do the same. “One.”

Benji, having worked with Roman and I long enough to anticipate our movements, sweeps into the corridor first, with Dante on his heels. Unwilling to let Roman or Emilio get shot, I go next, ignoring the way Roman growls my name.

There’s no cover in the corridor, so men drop like flies. Though that also means the chances of getting shot are high, so trying to keep myself and the boys safe is virtually impossible.

“Fuck.” The sting of a bullet grazing my arm is never pleasant.

“Second to last door is where you’ll find the Bosses,” Leandro says.

“Motherfucker,” Benji hisses as he stumbles backwards, after getting hit in the leg.

Roman empties his magazine, shooting the dickhead who hit his bodyguard—no, he’s not at all traumatized by Enzo almost dying in front of him last year.

“What’s Tom doing with the Bosses?” I ask.

“Nothing.” There’s surprise in Hollis’s voice. “He has a gun out, but he’s simply pacing, occasionally pointing it at them. I don’t think he wants to kill them, but I wouldn’t put it past him, if you get too close. Tread carefully, Love.”

“You hear that, boys?” I ask mildly.

“Fuck that,” Emilio says. “I know you said to keep him alive, Roman, but…”

“Do what you need to, Amico Mio,” Roman tells him.

Together, Roman and Emilio close the distance to the only open door in the corridor. On quick feet, Roman dashes in front of the door, to get to the other side of it, while Emilio stands perfectly poised to enter.

The shot fired at Roman causes a red haze to fall over my vision. He meets my gaze and signs, “I’m fine.”

If it wasn't a stupid move, I'd try to cross, to be on the other side of the door with him. As it is, I can only keep his friend safe for him.

There's a commotion behind us that is either a stampede of Martellis and Jude coming to assist—or get in the way—or an actual stampede. Neither option is optimal, but I can't lose focus, so I don't bother turning to see, trusting my surviving men to get them under control.

Roman does a silent count: Three… Emilio shifts his stance and I follow, prepared to throw myself over him, if needed.

Two… I adjust my grip on my gun again.

One…

We burst into the room, three weapons pointed at Court, while, like Hollis said, he only has the one.

He's standing in the space between the two Bosses, who are both shackled to the wall. A quick assessment tells me the thick manacles would be difficult to get out of—not impossible, but it'll take even me a while. Looks like Cristian is going back into lock picking lessons, Il Padrone too.

Court smiles at us, an unhinged look in his eyes. He's unimpressive. If it weren't for the fuckery he and his men have put us through, I would never have pegged him as a threat.

Everything from his ill-fitting suit, to his sweat-damp brown hair, is average.

“About fucking time,” Cristian says, though there's a wobble to his voice that I don't like. I can't risk looking away from Court to check on him, though. “I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about us.”

I laugh. “Turns out, I missed how annoying you are, so figured I might as well come save you.”

“Shut up!” Court yells. “You think this is funny? That this is all some big joke?”

“Well…” I drawl. “It is three against one, and if you managed to get past us, I don't think you'd even step foot across the threshold before you're gunned down.”

“Are we sure?” Il Padrone asks. “I think my Boys need a lesson in… everything, if this is how they operate on their own.”

Emilio’s body practically vibrates as he leans toward his Master, though he doesn't make a move.

“I will shoot him,” Court warns, either reading Emilio’s body language correctly, or making an estimated guess of the boy’s thought process.

“You think I haven't been shot before?” Il Padrone asks. “I'm not afraid of you, or your bullets.”

Court’s hand is steady as he sets his finger on the trigger.

“It doesn't have to get bloody,” I tell him. “While I, and many other people here, would love to paint the walls with your blood, this can be a nice and easy thing.”

“Fuck easy. These bastards have had it easy!”

“Right…” Cristian says with heavy sarcasm, his voice still sounding off to my ears. “Because being starved and mutilated are easy things to endure.”

“It's what you cop and child killers deserve!”

Hopefully, Court’s voice carries over the comms, because I have no idea what the fucker is referring to. Cops? Sure, they're fair game. But kids? Everyone with a lick of right and wrong knows not to touch them, even on this side of the law-abiding line.

“Can we just shoot him?” Emilio asks.

“Only if you want your precious Boss to die as well,” Court spits, raising his gun slightly, so it no longer points at Il Padrone’s chest, fixed on his head instead.

“I'm already wounded,” Cristian says, which causes Roman to move a fraction of a step. “Shoot me instead.”

Court spins on his heel, almost too quickly to track, but I'm already moving. It's too late when I finally see his plan unfold. “No.” His words are a distant thrum in my violence-soaked brain. “I have a better target in mind.”

Changing trajectory while already in motion is a skill I've achieved through years of training. But it doesn't mean I'm always quick enough.

Four gunshots go off, echoing around the small room.

Two hit their mark, one goes wide, and one rips right through me, as I throw myself in front of Roman.

As I hit the floor, my only thought is: I knew I'd die for the little shit one day.