148

GIANNI

There is no sense of peace in the house. No hope of calm. Not while it's crawling with guards at all hours. Not with Jack out there somewhere, plotting how he's going to blow my world to pieces for taking his son's life.

I sent Roger home an hour ago against his wishes. He needs sleep–we both do, but I can't imagine willing my mind to quiet down long enough for sleep to catch up to me. I would only toss and turn and wake Caterina. One of us needs to be sharp, meaning he needs a break while I pace my office or check in with the guards down at the front gate walking the perimeter. Watching. Waiting.

If this goes on much longer, I don't know how my nerves will stand it. A man in my position can expect to spend sleepless nights. I've lived with strain, stress, tension, to the point where I thought I was impervious. But this? Everything that's ever mattered is at stake, and at the moment, I can't do anything but wait for Jack to show his face. Roger's exhausted his extensive contact list. We have guys combing every square mile between this compound and the property Jack's been living and working out of. We even have eyes on his Miami residence in case he flew down there to regroup.

Where is he? What's his next move?

A whiskey might dull the incessant pounding in my head, but I can't risk dulling my senses. I can only grind my teeth and push through, ignoring the bar cart while I pace for lack of anything else to do. Patience has never been one of my virtues.

The ringing of my phone pierces the silence. I pounce on it, snatching it from the desk. The sight of Sebastian's name, especially at two in the morning, takes my already rapid pulse and sends it into overdrive.

"This had better be good," I murmur without greeting him.

"Of course it's good. Why else would I be calling you at this time of night? I did it. It finally happened."

My grip on the phone tightens."What are you talking about? I'm not in the mood for games."

"This isn't a game."

So why does he sound so jumpy? Almost hyper. "Tell me you have good news."

"Excellent news. And if you want what I know you want more than anything, you will meet me at the address I'm about to provide."

Easy. Calm. I can't afford to leap without looking first, especially when it sounds like the kid is on speed. His breathing erratic, the words pouring from him in a rapidfire stream.

"Is this about what I think it's about?"

"You'll find out when you get here."

"I'm going to need more than that, Sebastian."

"Do I have to spell it out? I have something you want. This merchandise isn't the kind I can let out of my sight. So either you can claim it, or I'm going to have to. Either way, it needs to be dealt with."

"How many men am I bringing with me?"

"None. You won't need them. This is the part where you trust me."

Trust him? My heart is about to tear its way out of my chest. If he has Moroni, why won't he use his name? What's with speaking in these cryptic codes?

"Give me the address," I grunt, scribbling it down on a notepad before tearing the page free.

"It shouldn't take you more than twenty minutes to get here. I'll be waiting." With that, the line goes dead, leaving me staring at my phone while the sound of my heartbeat fills my ears.

Why was he so cryptic? That's what bothers me, the question that rolls around in my head as I leave my office and stride quickly down the hall, to the staircase. I take the steps two at a time before rushing down the hall as silently as I can, slowly opening the bedroom door.

She left the lamp on the nightstand burning, and a book is open on her chest. She fell asleep while reading. I can imagine her waiting for me as long as she could before there was no fighting sleep anymore. Considering she blew a man away three nights ago, she's taken things well. No outbursts beyond the breakdown at the scene. I'd be worried if she hadn't at least wept after what she went through. Beyond that, she's been strong, and resilient. She knows what needs to be done now and can accept it. Yet another example of her belonging at my side. She was made for me, for this ruthless world. My queen.

For a moment, I take in her peaceful beauty. The dark locks fanned across the pillow, the hand curled beside her head. My little bird. She got damn lucky, escaping the crash without a scratch. It was Charles who ended up with a concussion and a broken arm, and even that seems mild when I think of how bad it could've been.

Now she's dreaming, unaware of the current battle waging a war inside my head between trusting Sebastian and possibly losing a golden opportunity. When I look at her and think about the life growing inside her, there's no choice to be made.

