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Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, I answer the next question I know she is hesitant to ask, “You don’t need to worry about me either. You won’t be getting rid of me that easily.”
Nearly everyone has left as my father commanded, heading home to spend the day with their families in case it is their last. All that remains with us are my father, Luca, V, Carlo, and Dante.
“Because I don’t quite trust you to follow my instructions,” my father turns to V, “Dante will be increasing his presence. He will be watching over you day and night until these things are situated.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” V huffs back at him.
“I don’t kid about the safety of my family. He will be taking you out of town to some place safe this afternoon.”
“Seriously,” V scoffs, “I have shit to do this week.”
“Venecia,” Sal’s voice loud and firm, “This is not up for debate. I suggest you go pack a bag.”
“Fucking bullshit,” V mumbles as she stomps up the stairs, “I’ve already been stuck with this guy for weeks.”
“Dante is more than capable of taking Avalie as well,” Sal turns towards us.
“No Papa,” I squeeze Ava’s hand, “She’s staying here with me. I trust her not to leave this house without me.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t say the same of your sister.”
“Giancarlo,” he turns towards my brother, “I am putting a guy on you as well. He’ll be posing as your driver as to not raise any suspicion.”
Carlo nods. Unlike V, he knows that arguing this new arrangement is absolutely futile. “Thank you for the discretion.”
ChapterTwenty-Eight
Lorenzo
Most of the weekend was a blur, the days spent planning a well calculated strike against all of the other families, and determining how to hit them all.
“Don’t wait up,piccola pesca,” I pull Ava against me, “It is going to be late by the time we get back.”
“Wake me when you get back?”
“Before or after I tie you back up?”
A coy smile breaks on her face as I lean down to kiss her.
“Lets go,” Luca calls to me, “it’s almost midnight.”
Stepping outside of the house, I see that the last of everyone is getting into a car to head out.
Each of the cars pull through the gates of the estate and begin to scatter throughout the city, slowly making their way onto the turf of the Triad, Yakuza, Armenians, and Russians.
Three or four primary and well-known fronts for each family are getting hit tonight. At two, we burn them all. One coordinated strike, hitting them all simultaneously, leaving no one the opportunity to defend themselves or retaliate.
Luca and I are currently heading towards a bike garage that is a well-known front and hangout for many of the Yakuza members. Luca flips off the headlights as he pulls up to the curb down the street. From here we have a good, yet discreet, view of the garage.
“It’s dark,” Luca says, “most nights this place a party.”
“I know,” my brows furrow as I respond.
My Sig is resting on my thigh, my finger flipping the safety on and off as I watch at the vast nothingness through the window. Nearly thirty minutes passes, and we don’t see a single person or any sign movement inside.
“Something isn’t right,” I mumble to Luca as I quietly climb from the car.
He is immediately climbing from the driver’s seat and is standing next to me on the sidewalk.
