AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Then what the fuck is going on?” My shrill screech surprises even me.
“I’m head of the Boston mafia,” Cain says with the seriousness of a man on his deathbed.
“The . . . mafia?” Cold breath stings my lungs. How is he so calm admitting that he’s a criminal?
He nods.
Bile rises to the back of my throat and my legs feel heavy. This isn’t the man I’m falling for, this is a monster hidden inside a fancy suit.
“I have to go.”
“You don’t, Alyssa. You can stay here with me. The secret is out. We can spend our—”
I push by while he’s speaking and start to run. His secret might be lifted, but this isn’t a world I want to be involved in. I’m a simple girl with simple aspirations. I can’t give myself to a man who sleeps by day and does his bad deals and deeds at night.
I run and Cain chases, calling my name with every step. It hits me at once, and the tears start to fall. The day we met, the man in the coffin, it’s all because of Cain. Our lives have been twisted from the very start, and this was the blinding light I needed to wake up from the daydream.
Before I know it, I’m in a car with Cain in my rearview mirror. He’s stopped chasing, adjusting his suit and tie, watching as I go.
What have I done, swearing myself to this beast?
Chapter 10
Cain
Those stupid fucks. What have they done? I’ve done everything in my power to hide my true self from Alyssa Dresden and in a matter of seconds, they made it tumble to the ground. A part of me wants tonight to go sideways. We’ll win, no matter what, but if these four pricks can meet their end by the hand of Rocco Barberetti before it, I’d be a happy man.
Then again, the satisfaction of putting a bullet in them myself is a damn sweet thought.
They’re the reason my woman left me. I should be chasing her to the ends of the Earth. Instead, I’m sitting in my car with Joe in the driver’s seat and Emilio beside me.
They’ve noticed my agitation but know better than to quell my temper. With the unholy acts we’re about to bring upon Rocco Barberetti, it’s better to think with a monster’s intent than a man’s.
“Why am I the schmuck stuck driving this thing when tall and spindly over there has longer legs?” Joe asks. We’re pulling into a parking spot opposite the Nightwing club where Rocco spends most of his weeknights. The three of us chose to arrive early, scope out the place and ensure that my crew isn’t dallying on the job.
His words are lost behind the wall of thoughts surrounding Alyssa Dresden. I don’t give a shit about his feelings of driving a car. She’s what matters to me, and I vow that after tonight, nothing will ever get in the way of me being with her again.
“Tell me about the Nightwing,” I say.
The street is alive. People wait their turn to enter the club. A long line has formed outside and two bouncers usher the less savory patrons to a raggedy strip club down the street.
“The club has two floors,” Joe’s lighthearted tone turns dire, realizing I’m not in the mood for jokes. He pulls into a parking spot and kills the engine. “There’s a dancefloor upstairs, Rocco keeps his office there. Nine times outta ten, you’ll find him on the lower decks where the music is still and the drink flows freely.”
“The building serves as a local get-together for the older generation,” Emilio cuts in. “Black suits get preference over jeans and tank tops. Old rock plays on the stereo and the dancers usually take to the samba or ballroom.”
“You’ve done your research. Good. Where are we going to find Rocco?”
Joe leans over the backrest. “Since our boys are heading in first, we’ll probably see him in the office. Wouldn’t be wise to discuss shady shit in the open.”
“Anyone holding a gun will be shot down, the rest will go free,” Emilio says.
“Then tell me what the plan is, one final time. Let’s not fuck this up.”
“When the signal is given, our men are going in under the guise of a heist. They’re going to hold the patrons at gunpoint and pilfer their belongings. It will be a quick operation and anyone who stands in our way will meet the full force of our soldiers. When the coast is clear, the three of us will enter, escorted through the building by those brave enough to die for the cause,” Emilio says. He slides his hand into his pocket and withdraws a metal box engraved from top to bottom in a floral pattern. “They’ll take the lead into the office. Donny and his three will draw and fire on any guards we’re not suspect of, leaving Barberetti to you.”
He opens the container to a neatly packed row of hand-rolled cigarettes. He offers one to Joe and lights both.
I reach into the footwell of my seat and pull out a hammer. I should give Rocco an easy ride to death, but the raggedy son of a bitch has cost me so much. I’ll make it hurt before I send him to his final resting place.
