Last night was fun. Between dinner with the family, a special moment with Valentina, and spilling the guts of an enemy, all in all it was a full evening.
Normally, the highlight would be listening to the screams and pleas of the man hanging upside down from the chain, but when the job was done, my mind went back to Valentina and the way the moonlight shone on her face when our lips met, and the sweet sound she made.
Alessio was particularly aggressive with our prisoner. It seems the sniper bore the brunt of his frustration. A branding iron, a combat knife, and his bare hands were his weapons of choice. I think the only reason I was there was to calm Alessio down long enough to extract information from Diaz Sanchez. That was his name. He was a hired hitman who refused to give up his boss. He took the pain for hours and hours. In the end, we got all we were going to get out of the guy, and Alessio slit his throat to end it all.
This leaves us with more unanswered questions, the biggest being who the hell hired Diaz and why were they targeting me. That much we did find out. I was relieved that Valentina wasn’t the target. Alessio and I talked afterward, and we figure the best way to cripple Il Destino is to eliminate the people at the top. Since Alessio is heavily guarded, that leaves his consigliere and his underbosses.
I guess I drew the short straw and became their first target. Now that Gabe is assigned to Valentina and Cassius is out for several weeks recovering from his gunshot wound, I have to decide who I’ll keep by my side. I’ve trained many men in my time, and as such, I can tell immediately who has the cunning and athletic ability to watch my back.
This morning, Alessio insisted I come by his place to discuss this further. I barely make it through the front entrance when I hear Alessio’s booming voice.
“Gattina, if I catch you one more time lifting a basket or anything else larger than a change purse, I’m tying you to the bed until you have this baby.” It seems that Alessio is in a fine mood! This will be fun.
“Kinky.” Josie giggles as her husband takes the basket filled with clothes out of her hands and sets it on the floor.
“Josie,” he warns.
Time to step in, I think. “Good morning.” I announce myself. “Do us all a favour, Josie, stop poking the bear. He’s unbearable on a good day, and lately, he’s been terrifying. The men are avoiding him like the plague.”
Josie glances up at her husband, whose jaw is locked tight and who is glaring at me with laser-beam eyes, certain to have blown me into little bits if they could. Josie moves up on her tiptoes and plants a kiss on his jaw and murmurs something softly in his ear. His face eases, his body relaxes, and he manages a hint of a smile.
“No more lifting,” he says gruffly.
“I promise,” she responds. “I am making breakfast with Santina, though. But I’ll be careful, and I’ll call you when it’s ready.” She heads toward the kitchen, her walk becoming a waddle as she nears her final months. The end of the month is when the baby shower that Josie’s mother and Valentina have planned for her will be held. I have a feeling there are going to be sentries at every door and window.
Just as Josie leaves, Julian arrives to join us. We wait until we’re alone in Alessio’s office before we start.
“How’s Cassius?” Alessio asks.
“Out of danger and healing. The idiot wanted to get dressed this morning to come see you to apologize,” Julian says incredulously.
“Apologize for what?” I ask.
“Not being able to warn us. When he was hit, he dropped to the ground, his phone fell out of his pocket, and he couldn’t get to it before he passed out. First thing he asked about was if you were okay,” Julian tells me.
“I’ll make a point of going over to his home after this to set him straight.”
“Gabe arrived this morning. He’s met Valentina,” Julian adds.
“Good.”
Before we can get into deeper conversation, Josie barges through with Santina, her housekeeper, following with a tray. They’re in and out so quickly that we don’t have time for anything more than a quick thanks.
“Back to the matter at hand,” Alessio states while picking up a cup of coffee from the tray. “We need to get a read on who’s responsible for last night. Have there been any other attacks?”
“I didn’t think much about this last night, but the clinic was ransacked. Could be a bunch of drug addicts looking for a hit or to peddle the merchandise, but it seems random. The place was trashed. The security camera was ripped off the wall,” I say.
“I spoke with Vic Ruggerio. He mentioned that someone tried to take him out a couple of weeks ago. His men had it under control and the attacker was killed. They assumed it was the Russians after the new shipment,” Julian says. Vic is one of our underbosses. His father died six months ago, and he’s taken over his territory.
“Vic’s not a stupid man. He’s a strong leader,” I tell Alessio.
