After a bloody battle, he’d taken back Santini Spirits. The fight for power and control with the Bratva went back hundreds of years. He had no doubt it would continue for hundreds more.
Monroe returned and picked him up. “Where to?”
“La Grande Fuga,” he replied. “Then, home.”
After calling his housekeeper to let her know to expect him, he called Diego’s cell phone. His wife answered.
“Diego’s out of surgery,” she said. “He said thank you. I’m still angry as hell he got shot.”
“Let me talk to him.”
“Hey, Boss,” Diego said. “Making me wear the vest saved my ass. Grazie.”Thank you.
“Make your wife happy. Run the security team I’m hiring for the distillery.”
“Working for Cosa Nostra is what I’m born to do,” Diego said.
“Talk to your wife,” Gabriel said. “Give it some thought.”
“Thanks, Boss.”
“Rest up,” Gabriel said. “Watch your back. This isn’t over.”
“It’s never over. We got another buncha crazies coming up behind these.”
“Body armor.”
“Yeah, Boss.”
Gabriel hung up as Monroe pulled up outside La Grande Fuga. There, he left his long gun and helmet but kept his CANiK in its holster and the body armor in place. With his Santini suit and dress shirt draped over his shoulder, he left.
Next stop… home.
“What’s been going on with you?” Gabriel asked as Monroe pulled back into traffic.
“I got a stalker,” she replied.
Gabriel craned around.
“No, G,” she said. “Not someone on our tail now. A stalker. Some nutjob I met.”
“What are you doing about it?”
She shot him a sideways glance. “Biding my time before I take him out.”
“Playing with your prey before you eat it.”
She chuckled. “And I picked up a few new jobs.”
“With?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Did you vet them?”
“Always. The guy’s some rogue agent. Works alone. Met him the same time I met the stalker.”
“Who is he?”
