Yeah, I'd ignored the three calls on purpose. "And my brother?"
I could tell by his hesitation that the news wasn't good. "Sorry, boss. Nothing has changed."
"All right. Fine. Look, there is a man by the name of Michael Cappalini who will be checking with you on the street activity. You're going to give him the same level of respect that you're required to give me."
"I... Of course, boss. Where are you going?"
"Out of town. Should only be a day. Just make certain that the streets are running as required. Do you understand me?" I was already second-guessing my decision regarding Michael. Heads would roll for this shit.
At least I knew Angelo would follow orders, even though questions would be difficult to avoid within a short period of time. I had less than twenty-four hours before all hell broke loose.
The only thing I could do was make the nearly three-hour trip to Galena. I'd purchased a cabin there years before, a quiet getaway in a location no one would suspect. Even my father had no idea of the actual location. He had a getaway himself, something he'd taught me early on was important to have. I'd scoured the internet, settling on the cabin without driving to the location. I'd learned that being in the serene location had allowed me some concept of peace, even as infrequently as I'd been there. Safety would always be a concern; the ability to retreat with limited security issues imperative.
There'd been multiple assassination attempts over the years, but none so blatant as the recent atrocity. I would turn over every craggy rock to find out every player involved.
I glanced at the clock after leaving the city. It was already after ten. Tomorrow was an important day. I cringed, my blood boiling from being placed in this position.
Within thirty minutes I encountered snow-covered roads, the heavy precipitation making driving treacherous. At least I'd selected the four-wheel-drive Dodge Ram on this cold spring night. I'd also brought a heavy amount of firepower, capable of annihilating an entire army if necessary. Maybe my instinct had remained intact, prepared for anything. I had no idea what I would do if Dante and Sierra weren't secluded away in the rustic cabin, merely waiting for the storm to end.
Perhaps begin a war of my own.
Everything was a blur. The business. All the hard work I'd performed over the last few years in order to continue building the organization. The fact I'd been very much alone for so many years, refusing to believe I needed anyone in my life. Now, everything seemed clear, as if all the choices had been stripped away, leaving me forced to face the truth.
My father's harsh tactics had to end. The world of the mafia had changed during the last fifteen years and a man like my father refused to accept or move into the future. He preferred the old ways, caustic and barbaric in nature. Even the influential friends on our payroll required more money than before, their fear of being exposed more significant than their worry about what we would do to either them or their families.
A man like Carmine Francesco had no acceptance of the need for change.
We needed to expand in order to remain viable. No longer were illegal drugs as profitable as they'd once been. Plus, I was sick of hearing about death and destruction all because assholes required a needle shoved in their arm. A fix. I wanted more out of life. If Stefan survived, perhaps his less aggressive ways would help guide our father.
If he survived.
Goddamn it.
I laughed softly to myself as another strange thought hit me. I wanted normalcy. I'd invested far too much time exploring real estate options, even legitimate casinos where I could capture the entertainment market. Hell, Dominick had several successful ventures. The Francescos were poised to enter into other realms.
As long as I didn't fuck up this particular war.
I shook off the anger, concentrating on driving as the icy precipitation continued to fall. I was forced to slow down to a crawl given there were several inches of unplowed ice and snow on the roads.
There was zero reception, no way I could reach out to anyone. I wanted to believe that the explosion of Sierra's car had been a setup, forcing me out of my comfort zone. If that was the case, then someone had gone to significant trouble to make it appear as if she'd been killed. This added another layer of distrust.
The darkness was oppressive, the defogger unable to keep the windshield warm enough to avoid ice buildup. I leaned forward, rubbing the sleeve of my coat against the glass, squinting in order to see any concept of a road in front of me. I'd driven to the cabin at least a dozen times, but the darkness as well as issues with the GPS left me following only my memories.
By the time I saw a sign for Galena, I was overwrought, unable to think about anything but putting a bullet in Axel's brain. As if that would do any good. My gut told me Dominick had been right. Axel was a nobody playing the role of a lifetime. He was the front man for something much larger.
My instincts continued to fall to one word, but I hesitated to allow the thought to fester. If I was wrong...
Every muscle was tense, my heart racing the closer I got to the turnoff. There'd been no signs of a wreck but given the rate of the snowfall, if Dante had run off the road and into the forest, it would take time for anyone to find them. The windshield wipers weren't able to keep up with heavy precipitation, ice mixing in. There was no light to highlight the turnoff, forcing me to turn sharply. While the truck skidded a few feet, the massive vehicle remained solid, maneuvering the slickened roads with relative ease.
The cabin was remote, with only a few neighbors within miles. I passed two others that appeared to be vacant. In fact, there were no vehicles of any kind. Now the rage had overtaken me, driving me to the point of madness. My entire body was shaking, a cold chill skimming down my spine. By the time I reached my cabin, I was almost numb.
Everything was dark, pitch black and there were no vehicles within sight. At that very moment, images from the past rushed into my mind, a life that I'd been born into and one that had ripped away every ounce of good my mother had attempted to teach me. Jesus Christ. I was pathetic.
I pulled close to the cabin, the headlights still unable to pick up any sign of another vehicle. I had to play this like any other situation. Both Dante and Sierra could be inside, kept at gunpoint, whoever had staged her death realizing I'd come here eventually. There were certainly plenty of locations to hide a number of vehicles. I cut the engine and immediately reached for my weapons.
The only way anyone would have found out that this cabin exists was by looking through land records, not the usual tactic men like Axel used. But his handler? Entirely possible. I slapped a brand-new clip in the Glock, also selecting my Beretta. I also grabbed a flashlight. I could sense there'd been someone here.
When I stepped out of the truck, I could smell smoke from a fire, but there was no way of knowing if the smell had wafted given the amount of wind. What I did notice was the set of footprints on the front porch. Only one. As I bent down, I listened for any telltale signs of life. I could only hear the howling wind. The print was from a thick work boot, very large in size.
I sucked in my breath and kept low as I reached for the door, finding it locked. I crept around back, still searching for any sign of entrance. Everything was exactly as I'd left it months before. I slipped the key into the backdoor lock and eased inside. The immediate warmth was a clear indication that the cabin had been breached.
I took two additional steps until I heard a single noise to my left. All the pent-up rage rushed to the surface. With both hands on the barrel, I shifted to the left, prepared to fire.
"Lorenzo! Don't!"
Bang!
I heard her sultry voice shouting over the single gunshot, and everything seemed to fade to black. At that very moment, I knew that I'd fallen in love with her. Correction. That I'd been in love with her for four years.
And because of that, I'd killed one of my own soldiers. Sierra
Terror.
The unknown of who was outside had been terrifying in every manner.
The trip had been harrowing given the snow and ice, but at least Dante had proven to be kind as well as communicative.