He nods in agreement. “Why attack the strongest of the team?” he says as he paces the room. “In war, you pick the weakest links to attack, then as you grow stronger, your targets become bigger. Whoever is responsible is doing the opposite.”
“What does that tell us?” Julian asks, also beginning to pace the floor, hands on his hips.
“It means they’re cocky,” I say.
“Yes.” Alessio draws out the word, his face hardening as he steps behind his desk and opens his laptop. Raffaele Di Morte’s face pops up on his screen. He’s the head of Ultimo Morte. This family started in Sicily hundreds of years ago. The father, grandfather, and great-grandfather were all very strong men, each one stronger than the one before, and each more vicious than the last They’ve never bled into the United States. They rule all of Sicily, and this was enough for them.
In the photo, Raffaele stares directly into the camera with a menacing grin. He’s got a shaved head, and smoky gray eyes that with one glance say, Don’t fuck with me. The tattoos are evident, popping up from the collar of his crisp white shirt. There’s another photo of him walking away where another intricately designed tattoo on the back of the head is apparent. By his side is an Italian actress, blonde, with sultry blood-red lips and a skimpy dress that leaves nothing to the imagination. Paparazzi are all around them, clicking cameras everywhere, but they give him a wide berth. Raffaele doesn’t give them a second look.
Julian peers over our shoulders. “Who’s that?” He’s too young to know this family. Actually, he would never have had reason to have crossed paths with Ultimo Morte.
“It may not be him,” I suggest, meeting Alessio’s gaze.
His expression says it all. “Have I ever been wrong?”
“There’s never been a whisper of Ultimo Morte in America. Even if it is him, what the fuck does he want? Why wouldn’t he approach you directly? We’ve never had a beef with them.” I’m searching for answers to questions that have no answers. Not until we speak to Raffaele.
“First you weaken a family, then you make your move,” Alessio states.
“Sir, I think we need to keep our minds open. The Russians have been a constant pain in our ass. Or perhaps a member of the Red Dragons or another gang is looking for revenge,” Julian interjects.
“True. It’s your job, Julian, to have our men hit the streets and find out all you can about the attempts made on Vic and Nic. You do what you have to do to get people talking,” Alessio orders. “All our men go out in threes.” He pauses, then adds, “Josie does not leave the house today. If she needs anything, you get it for her.” He slams the laptop shut.
“What do you need from me?” I ask.
“We’re going to dig up all we can on Raffaele Di Morte,” he commands. Julian takes off, leaving Alessio and me to tackle our issues.
* * *
Hours later, Raffaele is still a virtual ghost. Though we find plenty of pictures, information is scarce. He’s done a fantastic job of showing the media just what he wants them to see and nothing more. Alessio hates asking for help, but in this instance, we’re going to need to tap in to our allies.
The first call he makes is to Marco Moretti, the capo of La Famiglia. He’s been grooming his son, Nero, to take over for him. He’ll be a strong leader and, I daresay, better. He’s more technologically advanced and understands our world is changing dramatically, and as such, we need to adapt. Force isn’t the only weapon we have, and since our enemies are becoming more ruthless, so must we.
“Signor Moretti,” I hear Alessio say. “How are you?” After exchanging pleasantries, Alessio gets down to business. “We’ve had some strange actions occurring in Las Vegas. I’m wondering if you can shed some light on the situation.”
“It wasn’t us, Alessio. We called a truce, and we gave our word,” Marco responds, insulted, judging by his tone.
“You misunderstand me. I’m not accusing La Famiglia, but rather asking if you’ve had similar issues.” Alessio goes into further detail without giving away too much. “It doesn’t make sense,” he finishes.
“Three of our underbosses have had run-ins lately. All thwarted, but we’ve lost two men. This doesn’t make me happy,” Marco admits.
“I’m placing you on speaker. Niccolo is with me,” Alessio tells him. “How much do you know about Raffaele Di Morte?”
“Nothing. I knew his father and grandfather. I met them in my much younger years when my father sent me to Italy to make peace with Ultimo Morte when one of my father’s men ran away with the intended bride of one of their underbosses. Haven’t heard anything since.” Marco pauses, then adds, “It can’t be. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Sense or not, I feel it in my bones,” Alessio says.
“I’ll speak to Nero. We’ll run the underground network in New York, shake some trees, and see what falls out,” Marco says. “Do you think Reno—”
“Not a chance,” Alessio says. “Reno would never be that underhanded. He’s a straight shooter. If he’s got a problem, he’ll come for you, and you’ll know it’s him. But my next call is to see if he’s heard anything.”
