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After an hour in the car, we finally arrive at the address I received in the text. I have more questions than answers at this point but what I do know is if Victor Pacelli is behind the shooting than Don Marco ordered the hit.
Dixon slides out of the driver's seat and circles the car to where I’m standing surveying the structure in front of us. We’re in the middle of nowhere and smack dab in the middle of a secluded wooded area off the beaten path is a single level concrete structure. There are no windows and from my vantage point only one door. I take a step away from the car and long step the tire tracks left behind in the dirt. There are no other vehicles in sight, and it’s been miles since we last saw one on the road. A perfect hide away. Impenetrable, and soundproof.
“What’s the play here, Boss?” Dixon asks, retrieving his gun from his side holster.
“I’m making this up as I go.” I pull my own gun out.
“No way that could go wrong.”
“That’s why you’re here. To make sure it doesn’t.” I tread toward the door.
One step into the concrete room and the smell of bleach hits my nose. The scent is so strong my eyes burn. I don’t have to think too hard to figure out what it's hiding. Without a doubt I’ve just walked into the inner circle of Carracci’s organization. His man Kayden Blake’s den of iniquities.
Kayden’s reputation proceeds him everywhere he goes. His pension to right wrongs, his dirty hands cleansing the world of evil bastards who don’t deserve to share our air. The smell of death underneath is years in the making but the latest victim better not be my kill.
Victor Pacelli is mine.
A vibration reminds me of the burner phone tucked in my back pocket. I pull it out to find a new text.
How the fuck can his timing be so damn accurate.
This time it’s a five-digit code. I punch the numbers into the keypad to the side of a second door. The lock clicks and I push the door open into a much larger room. In the middle of the stained concrete floor are two chairs holding Victor and Stephanie, hands and feet tied to the legs just like in the video.
Between them is a small table holding nothing but a file folder. I walk past them, stalking Victor with my eyes as I pass to retrieve the file. I haven’t figured out her role in all this yet, but his fate was sealed the second he fired the first round.
Flipping the file open, I study the documents inside, my gaze occasionally darting between the two of them while I access the situation I’ve walked into. When I’ve processed what I’ve learned, my anger is flaring, and my temper is dangerously close to molten lava. I don’t know if I’m angrier that I was dubbed or that Carracci’s men figured it out before I did.
I close the distance between myself and Victor, clutching my switchblade in my hand. The color drains from his face when I press the sharp blade against his throat. “Do you know why this is happening to you?”
He struggles to answer but between the blade on his jugular and the gag in his mouth all he can do is grumble uselessly. He knew exactly why he was here when he laid eyes on me. As much as he knows his death is a certainty.
“Did you think I would never find out about her?” My gaze flicks over my shoulder to Stephanie.
Panic fills them both as they realize I know the secret they’ve been hiding. There are no more lies to tell. No more plays to be made. His desperation to save her will be his own downfall and my gain.
“Who dies first?” I rip the gag from his mouth.
The true panic underneath his well-placed mask slips. When face to face with death most men like us would stare it in the eye but when someone you love is also staring at that hideous face it’s impossible not to blink first.
“Don’t you fucking dare lay your hands on her.” Victor fights against his restraints in a sudden burst of bravery.
A fit of laughter rips from my chest. I stalk towards her.
“Too late for that.” I grip her inner thigh. “I’ve already had my hands on her. All over her.”
“You fucked him?” The disgust in Victor's voice draws tears to her eyes and brings me a smug sense of satisfaction.
“You told me to get close to him.” She sobs, “I did what you asked.”
“Close to him, not let him inside of you.” He turns his head away.
“Don’t worry big brother. We were interrupted before I could soil her too much.”
“You're disgusting.” Her embarrassment flipping the switch to anger.
“You’re mad at the wrong man sweetheart. Your brother put you in this situation when he planted you as a mole in my office to spy on my operations. The real problem here though is twofold. He failed to kill me, and he put his hands on my wife.”
Victor drags his eyes upward, “Maybe you weren’t the target.”
