“I love you too.” I don’t give a flying fuck who hears. What we just survived has put a lot of things in perspective. I still can’t believe we have lost most of the dons and their heirs. It’s a clusterfuck of epic proportions, and the danger is far from over. I hold her tight while squeezing Elisa’s hand. “I’ll come to you as soon as we’re done, but it’ll most likely be very late.”
“I don’t care. I’ll be waiting.” She presses her mouth to my ear. “I want you to stay with me tonight.”
I hold her tighter as I nod before reluctantly letting her go. Right now, I would love to lose myself in my woman, but duty calls.
Serena herds the kids toward the playroom while keeping a firm arm around her younger sister’s shoulders. Nat has retreated to her rooms with Caleb and Joshua already, so Leo and I trail Ben to his study. The boss has already dispatched Nario and Ciro to the gatehouse to talk to thesoldation the grounds, letting them know what has happened and they are to be on high alert.
“Fuck!” Ben thrusts his fist into the wall after we enter his study, breaking through the drywall and leaving a fist-shaped hole. His breathing is heavy as he rests his hands on the wall and bows his head. Leo and I exchange troubled looks. It’s unusual to see Ben rattled but completely understandable under the circumstances.
Leo strides to the liquor cabinet and pours drinks. Scotch for the two of us and a bourbon for Ben. The boss straightens up, striding behind his desk and dropping into his chair. I take one of the seats in front of him, nodding at Leo when he hands me my drink. “I still can’t wrap my head around this,” I admit, swirling the amber-colored liquid in my glass.
“That makes two of us.” Ben knocks back his drink and slams the glass down on the desk.
“I can’t believe that fucker DeLuca managed to do this,” Leo says, refilling Ben’s glass.
“He played me for a fool.” Ben seethes as he stares into his drink with a murderous look on his face.
“It’s not all on you. Accardi and Barretta were on the ground, and neither of them knew,” Leo says.
“Because they were too fucking preoccupied with their personal shit,” Ben hisses.
“We should call Barretta,” I say. Last we heard, he was in Sicily, preparing to spend his final days in the homeland. “Find out if he knew anything. He’s the closest to the men too. At least some of them must have misgivings about all this.”
Ben is already reaching for his phone. “We need to do a roll call.” He eyeballs Leo as he punches in numbers on his cell. “Pull up our most recent list and start calling around. We need to identify exactly who was in that building when it blew and pinpoint next of kin. We need an updated list of dons so we can start implementing succession planning.” His gaze flits to mine as he lifts his cell to his ear. “Split the list between you, and let’s try to get a handle on the current situation.”
Leo and I sit for hours making calls while Ben talks to the other New York dons and appoints successors to Accardi and Greco on The Commission.
“I don’t care,” Ben snaps into the phone as I end my last call. “We paid you extremely well to ensure you looked after your contact inside The Outfit. Now, I want intel. Not fucking excuses. Do your job or I’ll fly to Chicago and put a fucking bullet in your skull myself.” He slams his phone down and rubs his taut jaw.
“Problems with Donny?” I inquire. Donny is a PI we were using to follow Gino in Chicago the past few months. He has asoldatowithin The Outfit in his pocket, and we need that guy now more than ever.
“He’s freaking out. The bombing is splashed over all the news channels and the airwaves. Feds and other law enforcement are crawling all over the place. Like I give a fucking shit.” Ben claws his hands through his hair, pushing air out of his lungs. “I need to know what the grass roots support is like for DeLuca, and I need intel on who this guy is and how the fuck he hid from us.”
“Did Cinisi have any idea who he might be?” Leo asks after he ends his call. Ben has been forging a working arrangement with the Sicilian boss this past year, and that could pay dividends now.
Ben shakes his head. “He is as clueless as we are and frothing at the mouth because the two guys he had guarding Barretta are missing as well.”
We haven’t been able to locate Thomas Barretta or his bodyguards, which doesn’t bode well. If DeLuca got to him, it means he played Cinisi for a fool too, and no don likes to be outsmarted. Especially in their own territory. I bet Cinisi is spitting blood, and this could work to our advantage. “Will he help?” I ask.
Our numbers are depleted, and that makes us vulnerable. Not only to DeLuca—who is now seemingly in charge in Chicago—but also to our enemies. We don’t know if the Russians are in cahoots with them or not, but they have been sniffing around The Outfit long enough for it to be a valid concern. If theyareworking together, it will only be in the short-term though. I doubt the Sicilians are planning any permanent alliance with the Bratva because Italians and Russians do not make ideal bed partners. The Sicilians will betray them when they cease to serve a purpose.
“He’s going to send his most experienced capo and as many men as they can spare,” Ben explains. “Understandably, he doesn’t want to leave his territory exposed in case DeLuca has set his sights on reclaiming his homeland. But he assured me he’d send as many skilled men as he could.”
A knock on the door claims our attention. Ciro walks in with Phillip behind him. Ben immediately sequesters his IT expert, shepherding him over to the table in the far corner of the room. Leo and I resume making calls to the otherfamigliain the US while Ben updates Phillip.
We check in and verify successor details, and these aren’t easy calls to make. Grief is rampant, and fear is palpable. But we advise everyone to gather their men for an update and to double and triple security on their assets. Everyone is exposed now, and local enemies won’t waste an opportunity to gain the upper hand. We must all be hypervigilant until Ben and The Commission come up with a structured plan to help move us forward and protect what we have built.
“How many more calls do you have left?” Ben asks, glancing over my shoulder as I add some new details to the spreadsheet on my tablet.
I scan down my half of the list. “Eight more,” I say.
“Seven for me,” Leo confirms.
“Okay, good. I have arranged a meeting with the other Commission leaders. We’ll leave for the city in an hour.”
“How is Don DiPietro?” Leo inquires. He got shot outside the warehouse. Natalia attended to his injury on the way back, confirming the bullet had narrowly missed an artery. The man still lost a lot of blood though.
“He’ll be fine,” Ben says. “He’s more concerned with retaliation and itching to deliver payback.”
