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Chapter Twenty-Five

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Alina stepped into the small, family-owned Italian restaurant and looked around. The dining area was half-filled with patrons finishing up their lunch, and her dark eyes scanned the tables briefly, searching. Not seeing who she was looking for, she turned toward the desk near the front of the restaurant. Before she could open her mouth, a solidly built man in black slacks and a gray shirt that did little to conceal the firearm at his side emerged from a swinging door in the wall a few feet behind the hostess desk. He nodded to her as he strode forward, saying something in a low voice to the waiter behind the desk as he passed.

“Mr. Solitto’s expecting you,” he said, turning his attention back to Alina. “You can follow me.”

She followed him through the dining area without a word and he led her to a set of double doors in the back corner. Opening one, he motioned for her to go in and Alina stepped through the door, keeping one eye on him as she did so.

She found herself in a private entertaining area capable of seating about thirty patrons. However, there were only four present. Frankie Solitto, the head of the New Jersey family, was seated at a table on the far side of the room with a man whom Viper immediately recognized as Stefan Delgado, his chief enforcer. Two bodyguards stood just inside the door and, as she entered, they turned toward her. The one on the right motioned for her to raise her hands and she sighed silently, raising them until they were level with her shoulders. Her eyes met Frankie’s across the length of the room.

“Is this really necessary?” she asked, one eyebrow crooked.

He smiled faintly, the lines at the corners of his eyes deepening.

“Just a formality,” he replied, watching as his guard began to pat her down. “I’m sure you understand.”

Frankie Solitto was still an imposing personality, despite the fact that she had gotten to know him somewhat over the past year. He was on the taller side, with wide shoulders and graying hair along his temples. He still looked good for his age, and hadn't allowed himself to get soft around the middle as most older generation Italians did. He kept himself fit and solid, exuding an undeniable strength that would make anyone think twice before trying to take him on, physically or otherwise. His olive skin was beginning to show the lines of his age, but his deep-set eyes were still alert.

Alina never took her gaze from those eyes as her escort from the restaurant came in behind her and closed the door. The holster in the small of her back was empty, as was the one at her ankle that normally housed her combat knife. She had removed the weapons before entering the restaurant out of respect for Solitto. However, if the meathead running his hands all over her didn’t stop his groping, her good intentions would go out the window.

The guard finally finished and looked over to Frankie with a nod, stepping back. Alina was just lowering her hands when she felt a hard, metal barrel press into her left kidney. Her eyes narrowed dangerously and there was a split second of deadly silence. She saw Frankie stiffen and Stefan reach for his weapon. That was all she needed to see.

Her left hand moved behind her as she spun swiftly to the left, grabbing the barrel of the 9mm and angling it upwards at the same time that her right leg hooked around the man’s left leg. She pulled his leg out from under him and the pistol discharged, firing into the ceiling with a suppressed pop. Her attacker lost his balance, and she wrapped her arm around his neck as he began to fall, ripping the gun away from him with her other hand. Hauling him up against her as a shield, she turned to face the bodyguard who was groping her seconds before. He already had his weapon out, but before he could fire, Viper shot him in the forehead. He swayed, his eyes widening in shock, before he fell.

Viper felt rather than heard the other bodyguard move behind her. She kicked her human shield’s knee, releasing her hold on his neck as he fell with a grunt. Presented with his head below her, she leveled a sharp blow to the back of his skull with the butt of his gun. Pivoting swiftly, she went low and swung her leg in an arc, sweeping the legs of the other bodyguard out from under him. He began to fall and, as he did so, she planted one hand on the floor and flipped herself into a one-handed hand-stand, hooking her other leg around his neck. With a quick movement, she used her leg to spin him around, snapping his neck. Following him down to the floor, she released her leg and landed easily on her feet in a crouch.

It was all over in seconds, and Viper raised her eyes to the two men at the table on the other side of the room. Her heart rate settled again from the unexpected physical exertion and she straightened up from her crouched position slowly, her eyes on Frankie and Stefan. The low burning anger that was constantly present inside her these days tried to surface, but she tamped it down. Emotion had no place here.

Stefan had drawn his Glock and was just getting to his feet. As one, both he and Viper raised their weapons, pointing them at each other.

“You’d better start talking, Frankie,” Viper advised, her voice icy.

Frankie reached out and pressed Stefan’s arm down, lowering the Glock.

“That did not come from me,” he said, pushing his chair back and standing. He came around the table and strode forward, his eyes on the three bodies on the floor. “I didn’t authorize that.”

Viper studied his face for a moment, then slowly lowered the gun, slipping her finger off the trigger. As soon as she lowered her weapon, Stefan slowly holstered his.

