I sit back in my chair as my men walk into my dining room. Grayson and Frankie, two of my best, take the seats on either side of me.
“Boss.” Grayson’s blue eyes meet mine.
He tugs on his collar before reaching over for the bottle of scotch in front of us. Pouring his own before hovering over my now empty glass.
“Refill?”
“Please.”
When the last guy, Enzo, who runs our security services, closes the door, I clear my throat, all eyes now on me.
Their leader.
The top tier of my organization take their seats, the further twenty surrounding the table stand to attention. There has been word amongst the group that there is unease since my foster brother, Keller’s, departure.
Our masked hitman, our main asset. The man who put the fear of God into our enemies.
This was never the life he wanted, but the one we were forced into. I gave him his freedom; it’s not something I will ever have. I had to let him go, to finally have the family he deserved with Sienna.
I stand and clap Grayson and Frankie on the shoulders.
“Marco’s kidnapping of Nico is an act of war. As such, we will respond in that way. Every single one of us will not sleep until he is home. We will bring him back to his wife. We hold no prisoners. Any Falcone fucker who crosses our path will die. This city is ours, and no Falcone can take that from us.”
The men cheer. “How are we taking Marco out, boss?”
“We keep breaking him down. Every shipment, every warehouse, every man who steps into our territory, we kill. He might have numbers, but there is no power behind them. Not like us. Right now, nothing comes in or goes out of New York without my say so. We have the commissioner in our corner, so we fight.”
I knock back the rest of my scotch, the empty glass bangs back down on my oak dining table. I nod to Enzo. “Any more intel on Marco?”
He runs a hand through his jet-black hair. “I’m digging into his past family dealings. I think if there’s anything to find, I’ll have it soon for you, boss.”
If anyone can find it, it’s Enzo. There isn’t anything he can’t tap into.
I raise my voice so my words are crystal clear. “We take Marco when the time is right; we fold them, we break them.”
The room goes silent. After Keller’s rampage over the Falcone’s, torturing and killing fifteen of his men, they hit back, stealing our cocaine shipments, burning our warehouses, and now, taking Nico.
I ball my fists.
“Vince, Ramos, I want you keeping tabs on Carlos at all times. Oversee every single fucking shipment. I’m not losing anymore. If I’m missing a single gram, you’re paying the consequences.”
Ramos gulps. “Got it, boss.”
“In the meantime, Grayson and Frankie will be leading the takedown operations. Every building they own will be burned to the ground. You listen to their orders. Enzo will be working the security to keep finding their warehouses, their hideouts, and feeding it through.”
Grayson rubs his hands together. He loves an explosion.
“Now are you ready to hunt?” I throw my arms up victoriously.
The room erupts into cheers and grunts of my men.
“Fuck yes.” Grayson looks up at me with a devilish grin.
“I said, ‘where the fuck is he holding Nico?’”
He claws at my calf, gasping for air, his eyes ready to burst out of their sockets. I release the pressure of my foot from this Falcone fucker’s neck.
He spits a mouthful of blood on the leg of my Armani pants. I sigh and press back down on his throat with my body weight.
“Let’s try this again. Last chance. Where is–”
I pause as gunshots ring out to my left, my ex-marine right-hand man, Grayson, is firing some asshole’s brains out. He gives me a menacing smirk as he wipes the blood spatter from his forehead.
“These dumb shits don’t know a thing, boss,” Grayson grunts.
The jackass under my foot coughs. “Oh, sorry.” I lift my knee momentarily, leaving him wheezing on the warehouse floor, and I crouch down, pulling my knife from the sheath on my ankle.
“Where was I? Ahhh, yes.”
Tears stream down his cheeks. I chuckle as a dark patch appears on his gray sweatpants.
“Don’t worry, it will all be over soon,” I whisper while pressing the tip of the blade under his chin.
“Where the fuck are they holding Nico?” I grab his greasy hair and tilt his head back.
“I-I don’t know,” he croaks out.
I half believe him. Marco has an army of utterly useless men, and this one is no different.
“Well, that is a shame.” I stab my blade up through his throat, right into the base of his brain, and slide it back out as he goes limp under my grip.
After wiping my blade on his sweater, I stand, dusting off my suit.
“Frankie?” I call out.
“It’s all clear, boss,” his voice echoes through the large building.
He comes around the corner with a grin, holding a handful of phones. His kill count multiplied tonight by the looks of it.
“Get those delivered to Enzo. Let him work his magic.” With all the people here, I find it hard to believe they were all clueless.
Frankie nods, running a crimson stained hand through his chestnut hair.
“Are we ready to light this shit up?” Grayson asks from behind me.
“I wouldn’t dare stop you,” I chuckle.
Commissioner O’Reilly will no doubt have something to say about yet another warehouse fire. But it’s either that or twenty dead bodies for him to deal with.
Grayson douses the building in gasoline while Frankie and I wait in my Bentley. I spark up a cigarette and take a deep inhale, resting my head back.
Another night, another dead end. But, one step closer to ridding New York of the Falcones.
