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Fear came first, hitting me smack center in my chest, piercing my heart like a fucking bulls-eye. Wrath and bloodlust followed as a close second, fighting for the front of the damn emotional race wreaking havoc all over my body.
“Who was it? The Amatos?”
“That’s where it becomes tricky. Jimmy has eyes on Don Amato and he’s still waiting at the boathouse, but the plates of the SUV are from Michigan. Just sent you the only photo I could snatch.”
Michigan, fuck! That fucking car belonged to the Amatos for sure.
“FUUUUCCCKKK!” I yelled into the speaker, shattering the half-full glass I was holding against the damn wall, crouching down, my head hanging low in defeat.
Every fiber of my being was overcome by an icy grip of fear, squeezing my heart with an intensity I had never experienced before. My breaths came in ragged gasps, and my hands clenched into fists so tight that my nails bit into my palms. The world around me blurred, and I felt like I was drowning in a sea of despair.
This can’t be happening. This can’t fucking be happening.
For a fleeting moment, I was paralyzed by the possibility of losing her. Images of her smile, her laughter, and the way her eyes sparkled when she looked at me flashed before me like a cruel slideshow, each frame driving a sharp knife deeper into my chest.
The thought of her in the hands of those monsters ignited a primal rage within me, but fear still clung to my heart like a persistent shadow.
But then, something snapped.
I shut my eyes as tight as they would go, forcing myself to push the fear of losing her away and focus on the rage alone. Each deep inhale fueled me with darker demons drenched in fury. I needed them all and then some.
The fear that held me captive was replaced by an overwhelming surge of determination. My mind sharpened into a laser-focused instrument of retribution. I could feel the transformation happening inside me as if the devil himself had taken residence in my soul, whispering promises of vengeance and darkness.
I pushed off the floor, composing myself as much as my heart allowed, ready to fight for the love of my life.
Striding through the dimly lit room, the floorboards creaking beneath my steps, I walked towards the other side of the office. My fingers brushed over the cold, polished wood of Matt’s desk as I grabbed my Glock, a sleek and lethal extension of my will. The room seemed to darken around me, the very air growing heavy with a palpable aura of danger.
There was no room for hesitation. Every second counted.
“Get back to Dea Tacita,” I barked into the phone. “Drop Jimmy off at the police station. I need to know if that fucker Mercier is out or if the Amatos have a damn death wish.”
“On my way, Boss.”
I killed the call with Mike and called Jimmy as I took a burner from Matt’s drawer.
“Boss.” He answered on the second ring.
“Do you still have Don Amato within shooting range?”
“I do. Is it time to pull the trigger?” Jimmy was always eager to get his hands dirty, but right now I needed confirmation first.
“No. Standby. I need you to flash him that little red dot when I say so. Got it?”
“Just say when.”
I flicked the burner open and dialed Don Amato’s number, anxiously waiting for him to pick up. I reeled it in, though. I needed a clipped tone that anxiety couldn’t muster.
“Hello?”
“Don Amato, it’s Liam.”
“Oh. Don’t tell me she got cold feet about meeting me.”
“No, no. My call comes for a different reason. Look down at your chest, Don Amato. Do you see that red dot flashing right above your heart?” My voice was close to a cold taunt drenched in menace.
“What are you doing, Liam?”
“If I so much as suspect that you’re lying to me, those damn swans to your left will be the last thing you see.”