“Are they all dead?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

“Two are,” she said. “The one who started it should be alive.”

Frankie shot her a look under thick brows. “Why?”

“For information.”

He grunted and nodded, then motioned to Stefan.

“Get him into a chair and secure him,” he commanded, “and lock those doors.”

Stefan nodded and came over to the group by the door. Alina watched as he bent down and pulled a leather belt off one of the corpses. He took it over to the double doors and looped it around the two handles, securing it tightly.

Frankie turned to Alina and held out his arm, motioning to the table.

“My apologies. Come sit down while Stefan takes care of Angelo,” he said. “Keep the gun. In future, I’ll understand if you prefer to come armed. That was inexcusable.”

Alina glanced at Stefan, who had turned to the unconscious Angelo and was busy tying his wrists together with zip ties. Her lips trembled despite her wariness. Leave it to the mob to carry zip ties to lunch.

After a second of hesitation, she turned and walked with Frankie to the table across the room. Bowls of pasta and bread were in the center, along with a glass carafe of red wine and a pitcher of ice water. Frankie reached the table and pulled out the chair next to his for her to sit.

“Please.”

Viper tucked the gun into her back holster before seating herself in the offered chair. He seated himself again, glancing at her.

“What happened to your neck?” he asked, motioning to the gauze bandage.

“This wasn’t my first skirmish today,” she replied, her voice even.

Frankie frowned.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” he said in a low voice, sitting back in his chair and studying her. “That sounds like things aren’t going so well for you.”

She smiled faintly. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“That I don’t doubt.” He reached for his glass of water. “I heard about what happened to Agent Walker on Friday. Is she okay?”

Alina watched as Stefan hauled the unconscious Angelo into a chair and proceeded to tie his ankles to the chair legs.

“She’s fine,” she said shortly.

Frankie glanced at her. “And yet here you are, prepared to call in that favor I owe you.”

Alina turned her dark eyes to his. “You see more than many would give you credit for.”

He acknowledged that with a slight incline of his head, then motioned to the pasta and bread.

“Have you eaten? The penne vodka is particularly good.”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Alina turned her head and watched as Stefan walked back to the table. Angelo was still out cold, but he had been tied securely into the chair. When he woke up, he wasn’t going anywhere.

“I would introduce you to Stefan, but I don’t think I’ve ever caught your name,” Frankie said as his enforcer sat in the chair on the other side of him.

A swift, cold smile passed her lips. “You can call me Raven.”

Frankie shot her a quick look under his eyebrows and then glanced at the man beside him.

“Stefan, meet Raven. Raven, Stefan.”

Stefan nodded to her and she nodded back.

“Any idea why Angelo thought it would be a good idea to stick a gun in your back?” Frankie asked conversationally, reaching for a piece of garlic bread and going back to his lunch as if the interruption had never occurred.

“Aside from your ordering him to do so?”

Frankie frowned, glancing at her. “I already told you I had nothing to do with that.”

“Since when do your men do anything without your say so?” she asked softly, her gaze steady.

He set down his bread and sat back. “Since just now.”

Stefan grunted.

“There’s another possibility,” he said gruffly, breaking his silence. “I heard something yesterday that might mean something.”

Frankie and Viper looked at him and he shrugged. “Sorry, boss. I was gonna talk to you after your meeting with her.”

Alina raised an eyebrow. “So talk now.” 

Stefan flicked her a look that would have made most men very nervous for their continued good health.

“It’s Family business.”

“It’s my business now,” she retorted coldly.

Frankie raised a hand placatingly.

“What did you hear?” he asked Stefan.

“It’s the Casa Reinos Cartel, boss,” he said reluctantly. “Some of the guys have been working with them.”

Anger flared in Frankie’s eyes and he stared at his enforcer in silence for a moment. When he finally broke the silence, his voice was soft and deadly.

“What?”

Stefan nodded and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“I think they’ve been bought. I’ve been putting together a list of names.”

Alina turned her gaze to the two bodies near the door thoughtfully.

“And were they on it?” Frankie demanded, waving a hand toward the three inanimate figures.

“Yes.”

“Then why the hell did you suggest they come today instead of Carlos and his brothers?”

Stefan looked at him steadily.

“Because I knew you’d want to take care of them. I figured after we were done talking, you wouldn’t have to go far. I didn’t know Angelo would try to clip her.”

Alina turned her gaze to Stefan’s face.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked softly.

Stefan shrugged.

“No, only that Frankie likes you,” he replied. “And after what you just did, I can see why.”

