Behind us, our car is an inferno, temporarily trapping the Russians behind a wall of heat.
There is no time to waste.
I check my wife, but she’s not seriously hurt. She speaks, but I can’t hear the words. The sentiment blazing from her eyes is clear though, and I spring into action. My ears are ringing, and my arm throbs as I climb to my feet on unsteady limbs. Holding the rocket launcher out in front of me, I line it up so it’s perfectly positioned to take those Bratva bastards out the second the flames clear, giving me a clear view of them.
It happens a couple of minutes later, and my arm is steady, my resolve undeniable, as I take my shot, and it hits the target. The Russian SUV erupts in another fireball that rocks the New York skyline, lighting it up in hues of orange and red as darkness slowly creeps in.
I set the rocket launcher down and walk toward my wife when a car screeches behind us. Whipping out my Glock, I shove Catarina away as I spin around, ready for whomever has come for us now. But it’s Renzo who pops his head out of the black van, yelling something we can’t hear. Fiero grabs Ricardo, and they run toward us with blackened faces and torn clothing. Snatching my wife’s hand, I steer her toward the van while sending a silent question to Fiero from over my shoulder. He shakes his head, and a pained sigh escapes me.
Rina glances back with tears in her eyes, and I know Ezio’s loss will haunt her for years to come. Losing loved ones in such circumstances always does.
We scramble into the car, and it careens up the road at high speed as the sound of sirens echoes in the background.
It takes some time for the ringing in our ears to fade enough that we can speak. Until then, we communicate via text. My wife doesn’t want to meet at our house now. She’s afraid of drawing the enemy to our home. I don’t disagree, so I send everyone coordinates to a warehouse by the docks that has been in my family for years. We can reconvene there and make plans.
Fiero and I summon our men, and I send a message to Don Mazzone with a brief explanation, promising to call him when I can hear properly to update him more fully. Rina taps away on her phone, sending instructions to her team, and within the hour, we are at the warehouse and making plans.
My head is pounding, and I’m grateful when Rina’s doc shows up, handing me some pain meds. He attends to our injuries and gives us a quick inspection. We all have cuts and grazes, slight pain in our ears, and matching headaches, but it’s nothing serious. He advises us to come in next week to have our ears checked for any permanent damage. Once the good doc is gone, we get down to business.
“I suggest we split into three groups,” Rina says, instantly taking the lead. Fiero and I are happy to let her do it because she needs this. “We don’t know if Anton will send more men after us or if he’ll go for Saverio himself the instant he lands.” Using the coordinates Renzo has provided, I am tracking Salerno’s plane as it heads for New York. He’s about an hour and forty-five minutes out now. “The only person killing that bastard is me.” She slams her fist down on the table.
“Dario.” She jerks her head at herconsigliereas he enters the warehouse with a ton of her capos. “I need you to push the button on the file on Anton. We need him out of the US ASAP.”
“Consider it done,” he says, punching digits on his cell and stepping back to make a call.
“My men will wait at the private airfield for Salerno and attempt to capture him there,” she says.
“He’ll be expecting an ambush,” Fiero supplies.
“Most likely, but he’s reckless when he’s angry, and that’s when he makes mistakes. We try to take him there, but we also station a group of the Grecosoldation the road outside the airfield, so if he makes it that far, we ambush him there.” She eyeballs my best buddy. “Fiero, your men will guard us here. If Salerno makes it past the first two groups, we will leak our whereabouts to him and take them out when he arrives.”
“Divide and conquer,” I say, considering all the angles in my head. “It will work. We have the local knowledge and the numbers. I doubt he’ll make it past your men at the airfield.”
ChapterThirty-Seven
Massimo
My words are prophetic, and it’s pathetic how easy Salerno is captured at the airport when he lands.
“ETA in five minutes,” Rina says, putting her cell down. She’s been pacing the floor of the warehouse like a caged animal for the past two and a half hours, angry and on edge, while I have done my best to pacify Don Mazzone and The Commission.
We have to attend a meeting with them tomorrow to explain the shit show that went down. Thanks to Bennett’s police commissioner buddy, news of our involvement has been kept out of the media reports. I told Don Mazzone it was the Russians spearheaded by the Russian ambassador to New York who attacked us and we have intel which confirms they have been planning to move into our territory for some time. The Russians seizing Vegas and attacking my wife adds authenticity to my words, and Bennett swallowed it fully. It makes sense they would try to take out the woman in charge of the drug-supply chain on the streets for themafioso, in the hope they could step in and backfill the gap her presence would leave.
Nicolina hands my wife a bottle of water, fixing an errant strand of hair that has slipped out of her ponytail. Rina’s best friend showed up an hour ago—much to her husband’s disgust and clear fury—with clothes for all of us and supplies to freshen up. My wife’s torn, stained white dress has been replaced with her usual black battle attire. Her makeup is intact, and her hair neatly pulled back. The usual myriad of weapons is strapped to her body, and she has set the stage in preparation for her showdown with her stepfather.
I’m still reeling over that revelation and the realization I’m now linked by marriage to that fucker DiPietro.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask when she steps up to my side, discreetly threading her fingers in mine. I love how she naturally comes to me for support without even thinking about it. “I can take care of him, and you can avoid the blowback from Anais if she ever finds out,” I offer.
“I know you know what my answer will be.” She looks up at me with fierce determination etched upon her beautiful face.
“I had to try.”
“I appreciate you did.”
We share a silent communication, speaking with our eyes instead of our words. She tells me she needs to do this. I tell her I know and I am here to support her in whatever way I can.
“He’s here,” Renzo hollers from his lookout spot in the rafters. We have men all over the grounds, the warehouse, and the dock so there are no unpleasant surprises.