“Dante’s a wizard with that technical shit. I swear his fingers fly when he’s in front of a computer.” Marco laughs. He’s not wrong. Reno’s younger brother is a tech savvy, self-taught genius. Hard to believe that his identical twin, Sebastian, is the complete opposite. He’s more the aggressive bruiser of the three brothers. “Nero and Reno have quite a connection. Would you like him to call?”
“No, I’ve got this, but if Nero would like to join us on the call, perhaps we can divide and conquer,” Alessio suggests.
“Nero is here and waiting. Link us in whenever you’re ready,” Marco responds before signing off.
I look at Alessio. “Two families? Why?”
“Too many unanswered questions,” Alessio grunts. He hates being in the dark about anything. He dials Reno’s private cell.
“Reno here,” Reno answers.
“It’s Alessio.”
“I’m in the middle of eliminating a fucker who tried to take out Dante.” Reno’s pissed. I mean truly furious. The calm and collected Reno Viale rarely loses his cool.
“Christ, you too?” Alessio barks into the phone.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Reno asks, his voice goes ominously quiet, like a snake slithering around his prey, ready to strike. That’s Reno’s modus operandi, quiet and lethal.
“Did you get anything out of the guy?” Alessio asks.
“Virtually nothing.”
“That’s because he only knows what he gave you. You’re wasting your time,” Alessio replies. “Same shit’s happening here and in New York. We need to get Marco and Nero on the line.”
“I have to finish what I started. I’ll call you in half an hour. Can you set it up?”
“Yeah, of course. Is Dante all right?”
“You think I’m pissed, this is nothing compared to Dante,” Reno says.
“Good. His anger may be the incentive we need. We’ll wait for your call.” Alessio hangs up and turns to me. “I hate waiting.”
“Go have breakfast with your wife.”
“Josie hates it when I don’t join her, and at this point, it will be lunch.” He sighs.
“Then go have lunch. She’s stuck in the house. Your sisters are away at school, and, God knows why, she loves your company,” I tease. “It’ll make her happy. I got calls to make, so I’ll work here.”
Alessio relents and leaves to go find his wife in this massive house, although having been around Josie this long, I’ll bet my last dollar that she’s in the new baby’s room.
* * *
The beast in Alessio is slightly soothed upon his return, just in time for Reno’s call. I quickly patch Nero into the call. The leaders of La Famiglia, Nostra Casa, and Il Destino are all in on the discussion. Nero and his consigliere, Luciano, are present. Reno and his brothers, who are his two consiglieri, and of course, Alessio and I are also involved.
“We are the three most formidable families in the Mafia, yet Raffaele is coming after all of us at once? Is he crazy?” Sebastian says.
“Considering the fact that this man is virtually a ghost in his personal endeavours, I have no clue if he’s crazy,” Alessio responds. “Niccolo and I have been searching all morning for more. We have one of our best men on the streets. He’s due to check in later tonight.”
“Nero here. Luciano and I are going to head out after this call to do the same.”
“I suggest you go in separate directions,” I say. “Two leaders for the price of one is just what Raffaele might be looking for.”
“We may be completely wrong. It could be the Russians. This Raffaele guy, he doesn’t even know me,” Dante interjects.
“Our father was acquainted with Cicco Di Morte, Raffaele’s father. Our father was an asshole, which means he may have insulted this family.” Reno’s father was a complete dick and alienated many of the families in his time. Another pompous jackass who planned to have his own son murdered.
“Even from the grave, he’s a problem,” Sebastian says, letting out a string of curses.
“That would explain the hit on Nostra Casa. And a possible reason for La Famiglia based on their history with Ultimo Morte, but what the hell is the connection to us?” I ask.
“As I said, too many unanswered questions.” Alessio sighs.
“I’m on it, but I’ll need some help,” Dante says. “I’ll need names. I’ll need a history of the past capos, dates, even their wives’ names. The more I have, the easier it will be to dig.”
“I’ll have Nero send you all I recall about them,” Marco says.
When we all hang up, I turn to Alessio. “It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“We’ll figure it out. Nothing touches Il Destino without paying a price, and no one gets near my wife and child.” Oh yeah, Alessio’s ticked, and there’s nothing more dangerous than an angry Blood King.