Whatever it takes, I'm going to protect them, and that means following Sebastian's instructions.

I walk into the closet as quietly as possible and push all the clothing out of the way, typing the code into the safe built into the wall. Weapons. I need a gun or two and maybe a knife. I strap a knife to my ankle and grab one gun, placing it at my back. Then I close the safe and walk out of the closet, my gaze lingering on Caterina for a moment longer. I'm tempted to kiss her goodbye, but I don't want her to wake up and question where I'm going. Lying to her is not an option, and I wouldn't want to anyway. We're partners in this.

I choose against it and slip out of the room. After closing the door carefully, I jog downstairs and straight out the front door. The trio of armed guards standing in the courtyard cast quizzical looks my way. I ignore them, heading straight for Roger's cottage. I'm not surprised to see the light on in the front window- he hasn't gone to bed yet. It's as much of a challenge for him to relax and let go at a time like this as it is for me.

The door swings open practically in sync with my knock on the door. "I saw you coming," he explains. He's in flannel pants, and a plain white T-shirt, so at least he made the effort to prepare for sleep.

By the time I finish rattling off all the details of Sebastian's call, his brow is lowered to the point where I can barely see his eyes. "You trust him? When he sounded half out of his mind?"

"You know how he is. He can be… theatrical at best."

"To put it mildly."

"If he's holding Moroni for me, I can't afford to pass up the opportunity. Like he said, there's only so long you can hold a guy like that before people come sniffing around. This isn't like Christopher. There's no keeping him indefinitely."

His sigh is heavy. Resigned. "You're going to go, aren't you?"

"I can't afford not to. I need him dead. We all do." I point at the house, my hand shaking with anticipation. "Those lives in there? They're all that matters. If I don't end him tonight, I'm going to regret it. One way or another, I'll regret it."

"Give me five minutes."

"I never said you were coming with me." I'm talking to the empty living room by now. He's already getting changed in the adjoining bedroom.

"I swear you're out of your damn mind. Why would you think I'd let you go alone? You might trust that little shit, but not me."

There's no use in arguing, so I don't bother. I want to get this done and over with. I pull three men together. "I want a man posted at my bedroom door, and one at Tatiana's. We'll be back as soon as we can. Roger will keep you posted."

I look over my shoulder to find him leaving the cottage in dark jeans, a leather jacket, and his T-shirt. "Do we have an address?" I hand him the paper and wait as he plugs the address into his phone. "A warehouse. No surprise. It's in Costello territory, at least. Did he ask Jack for a meeting there?"

"I don't know. I didn't ask questions," I tell him. I'm halfway to the car, which I'll be driving. I can't sit passively for another minute. I've done enough of that the past few days to last me a lifetime. This is it. I've waited so long, craving the sensation of grinding the man into dust under my heel. That craving has only intensified until now, I want blood. Knowing I'm this close to achieving what I've waited for is a heady sensation that translates to a heavy foot on the gas pedal. I'm so close. This ends tonight.

"I'll take the lead." Roger's voice is quiet, low. "Just in case. Stay back until I give you the all clear."

When I don't answer, he turns toward me. "Boss. I need you to agree with me."

"We have nothing to worry about."

"I'm going in first." When I scoff, he slaps a palm against the glovebox. "Let me do my job. I'm not going to watch you walk into a trap. I need to check and make sure it's safe."

"Do what you feel is best." I'm not going to fight over something this inconsequential when I prefer imagining Jack's agony. He kidnapped my little bird. He could've killed my daughter. He took her mother from her. He tried to use my unborn child against me. There is nothing painful enough for him–but that won't keep me from trying to make him feel that pain.

The warehouse sits in a quiet part of town surrounded by tall, boxy buildings with darkened windows. They cast long shadows over an empty street, and I swear I taste foreboding in the air. I couldn't have chosen a better location for what's about to happen. I know it is. I feel it. He's nearby, and every breath he takes is one closer to his final gasp. I slow the car to turn into the fenced-off lot.

