This isn’t a rescue mission. It’s the beginning of a massacre.
“How the fuck did you not know your wife is a Scutari?” Gio’s question cuts through the heavy silence in the SUV as we tear through New York.
I’m in the backseat, one of my men behind the wheel, with my brothers and the rest of our convoy roaring close behind.
“I did know. She didn’t.” My jaw clenches so tight my molars ache.
I was going to tell her when she was ready to hear it, but last night wasn’t the time. She couldn’t handle any more. Maybe that was a damn mistake, but it’s too late now.
Chyort.Damn it.What the hell are they doing to you right now, moya ptichka?
I don’t even want to imagine.
“Did the Italians know about her?” Devlin cuts through my thoughts, heavy with his Irish brogue.
“No, not at first. From what we learned, Elio did this on his own.”
Gio scoffs. “Elio’s a fucking lunatic. You ever met him?”
I nod once. “Years ago. Did not like him. Now he will die.”
Devlin grins, eyes flashing. “Bloody hell. I’ll help you skin the bastard myself, and I don’t even like your mug.”
“Feeling is mutual.”
Though deep down, I’m grateful they came without hesitation. As soon as Konstantin reached out about logistics, since they both live in New York, Gio and Devlin not only sent their men, but showed up themselves. That kind of loyalty means something in a world like ours. And I never forget a debt.
The SUV rolls to a stop about a block from the warehouse where her GPS last pinged. Maybe they’ve moved her by now, but this is the only trail we have left.
Industrial zone. Dead streets. Blocks of steel buildings and vacant lots. The kind of place people disappear into when no one is meant to hear their screams.
Grabbing the duffle with a few handguns and a rifle, I exit, the door slamming behind me, and we’re heading toward the building. Every second she’s out of my reach, it’s like something inside me is tearing open.
I’m coming, detka.
And I’m bringing death with me. If she’s in that building, I won’t just walk out with her. I will level the place to the ground.
They have no idea what they’ve done.
I was born in blood. Raised in it. Shaped by it.
But Fiona? She was the one thing I never expected to need. And now that I’ve had her, touched her, tasted her, watched her fucking smile at me, there’s nothing I won’t do for her. No line I won’t cross. No man I won’t kill.
They don’t know me, not yet. But they will.
Boots hammering over cracked concrete, I head for the entrance with everyone right behind. Once we arrive, I turn the knob slow, gun up and ready. The door gives an inch, then two, before I slip inside, eyes sweeping the room. There are metal stairs ahead and a single man off to the right, back to me, rifle hanging low at his side.
I slide the flip knife from my pocket and close in behind him just as he starts to turn, eyes going wide. His hand jerks toward the trigger, but I’m already there, faster than the fear hitting his face.
The blade slices clean across his throat. He lets out a wet, gurgling sound as his body goes slack. I catch him before he hitsthe concrete and lower him to the ground, leaving him there in silence.
Everyone’s behind me now, guns drawn, while I replace the knife with the rifle from the duffle.
“Alyosha, ty tam?” someone calls from above the stairs.Alyosha,are you there?
When no one answers, he appears, and I greet him with a bullet between his eyes, killing him instantly.
Then chaos erupts.
