The experiences had followed me into my dreams, nightmares that had surfaced several times a month. They always ended the same, a beautiful damsel in distress murdered for a decision I'd made.
"Save me!" she screamed, flinging out her arms, her face and neck covered in strings of blood.
I hissed, fisting my mouth from the memory of the same fucking dream hitting me hard the night before. Hell, it wasn't like I'd gotten much sleep, the two hours coming fitfully. There'd been a difference from the wretched shit I'd been forced to endure for years, the horrible visions plaguing me.
The once blurred face of the girl in my dream finally had an identity.
Sierra...
God. Damn. It.
This time my thoughts of blood had everything to do with hunting down Axel Movino and gutting him like the pig he was. He'd been a thorn in my family's side for almost four years. While there had been an attempt at laying out turf boundaries in an effort to keep the peace, the asshole had obviously crossed the line. No one fucked with my world. No one.
That also included Sierra's father.
My family had certainly gotten 'friendly' with several officers of the law, including the police commissioner over the years. A portion of our relationships were nothing more than based on a friendly handshake; others involved greasing whatever wheel kept them quiet and out of our hair. Charities. Auctions. Real estate deals. We were creative in our endeavors.
Then others we simply threatened.
David Fox was in a category of his own, pretending to be an honorable man. I knew otherwise, choosing not to play the card until absolutely necessary. He had no idea I was onto him.
I'd had the displeasure of being in the man's company on two separate occasions, both times leaving me with a bad taste in my mouth. David held a vendetta for my family, making it his mission to take us down.
He'd almost succeeded on one of the occasions, my arrest making national news. When there'd been no witnesses to corroborate a murder that I had nothing to do with, he screamed bloody murder that I'd committed yet another felony. Things had gotten ugly from there. If I'd made the connection all those years ago in Cancun, things might have turned out differently. As it was, I'd been forced to be extra cautious in my activities given his penchant for delving into every aspect of my life.
What continued to trouble me was that I wasn't entirely trusting of Sierra. I'd easily been able to find out what had occurred the night before, my soldiers arriving on the scene almost the same time as the police. What pissed me off were some of the details. To have Axel committing the actual murder meant there was something else going down. If I had to guess, there were motions being made to try to take over our turf once again. How Lucas was connected was something I would grill Sierra on.
The fact she'd agreed to the terms of the deal I'd proposed hadn't surprised me. She was terrified and rightfully so, with seemingly nowhere else to turn. Whatever she was mixed up in I knew had set itself on a course leading straight to hell, even if she had no idea what she'd done. Axel would stop at nothing to track her down, killing the only witness who'd ever caught him in a crime without hesitation.
"You wanted to see me, boss?" Dante asked as he walked into my office.
I took another sip of coffee and grimaced, in no mood for the bitter taste. I'd experienced enough of that already. I stood staring out the window at the landscaping, the spring flowers adding a festive touch to an otherwise cold house. This had never really been a home to me, even though I'd paid a pretty penny for it. My father had shouted to the rain that I needed to settle down, another condition of taking over as the Don. "Yeah, we have a problem."
"I figured we did. The girl's a con artist. Isn't she?"
"Sierra Fox is now my possession," I said as I turned in his direction, making certain he was able to see the conviction on my face as well as the slight hint of anger for his assumption.
He swallowed visibly, nodding twice. "I meant no disrespect, boss."
"None taken. While she is to be protected at all costs and make certain you relay that to every other Capo and soldiers, her presence has presented a problem."
Or perhaps an opportunity depending on how this played out.
"What kind of problem?"
"The murder of the senator's son was likely handled by Axel Movino, a crime she witnessed."
"You're shitting me. How the hell could she get close to that pig?"
I sighed and shoved the coffee mug onto my desk. "Not something I'd kid about and that's the interesting question I need an answer to. Put word on the street that I want to know about any issues with interference or collection of funds immediately."
Dante moved closer. "You think he's gonna muscle in?"
"There is a distinct possibility and that just can't happen. Tighten the screws, Dante. If you hear anything, call me. If you see anything, take care of it. And if you even believe anyone is capable of betraying me, handle it."
"Will do, boss. What about the girl? Did she really witness the murder? That would make her expendable in the pig's eyes."
My Capo knew Axel's reputation.
I gazed toward the open office door, trying to figure out what I was going to say to her. "That's what I'm going to figure out. That's why she came here in the first place." While I'd always thought Axel to be little more than a common street thug, he'd developed powerful friends from Chi-town all the way to New York. Perhaps I'd underestimated him and his influence.
"Is there anything else I can do?"
"Find out everything you can about Axel and what he's involved in. I need to learn every detail about the asshole. Also, select two of your top soldiers to come to the house. I will have business to take care of starting later today and Sierra is not to be left alone. Is that clear?"
Dante grinned. "You got it, boss. I'll take care of it."
"And Dante, other than the two soldiers you select, make certain not a single soul knows that she is here."
He nodded again, understanding exactly what I was saying. Although I had what I believed to be loyal soldiers working for me, a single slip of the tongue, whether accidental or intentional, could mean the start of a war.
She would be considered an enemy and a weakness.
After he left, I moved toward my desk, sitting down. I was unable to focus or clear my head. I'd always been an angry man, something my father had attempted to beat out of me, his methods of punishment extremely harsh. While I'd learned about holding my tongue and listening, following any kind of rules wasn't in my repertoire.
Neither was patience.
Or acceptance.