AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The dead body of my cousin propped up on the back steps of The Cathouseinterested me far less than the blond sociopath cousin of Ty Michaelson blowing smoke at the security camera. I paused the video and stared at his face, a grin curling up.
At least Jock’s failed errand hadn’t been a total clusterfuck. He’d outed Ty Michaelson’s secret weapon, the shadow consigliere, and had given my guys a face to wreak all their revenge fantasies on. Daniel Michaelson, the Reaper’s hellspawn. I rubbed my chin, wondering if I should reveal it to the Boston Police or some of the other gangs for the hundredth time. Plenty of dudes would still love to get revenge on the Reaper.
I was pretty damn sure that Sal Michaelson hadn’t given a flying fuck about his son and that his nephew Tyler Michaelson was more like Sal.
Michaelson sure wasn’t a hotheaded neanderthal like his old man the Rhino, that was for sure. I’d been expecting his guys to roll up on the club.
Instead, they’d dropped off Jock’s sorry carcass and now they’d left me another present. It had come ten minutes ago, an unmarked manilla envelope with a smaller one inside. I now cut that one open and frowned at the plastic flash drive decorated with a smiley-face sticker with sunglasses.
“The fuck?” I muttered and shoved it into the computer, even though I knew that was pretty damn risky. I’d have one of my tech guys check it over later. This couldn’t wait.
Leaning back in my chair, I lit another cigar and then opened the folder on the flash drive labeled “SURPRISE.” Then my cigar dropped out of my mouth and I swore as embers and ash got all over my lap and the chair's leather.
In the folder was a video of my two other guys, the ones I'd presumed were dead, running their fucking mouths. Joe Iglio babbled years' worth of incriminating evidence as a masked figure held a gun between his eyes. Sarksi was even worse.
“Boss,” said a voice and, for the first time in years, I goddamn jolted.
One of my guys had appeared by the desk, eyes wide and breathing too loud. I rose to my feet, glaring and about to bite his head off, when another one of them appeared and blurted out, “Someone just dropped off Iglio and Sarksi. They're…”
“They’re in bad shape,” said my first guy. “Hospital?”
I glanced down at my computer then pulled out the flash drive and crushed it in my hand. Reaching into my desk drawer, I pulled out a pair of brass knuckles, a taser, and a gun. Then I shook my head and looked up.
My guys fell back, their fear as apparent and rancid as piss.
“Basement,” I said in a soft voice. “And call the cleaners.”
A few hours later, back in my office and looking for a cigar, another one of my soldiers interrupted me. At least this one knocked and didn’t so much as blink at his boss covered in blood.
“We got intel.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked and slammed my desk drawer shut. “More news about how much of a fuck-up last night was? How Tyler Michaelson still isn’t dead and two of my best guys sold us all out?”
“It’s your lawyer.” My man hesitated. “He said it was urgent.”
“Fine,” I sighed and went to the closet in my office, fishing out a towel. I began to wipe off the blood as Bertie appeared and did a double take. “Bad night.”
“Happens to the best of us, Caleb,” Bertie said and I raised an eyebrow. The bastard practically beamed at me as he strode over and hefted his briefcase onto a nearby table. “Remember Marina Fioreno?” I shook my head. “Fierce Fioreno? Lady cop?”
“Oh, yeah,” I laughed and tossed the towel to the floor, walking to the liquor cabinet. A memory of burning dark eyes and pretty black hair flashed into my mind. “Gorgeous and a lot of fun. We killed her, what, a year ago? Why?”
“Ah no… I believe the official story was a tragic suicide from burn-out, remember?” Bertie said with a smirk. “Some of your finest staged murder work, I must say.”
“Mhm,” I said and took a deep drink of scotch and shook my head. “That bitch started all of this.”
Bertie nodded and chuckled. “It’s pretty funny that people thought Mickey Weiss was the one behind that evidence grab, that he was the only one to put two and two together. I think when he tried to tell the Boston brass, they had him evaluated by several shrinks.”
I snorted with laughter. “Yeah, Fioreno was a real pain in the ass – so focused on catching all the bigshot criminals of Boston. We weren’t ready to go after the Michaelsons like we are now. We had to get the Russian situation under control.” My smile twisted as I remembered how satisfying it had been to kill Volksov and take his piece of the city. It was another chess move to ensure my success and Michaelson’s downfall. Or so it should’ve gone. “Right now, we can’t go after the Michaelsonfamily without a full-out gang war. Can’t do that until I have control of the family, which won’t happen until my father dies. So, I have to figure out how to take Ty Michaelson down from the inside.” I raised my eyebrows at Bertie. “Do we have a way to do that?”
“Funny you should mention it,” Bertie said with a smile as he slid a folder over to me. “You were right to have someone trail Ricky and have eyes on Ty’s favorite places in the North End.”
Flipping open the folder, I saw several glossy photos of Ty helping a blonde woman out of a car on a city street and putting his arm around her. There was also a slightly blurred close-up of her face and I frowned, wondering why she looked so familiar.
“Do I know this broad?” I asked, and then I flipped to the next photo. Setting down my drink with a loud clink, I stared at her gorgeous face, stubborn chin and pretty hazel eyes. The coloring was too light but I knew her.
“Marina Fioreno’s kid,” Bertie said, and an inexplicable grin spread over my face. “That girl, LiaGoldin, is also Ricky Gold’s cousin, Lou Goldin’s kid. She’s mixed up with Michaelson but since she’s Fioreno’s kid – that connects her to Weiss. They were partners.”
My gaze flicked to Bertie. “She’s Michaelson’s?”