Frankie looked at her sharply.

“You know something,” he stated, his eyes narrowing. “Does this have to do with that bandage on your neck and the trouble Ms. Walker seems to have gotten herself into?”

Alina’s lips tightened. “If you had nothing to do with what just happened, then it would appear so.”

Before he could reply, a low groan came from the chair across the room. Stefan looked at Frankie, who nodded before going back to his lunch. Stefan pushed his chair back and picked up one of the knives from the table.

“Are you sure about the penne?” Frankie asked her as Stefan walked over the chair. “I’d offer you something else, but the less people in here right now, the better.”

Alina smiled in some amusement. “I’m not hungry.”

Frankie picked up the carafe, pouring wine into two clean wine glasses. Across the room, Stefan stood behind Angelo’s chair, waiting for him to open his eyes. Frankie pushed one of the glasses over to her.

“Then have a glass of wine,” he said. “We can’t have Angelo thinking you’re not an honored guest.”

Alina met his eyes and read the silent command in them. He wanted to present a united front, and a show of strength to his traitor. She nodded slowly and accepted the wine, setting it before her. Another groan emanated from the chair and Angelo’s head rolled, then his eyes opened.

“What the...” he began, then stopped abruptly when he caught sight of Alina sitting next to Frankie. “You bitch!”

Angelo jerked on his arms as he tried to get up, then let out a string of curses as he realized his arms and legs were held securely against the chair. He jerked his arms, testing the strength of the zip ties, and cursed again when they held fast, cutting into his skin.

“What’s going on?” he demanded angrily, glaring at Frankie. “What the hell, man?”

Frankie sipped his wine, setting the glass down purposefully before going back to his pasta. After a scooping a forkful of penne vodka into his mouth, he chewed while he considered Angelo in silence. Then, swallowing, he nodded to Stefan.

Stefan moved forward and looped a belt around Angelo’s throat, pulling back sharply. He gasped for air and struggled against the unrelenting leather. His eyes began to bulge out of his head and his face was turning a peculiar shade of purple when Frankie finally made a movement with his hand. Stefan eased the pressure and Angelo gasped, sucking in deep gulps of air.

“You tell me, Angelo,” Frankie said, reaching for another piece of garlic bread. “You’re the one who pulled a gun on my guest and caused the deaths of two of my guards.”

Angelo sputtered and tried to twist his head to look for the guards in question but Stefan tightened the belt again, preventing him from turning his head.

“I didn’t kill anybody!” he yelped. “Yeah, I drew on her. So what? She’s not one of us.”

Frankie stared at him for a long moment, then slowly and deliberately put down his fork.

“I’ll give you one chance,” he said, holding up a long index finger. “One. Why?”

Angelo gaped at him, his eyes big, and sweat gathered on his forehead. Viper watched dispassionately as the man evaluated his options. It was clear that he was trying to determine how much Frankie already knew, and how much he could get away with saying. Unfortunately, he took too long and Frankie grew impatient. He nodded to Stefan and the belt was pulled tight around his neck again.

“How’s the wine?” Frankie asked Viper, looking at her.

“Very good,” she answered calmly, lifting the glass to her lips. “It’s a novello, no?”

He raised his eyebrows and smiled slowly in surprise.

“You know your wines,” he approved. “You’re a woman after my own heart.”

A choking sound pulled his attention back to the man in the chair and he watched as Angelo struggled, wrenching against the zip ties that bound him. Blood appeared at his wrists as the plastic cut through his skin, but it was doubtful if he realized it. Frankie nodded to Stefan and the pressure was eased again. As Angelo began gasping for air, Frankie pushed his chair back and stood, moving out from behind the table and walking toward the chair, the linen napkin from his lap still in his hand.

“Angelo, mio vecchio amico, you’ve been with me a long time,” he said. “How long has it been now? Twelve years?”

“Fourteen,” Angelo gasped out.

“Fourteen! And in all this time, haven’t I taken care of you?” Frankie asked. “Didn’t I see to it that your mother, God rest her soul, saw out her last years in relative comfort, with the best medical care money can buy?”

“Yes, boss.”

“And didn’t I step in when your son wanted to go to Brown? Didn’t I make sure his application was accepted?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Joey’s a lawyer now, isn’t he?” Frankie continued, his voice easy. “Works for a big firm in New York, isn’t that right?”

“Boss, I...” Angelo began but Frankie waved him silent.

“You know why I did those things?” he asked, looking down at him. “Because loyalty deserves reward. You had been loyal to me, and you earned the right to be rewarded.” Frankie looked at Stefan. “Take that belt away.” 

