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I handed Agent Downing a plate of breakfast, watching as he took a deep breath and braced himself for whatever was coming our way. "Guess the fun's over, boys," I said, trying to keep my tone light. "Downing, do you have any idea what this is about?"
"Nope, not a clue!" Downing hissed, shoveling in a few more quick bites of his scrambled eggs.
As the guys exchanged uneasy glances, we all knew that the arrival of a US Marshal could only mean one thing—trouble. And for Rosedale Tech, trouble had a nasty habit of following us around.
We all crowded around the window, watching a beige Cadillac pull up with Giuseppe Russo at the wheel, flanked by one man seated beside him and one in the back. As the doors to the car opened, I recognized one of them as my attorney, Angelo Ferrara. But when Downing caught sight of the third man, his eyes widened in recognition.
"That's Antonio Russo!" Downing whispered, glancing at me.
"Who's Antonio Russo?" Chase inquired.
"He's only the kingpin of the Russo crime family."
"What the fuck!" Daniel whispered.
My breath caught in my throat when Giuseppe Russo, Amy's father, stepped out of the car. He wore a well-fitted suit, which differed from his usual casual Tommy Bahama beachwear. He and his brother Antonio could have passed for twins if it weren't for Antonio's balding head. Giuseppe glanced at all of us and then gave me a crisp nod and a tight smile.
My heart pounded in my chest while I stood in the doorway as the men made their way toward the front porch. Antonio Russo's presence was a clear sign that some power move was about to go down. Downing's face had gone pale, and the rest of the Rosedale Tech crew shifted uncomfortably, casting anxious glances at each other.
When the trio finally entered Casa Palacious, they couldn't help but look around in admiration. "Well, I must say, this is quite the place you've got here, Guy," Giuseppe remarked, his eyes sweeping the opulent room with a mixture of envy and appreciation.
In that instant, I realized Angelo was the man sporting the US Marshall's badge, and my mind raced with confused thoughts stoked by fear. Then as the tension in the room thickened, Giuseppe's gaze landed on Agent Downing, the one person that wasn't a part of the Rosedale crew. "Ah, you must be the infamous Agent Downing," he said with a smirk. "I've heard all about you."
Downing's jaw clenched tightly, but he remained silent, staring back at Giuseppe.
Then without further ado, my attorney performed his duties as a US Marshall. "Agent Kenneth Downing, I'm here to serve you with a Court order."
Angelo handed over a thick envelope, his face betraying no emotion. Downing hesitantly took it, scanning its contents. His eyes widened as he read.
"These papers order the FBI to release the Rosedale families from protective custody and vacate the premises immediately," Downing said, his voice taut with disbelief. "But there's more. We're also required to return the phones we have put away for safekeeping and provide all the evidence we've gathered in the Rosedale case to Mr. Angelo Ferrara."
I was dumbfounded. What could have possibly transpired to trigger such an abrupt and stunning reversal of our circumstances?
Antonio regarded Downing with a chilly smile. "You heard the man. It's time for you and your men to leave. And don't forget our evidence."
The room was awash with shock and fear as Downing and the other agents gathered their belongings.
Suddenly, Antonio reached into his jacket pocket and produced an envelope filled to the brim with cash, which he handed to Downing as he stepped closer. "This is to ensure that my niece Amy and the other women and children make it safely back to their San Diego homes by midnight tonight."
Eyeing the envelope with suspicion, it was clear Downing knew better than to argue. "Understood," he said through gritted teeth, snatching the envelope from Antonio's outstretched hand.
Antonio leaned in closer, his voice low and menacing. "And if this Court order is not carried out, you'll answer to me personally."
Downing met his gaze head-on. "Nothing will happen to them, Mr. Russo. I give you my word."
Antonio's eyes narrowed. "Your word doesn't mean much to me, Agent. But we'll see."
The two men locked eyes for a tense moment before Antonio abruptly cut off their conversation. "Give me your business card!"
Downing fished in his pocket and pulled out a card, which he handed over to Antonio. The mob boss carefully examined it, his expression inscrutable. "Very well," he said, slipping the card into his pocket. "We'll be in touch shortly with a secure digital drop box where you are to send the evidence. I expect your final file transfer," Antonio glanced at his watch and continued, "to be finished before six o'clock this evening local time."
"Consider it done, sir!"
As Downing and his fellow operatives withdrew from the stately residence, Antonio motioned for the men to accompany him into Guy's study. Amy's father secured the door in their wake, and the group settled into seats encircling Guy's desk, which now doubled as an impromptu conference table.
Positioned behind the desk, Antonio reclined in the chair, his fingers interlaced in a contemplative fashion. My counsel, who had maintained silence since executing his duties as a US Marshal, was seated beside me. His focus was unyielding on Antonio.
"Gentlemen, let me lay it out for you. Just a few days ago, I couldn't give a flying fuck about your troubles or what you had coming. But when family calls, like my brother here, I answer." Antonio clapped Giuseppe on the back. "He tells me that you guys are like family, and that makes you like family to me. So, it's on me now to help you mop up this mess. I'll use what I've got—connections, calling in favors, and, if need be, getting my hands dirty. And you should know, I don't take losing lightly."
