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“I’m not forgetting that, but fuck me, the Colombians, this is serious fucking shit!”
“No shit, Fynn.” I grit my teeth angrily. “Only we’re already involved whether we like it or not. I’m with Marco. We need to go to them and fucking end it tonight.”
“Everyone needs to calm the fuck down.” Angelo, always the voice of reason, interjects. “I understand how you all are feeling. I feel the same. But we strategize first, then we strike. We go in guns blazing without all our facts, then we risk everything. This isn’t how we operate, and I’m not putting any of us in the firing line any more than we need to.”
“Sounds reasonable to me.” Marco nods.
“How is Rocco doing?” Enzo asks, rubbing his chin.
“He’s resting as best he can in the suite. Sage is coming back to check on him after this meeting. His vitals were fine initially, but he took a pretty nasty knock to the head when he hit the ground,” Angelo explains. He glances at Fynn and me. “You two go up there after this meeting and see if Rocco or Sloane need anything.”
Fynn opens his mouth to protest. We all know that he gets a little edgy around Sage.
They had a thing when they were young. We grew up with her family and went to the same school. Growing up, they had an on-again/off-again thing, and I’m not entirely sure, but sometimes I wonder if she was the one Fynn let get away.
She’s a very strong woman who doesn’t take any of his shit, never has. She’d be good for him. He needs somebody in his life to say no.
I don’t know if her feelings are still as strong because Fynn is who he is.
“Done.” I nod towards Fynn, who appears to be wholly conflicted about that prospect.
Sage played a pretty big part when Angelo had to fake his death. The Medici family may not own her, nevertheless we know where her loyalties lie. We owe her a lot.
She checked on Katiya and Mia after their kidnapping at Fortress and has always kept in Angelo’s good graces. I don’t know why the fuck she keeps agreeing to be involved with any of us anymore, but I know Fynn and Angelo helped her out years back when her boyfriend used to smack her around. The guy was also dealing drugs and got kicked out of school, almost ruining her reputation in the process.
She went to Fynn for help, who in turn got Angelo involved, and they pulled her out of the situation and got her away from the guy. He ‘left town’ never to be seen or heard from again. If it’s one thing this family can’t stand, it’s men who beat up women. Sage is practically family, too. Our mothers are very close.
I know she feels indebted, but she’s certainly paid her dues since then.
Angelo’s iPad starts ringing, and Vaughn’s voice comes through the speakers. I’ve never seen him; I don’t think anyone has, but he does his job with expert efficiency without ever having to be here in person. I think it’s a pretty remarkable thing he has going. He’s probably some nerd who still lives with his parents and has more money than we do.
He starts to reel off the information he has, emailing a video we’re about to watch. Starting from the bomb that was placed under Angelo’s car, there was about a three-minute window between us entering the auction house and Rocco showing up as backup. And the fuckers got in and got out.
Seeing the footage makes my blood fucking boil. I glance at my brothers and Enzo, and I can see they aren’t exactly filled with excitement either.
“This is a fucking joke!” Angelo balls his fists angrily as he paces. He has the footage up on a large TV screen from his iPad so we can see all the gory details.
“Fucking brazen in broad daylight,” Marco adds.
“Vaughn, I’ve seen enough,” Angelo spits as the footage pauses right after the two men on tape make their getaway in a nearby car. “Tell me where they headed next. Please fucking tell me you have the damn location.”
“I’ve got better than that. I traced the vehicle with a partial plate number, then watched each individual after they later abandoned the car downtown and went their separate ways.”
“Sneaky fucking bastards,” Enzo mutters.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Angelo is right, and I feel my anger mounting. I can feel the tension building in the room, but we must hold fast and devise a plan.
Nothing good comes when you rush in. Angelo would never let that happen.
“Send everything through to me,” Angelo tells him wearily. “Did we get any leads on the smuggling bust?”
“Still working on it,” he says.
He better be working into the fucking night, that’s all I can say. Time is of the essence.
He clicks off and proceeds to send through details, including several still photos from the footage showing images of each of the men.
“Three minutes.” Marco shakes his head. “That’s all it took to set up a death trap before our guys arrived.”
