A sharp intake of breath on the other end. “Are you certain?”
“I’m looking at their business card with the black circle right now.”
“What do you need?” my cousin asks, no hesitation, no questions about how or why. This is why I called him first. He understands what needs to be done.
“Get to the hospital. Take Gia to the estate and keep her under lock and motherfucking key until I get there.” My fingers tighten around the phone. “She’s involved in this shit.”
“I’ll handle it,” he promises, and I can already hear him moving, barking orders to someone nearby.
“Enzo,” I add, “she’s knocked out right now. But if she tries to run, break her legs. I want her alive when I get back.”
I hang up without waiting for his response and immediately dial Remus. My cousin, the Don, the man who has always understood the fire that burns inside me better than anyone.
He answers with a grunt. “This better be important.”
“I’m about to burn this fucking city down,” I tell him, voice flat. “Thought you should know.”
A pause, then a low chuckle that holds no humor. “What happened?”
“Ask Enzo,” I snap. “I don’t have time. This is just a fucking courtesy heads up.”
Remus goes silent, and in that silence, I hear understanding. “How wide a radius?” he asks finally, already calculating the fallout, the bodies, the fires that will soon light up Cleveland’s skyline.
“As wide as it needs to be.”
Another pause. “Do your thing.”
I hang up, already opening my car door. Most of my men have gathered now, seven of them standing in a loose semicircle, waiting for orders. I assume the last four are guarding Gia. Their faces betray nothing—no fear, no doubt, just the grim understanding of what comes next.
“Find anything connected to North Coast Effects or the Kearney brothers,” I instruct, voice clipped. “Warehouses, offices, homes. I want eyes on every property they own within the hour.”
I assign sectors of the city to each man, methodical despite the rage boiling beneath my skin. Two to the west side industrial area, where most of their warehouses are likely to be. Three to track down residential addresses and personal haunts. Two more to monitor police channels and traffic cameras.
“If you find her, you call me immediately,” I stress. “And if you find any of the Kearneys…” A cold smile curves my lips. “Don’t kill them. That pleasure belongs to me.”
They disperse like smoke, black SUVs pulling away one after another until I’m alone in the parking lot. I pop the trunk of my car, revealing what looks like ordinary luggage to the casual observer. It’s not.
The black duffel bag nestled between the spare tire and a first aid kit contains everything I need to send a message that will echo through Cleveland’s underworld for years to come.
I unzip it carefully, inventorying the contents with practiced precision. Five small thermite charges, custom-made by a former military engineer who owes me a favor. A roll of detonation cord. Two remote triggers. A canister of accelerant that burns hot enough to melt steel.
I also grab the gun tucked into a hidden compartment—a matte black Glock with a custom grip and a silencer already attached. The weight is comforting against my lower back as I tuck it into my waistband.
Checking my watch, I calculate how long Raven has been missing. Forty-five minutes. And no matter what that useless rational part of my mind says, I know she’s missing. She. Did. Not. Leave. Me.
I close the trunk with a decisive thud, ready to smoke the snake from its hole. My phone buzzes with an incoming text—one of my men has already found an address for a North Coast Effects storage facility.
Perfect. That’s where I’ll light the first match, the first beacon in what will become a constellation of fire across Cleveland.
As I slide into the driver’s seat, I press my palm against my chest, feeling the steady thrum of my heartbeat beneath my skin.
“I’m coming for you, Little Thief,” I promise to the empty car, to the gathering darkness, to the woman who’s become as necessary to me as oxygen.
Chapter 38
Raven
Even before I open my eyes, I know something’s wrong—the air tastes stale and damp, laced with mildew and something metallic that might be blood. My blood?
