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“They want it open to women and fucking money.” My father’s lips curled as hate gleamed. “So that’s what they’ll get. But I don’t trust him…” His gaze went to the doorway, searching for the glowing brake lights that were now long gone. “I don’t trust him one fucking bit.”
The launderer had said before that it’d take time, said it wasn’t as simple as one transaction.
They’d laundered over a hundred million dollars of our money in their cryptocurrency schemes.
“So you’re going,” he ordered. “You’re going to fucking watch her while I get every goddamn dollar I’m owed.”
And if you don’t?The question rose.What happens then?
“So you’ll haunt that little bitch,” my father commanded as he took a step into the study. “And you’ll do what needs to be done.”
Anna’s face filled my mind. Anna who wasn’t a goddamn daughter of a Boss and someone I had to like. That twitch came at the corner of my eye again, throbbing and grating. No, Anna I liked because she wasn’t like the others. Not fucking stuck up and connected. She cared about numbers.
And fuck me…I cared about her.
4
Anna
The boat was swarmed by men dressed in black the moment we docked. I counted ten enforcers, maybe more in the frenzy. But at least double that waited for us on land, with guns drawn. Double the guards and double the attention.
I lifted my gaze to the mercenaries and met their brutal stares. I was supposed to meet a damn contact. One who’d promised they had found a way to get me and my father away from the most dangerous Mafia family of them all…the Salvatores,for good.
But as I watched the Mafia soldiers storm the boat, I knew I could kiss that hope goodbye, for tonight at least. No contact in their right mind would reach out to me, not until the chaos died down.
Shit.
“Building one.” An older guy stabbed a bloodstained finger toward the top of the rise. “Get him to the infirmary.”
“I don’t need a fucking infirmary!”Baldeon screamed as the boat rocked and swayed, turning sideways against the dock. “Just find the bastard who shot me!”
Spent shells clinked and clattered around his feet, rolling with the boat's motion. Baldeon’s white shirt was ruined, bloodsoaked and stuck to his skin. Bleeding was one thing, but it was the blowback to his reputation he cared about the most.
And in his world, reputation was worth dying for.
“I’m going to fucking murder him,” he slurred, staring up at the beefy security guard who was holding him mostly upright. “Then I’m going to murderhisentirefucking family.”
Glass crunched under my boots as I huddled against the wall of the boat, far away from the others. I might be naive, but I wasn’t dumb. We'd taken the hit thirty minutes after leaving the mainland, heading for a small island off the coast of Mauritius. Amongst the sea spray and the endless dark, I'd heard the terrifyingcrack.
A crack that ripped through the window beside me, shattered glass cascading to the deck in its wake. Baldeon had been chatting up a redhead, giving it his best effort, at least, when he jerked from the hit, spun, and went down.
When the shot rang out, I'd pressed my spine against the wall, and there I’d stayed, watching it all unfold like a goddamn coward. Guns were drawn in an instant. I’d never seen a storm erupt that fast…or that savagely. Bodyguards fired back, even Baldeon's guy did his best, driving himself to stand with a bloodcurdling roar to empty his gun over the ocean.
Those were not your average guys.
They weren’t even bad guys.
They were the worst of the worst. Connected in ways I didn’t understand, and yet here I was, risking my damn life to find a way to get as far away from them as I could. I swallowed and watched the men moving throughout the boat. I mean how long would it take to make contact? If they were watching, maybe a few hours…a day at the most.
A day and I’d be out of here, huddled under some tarpaulin in the dead of night as we raced from the island in a speedboat. A day, then we’d find dad and leave. Then we’d never have to think about laundering dirty money ever again.
My world was numbers and algorithms, not guns, not…Mafia. Not a world where boats were shot up in the middle of the night, a world where men like Baldeon vowed the kind of revenge that made me shiver with fear. Not a world where imposing concrete buildings sat atop an island in the middle of nowhere.
Bloodcurdling screams came as they carried him from the boat. If gossip could be believed, he was the next in line for his family’s Mafia throne. A throne that looked like it was about to be empty.
I lifted my gaze to the lights of the buildings.Wait for the signal,dad’s words filled me.They’ll come get you, Button, and you won't have to hear the word Mafia ever again.
Never hear about them again? After the last two years of watching dad work day and night to wash their blood money…that sounded like a second chance at life. One we were desperate for.