Frustration forms a hard knot in my head as the flames start to consume the building. Grayson jumps into the back seat, slamming the door shut with about as much grace as a six foot four killing machine can do.
“All good?” I look at him through the rear-view mirror.
“Nothing like a burn out to end the night. I can’t go for a drink to celebrate, though; I’ve got somewhere I need to be.” He shifts to pull out his cell and glance at it before meeting my eyes.
“You mean, you’ve got someone you need to be in?” I retort, biting back a grin.
Frankie sniggers next to me while Grayson’s shooting me a death glare.
Grayson and Maddie, the worst pair on the planet at hiding their relationship. The man who swore off kissing a woman for almost eight years sure as hell kissed her. The truth is, everyone can see what they have is the real deal, no matter how they try to hide it from us.
A whole year we’ve had to put up with them avoiding each other, and now, it looks like they’ve finally caved. I’ve got a ten grand bet with my foster brother, Keller, that they would screw by the end of the year. I probably should up the bet to ‘married’ by the end of the year.
I’ve known Grayson since the moment he stepped foot into New York seven years ago. I gave him a life here when he ran from his own in Chicago. The best decision I’ve made. I gained another brother and right-hand man.
“Fuck you,” he grits out.
“I’d rather you stick to fucking Maddie, thanks.”
Frankie slaps his palm against his thigh. “Who’s Grayson fucking?” He turns to me.
“Maddie, Sienna’s best friend. You know the blonde one. She’s sassy as hell.”
I can feel Grayson’s gaze burning into the back of my head.
“Ohhh, getting down and dirty with the best friend, nice.” Frankie gives him a wink.
Grayson stiffens in his seat, and I can’t help but laugh.
“We’re just giving you shit, G. You know I’m happy for you.”
And I am. Much like Keller, Grayson has found his person. Happiness suits the grumpy marine.
I turn on the ignition and put the raging inferno of a warehouse behind us.
When I pull up to the curb at his place, Grayson nearly jumps out before I even stop. He must be itching to get out of the car for his date with Maddie.
“Have fun not fucking Maddie,” I call out as he makes his way towards his building.
I drive to my estate with Frankie. Once inside, I head straight towards the liquor cabinet in the kitchen.
Taking his scotch, Frankie lets out a sigh as he leans against the marble counter.
“Boss, Marco isn’t going to let up. We need to hit harder, do something that will break him. These men don’t mean shit to him. They are nobodies he’s plucked off the damn streets.”
I take a moment to savor the smooth burn of my own drink. He’s right. In all these months, Marco has been unpredictable. But, no matter what we do, he just recruits more.
It’s always been hostile with the Falcones, since the day I was given the keys to the Kingdom after my birth father’s death.
He must have seen me, the little street rat, as an easy target. Well, I’ve proven that fucker wrong. I’ve managed to keep the power in my hands all this time.
Things were at a standstill until he made the world’s greatest mistake. He orchestrated the kidnapping of Keller’s wife. He started a war that I fully intend to finish. The commissioner’s even backing me.
“We need to do something big. But we can’t risk Nico’s safety. I mean, we know Marco is unhinged.” He steps into the next room and lowers his tall frame to the black leather couch. Crossing his ankle over his knee, he looks more comfortable in my living room than I feel most of the time.
“Enzo sent over the files on Marco’s daughters.” I briefly looked at them this morning, but I haven’t had a chance to dig deeper yet.
The cushion creaks as he leans forward and his dark brow rises.
“He doesn’t hide them well.” I pull out my phone and open the email, clicking on the first picture. Two Italian girls stare back at me.
“Eva, the youngest, on the left. Rosa, on the right,” I mutter, reading the contents of the email.
The one redhead on the left is younger, not by much. She looks nothing like the woman on the right that I can’t take my eyes off of. Smaller than her sister, she has a waist that looks like it’s begging for my hands and a set of hips that I bet would fit mine perfectly. Her big brown eyes are staring right at me over a set of deep red fuck-me lips. I can’t deny it–despite being the daughter of the enemy, she is beautiful.
Rubbing my hand along my day old stubble, my eyes still fix on her. Rosa. My cock starts to twitch against my zipper. I shuffle in my seat to try to rectify it. What the fuck is going on with me?
This isn’t how we do things. We respect women, always. It’s non-negotiable. My foster mom would rip my heart out of my chest for bringing harm to a woman.
“This could break him.” Frankie takes another long sip, watching me closely over the rim.
This could be the way to end this.
“It shouldn’t be hard to find them. I’ll get on it with Grayson. It’s a bold move. They could kill Nico,” Frankie says, breaking me from my haze.
Doubt stabs into my chest. “Or they take another one of ours. Hell, they could take Maddie next. They’ve proven how low they will stoop. I can’t do that to Grayson.”
His gray eyes meet mine, and he nods.
“Come on, let’s go. I need to get a real drink.” I pocket my phone, letting out a ragged breath.
I need to down some scotch and then sink into a woman. Preferably of Italian descent. With big brown eyes, long, curly jet-black hair, and a killer body.