We're a few dozen feet from the warehouse when I roll to a stop. Neither of us speaks as we study the scene: five dark cars sit empty and the wide door leading inside the brick structure sits slightly ajar beneath a bare light bulb.

"I don't see anyone out here," Roger muses before removing the Glock from his waistband. "That's a lot of cars to have nobody posted outside."

"I'll call him." I look away from the door long enough to pull up the last incoming number and place the call. When he answers, I mutter, "I'm outside."

"Come in." The door swings open, and Sebastian appears. He looks around for a moment before spotting my car, then waves his arm. He's smiling like a man greeting long-awaited guests.

"He's either insane or… no, I'm going with insane." Roger opens his door, and I do the same. Sebastian eyes the gun visible in Roger's hand-his brows drawn together with concern, but he doesn't say a word. A good sign. If this was a trap, he'd tell us we don't need to be armed. It's what I would do.

I can barely hear over the heavy thud of my heart by the time we stop in the circle of light thrown off by the overhead bulb. "I told you to come alone, but I figure you two are joined at the hip, so it doesn't matter." Sebastian looks Roger up and down, smirking.

"What's this about?" I demand. "Tell me he's waiting for me in there."

He's still smirking when he jerks his head toward the door. "See for yourself."

"Wait." Roger throws out an arm, blocking me. "I'd like an explanation. There's a lot of cars out there for only a few people to be here."

"They won't be driving home. They won't be driving anywhere. There are two people from Moroni's side still breathing: Jack, and his oldest daughter." His eyes gleam while a satisfied smile stretches his lips. "Congratulations are in order. I'm getting married."

"He agreed to your deal?"

"Big time. He was so desperate to end you after Donovan, he would have agreed to anything. He gave me his daughter, and I was supposed to give him the men and the money to get to you." He lifts a shoulder. "Whoops. I guess I lied."

I can't stand waiting any longer. "I'm going in."

"One second." Sebastian's jovial smile slips, revealing the cunning animal underneath. The sight makes my hackles rise. "I'm going to need a little more than we first discussed when we made this deal."

"Why am I not surprised?" Roger mutters, shaking his head.

"Out with it," I urge, ignoring the comment. "What do you want?"

"Everything. I want all of Moroni's holdings."

Roger barely stifles a laugh, but I find no humor in this. My impulse is to agree, to give him everything and anything he wants so long as it means putting an end to this. Instead, I think back on the information we compiled on Jack's finances, his holdings, the properties scattered over the East Coast. Compared to my empire, it's nothing. An anthill in the shadow of an armed fortress.

But there was a reason I didn't want the kid to get his hands on everything all at once. The fear of him becoming too powerful, too fast. Thinking back on the sum of Jack's meager little portfolio, I feel better about the prospect. "It's yours."

Roger's head swings my way. It's either wisdom or shock that keeps his mouth closed. Not that I need to hear what he's thinking. This is my call. This is my family. My well-deserved vengeance. "Now. Can we proceed?"

"Be my guest." He steps aside, wearing a victorious smile, and I move forward into the brightly lit space. Instead of a massacre involving my men and my ex-wife, it's the sight of a prone Jack Moroni that catches my eye. He's curled on his side, hands bound behind his back, ankles bound, and a gag in his mouth. Sweat coats his skin and soaks through his suit. The blood spattered on his jacket most likely came from the dead man lying a few feet away. He's not the only one, either, which explains the metallic tang hanging in the air. I count four dead bodies in all.

"Please… let him go…" The soft, pitiful whimpers catch my attention, drawing my gaze to a girl whose red face is swollen and slick with tears. A pair of men flank her, one hand wrapped around each arm. "Just let us go, please!!" I recognize one of the men as Damien, Sebastian's brother.

"What do you want us to do with her?" he asks, appearing almost annoyed.