Stefan lifted the leather strap over Angelo’s head and looked at his boss questioningly. While Angelo took deep breaths of free air, Frankie walked around the chair to join Stefan behind him. Without a word, he handed him the napkin and took the table knife, nodding to the back of Angelo’s head. Stefan gave a barely perceptible nod and Frankie moved around to Angelo’s other side.

“I don’t like seeing you tied down like this,” he said, laying his left hand on Angelo’s shoulder. “We’ve known each other too long for this. We should be able to trust each other.”

Angelo looked up at him, apprehension clear on his face.

“I do trust you,” he stammered. “You’re my Don.”

Frankie nodded and clapped his shoulder.

“That’s right,” he agreed amenably. “I am. The problem is that I no longer trust you.”

Stefan moved at the same time Frankie did, whipping the napkin around Angelo’s head to pull it tight across his mouth as Frankie drove the knife through the center of Angelo’s right hand. Angelo let out a scream that was muffled by the thick linen cloth pulled tightly across his lips.

Frankie turned to face him, placing a hand on either forearm and leaning down until he was inches from Angelo’s face.

“That’s for pulling a gun on my guest,” he told him. “Now tell me why.”

Angelo nodded and Stefan pulled the napkin away so he could speak.

“They’re giving ten grand to whoever kills her,” he gasped, sweat pouring down his face and mixing with the tears of pain streaming from his eyes. “She’s got a bounty on her head. I was just trying to make some money.”

Frankie straightened up and glanced over his shoulder at Alina. “You hear that?”

She nodded.

“Ten grand is a rip off,” she told Angelo. “I’ve had ten times that placed on my head. You made a bad choice.”

Frankie turned his gaze back to Angelo. “Who’s paying this ten grand?”

“The cartel,” Angelo said. “They’re offering it to anyone who gets to her.”

Frankie studied him in silence for a long moment.

“Tell me when you started working with the Mexicans.”

Angelo gulped. “I’m not—”

Stefan whacked him on the back of his head.

“No lies!” he snapped. “You tell your Don the truth.”

Angelo let out a noise similar to a whimper.

“Six months ago,” he gasped. “They said you’re on your way out. Face it, Frankie, they’re everywhere. They’re taking over. The Family can’t last much longer. Times change, and we have to change with them. They’re already taking over Reyes’ business. It’s just a matter of time before we’re next.”

“How much did they pay you?”

“They didn’t,” Angelo said miserably. “They threatened my wife.”

Frankie looked down at him, then shook his head.

“Angelo, you should have come to me first,” he said sadly. “This was all so unnecessary. I’ll always protect my Family.”

“I know, boss. I should have come to you.”

Frankie sighed again and bent down.

“Angelo, I’m going to pull this knife out of your hand now,” he said. “Can you keep quiet? Or do we need the gag again?”

Angelo shook his head violently.

“I’ll keep quiet.”

Frankie nodded and gripped the hilt of the knife.

“Ready?” he asked.

Angelo nodded, clenching his jaw shut, and Frankie yanked the knife out.

“Good man,” he said when Angelo let out only a muffled grunt. He leaned down again, his lips close to his ear. “Fourteen years, and it all comes down to this. Your loyalty is no longer to the Family, but mine will always be to yours.”

With a swift movement, Frankie drove the knife deep into the side of Angelo’s chest. Angelo’s mouth opened, but no sound came out as the blade pierced one of his lungs, robbing him of breath.

“Your family will be taken care of,” Frankie continued, pulling the knife out. “I see no reason for them to be punished with you.”

With those words, Frankie plunged the knife into his heart and stepped back, leaving the knife in his chest. He watched as Angelo died, then held out a hand. Stefan handed him the napkin, and Frankie began wiping the blood off his hands.

“Make arrangements for the bodies,” he told Stefan. “And make sure we know the names of everyone who’s working with the cartel. We need to clean this up before it gets any worse.”

Stefan nodded and pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. “On it.”

Frankie finished wiping his hands and dropped the bloody napkin into Angelo’s lap. Turning, he started back to the table where Alina waited.

“You knew about the bounty on your head?” he asked, circling to his chair.

“There are a lot of people coming after me,” she replied. “It wasn’t a surprise.”

“I owe you an apology that it happened in my house.” Frankie seated himself and looked at her. “There’s no excuse I can offer. It should never have happened. You came unarmed into a trap.”

Viper smiled faintly.

“I’m never unarmed. I don’t need a weapon to kill. They’re simply more expedient.”

Frankie watched her thoughtfully for a second, then sat back.

“Tell me how I can help.”

She met his gaze. “You can repay that favor.”