“He’s still in school.” I drill him with a look.
“Rizzo’s child is only ten,” he says, slipping up without realizing it. “I thought we were better than this. We shouldn’t be sinking to their levels.”
“He hasn’t been harmed, and we needed something to force them to come here tonight.”
It didn’t sit right with any of us to kidnap Rizzo’s boy, but he’s the sole remaining Barone heir, and we knew they would show up to reclaim him. We couldn’t think of any other way to draw them out that would ensure they didn’t open fire immediately. The boy was well looked after by one of themafiosowives. He dined on McDonald’s and Chick-fil-A and spent his days watching Marvel movies and playing Xbox with oursoldati.No one has harmed a hair on his head.
I walk over to Ben and Cristian and their crew while the bulk of our men hang back on the road per the instructions relayed on the journey here. Ben is bending down, whispering in Lorenzo Rizzo’s ear. Leo shares a look with me as Marino glances over his shoulder, no doubt mouthing words to his men. I nod at my stepdad.
“Let’s do this,” Cristian says as Calabro steps forward with his underboss andconsigliere. Armed men trail them a few steps behind.
I jerk my head at the crew gathered directly behind me, gesturing them forward with a jerk of my head.
“I need a weapon,” Marino hisses in my ear as we advance toward the welcoming party.
I slam a handgun in his palm and level him with a warning look.
We stop in the middle of the field, facing off with our enemy.
“Lorenzo. You good?” Calabro asks, eyeballing the little boy.
“I had the best time, Uncle. I got to?—”
“Zip it,” Calabro snaps. “Hand him over, Mazzone.”
Ben glares at Calabro. “Not until you hand over the men responsible for the attempted assassination on my son. That was the deal.”
Calabro smirks, lifting a hand and snapping his fingers. Two men are pushed forward from the back and shoved to their knees in the middle of both groups.
“Check them for weapons,” Ben instructs, and a few of the Mazzonesoldatimove forward.
The man standing to Ben’s side, with his arm in a sling, subtly shakes his head, confirming what we already knew would happen. These goons are not the men who fired at Rowan and killed one of his bodyguards. I’m sure Ben is itching to rip into Calabro for attempting to trick us, but we need to play this scene to the bitter end. We’ll get the pricks who targeted his son one way or the other.
Weapons are raised as both sides point guns at each other. You could cut the tension with a knife. I have one eye on the prick at my side and one on the confrontation in front of me.
“They’re clean, Don Mazzone.”
“Bring them here,” Ben says through gritted teeth.
Calabro steps forward and lifts a hand. “Bring the boy to me first.”
“That’s not how negotiations go, and we’re not stupid,” Ben says. “You release the men to us, and we’ll give you the boy.”
“We’re not stupid either,” Calabro says. “We know you’ll kill him once you get what you want.”
“You know jack shit,” Cristian says. “Unlike you, we don’t kill kids.”
Calabro points his gun at Cristian’s face. “Then give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just kill you all now.”
“Because Lorenzo will get hit in the ensuing gunfire, and we know you don’t want your only surviving heir to die, or you wouldn’t be here,” I calmly say. I don’t mention the fact they appear totally outnumbered because I’m sure that isn’t the case. I don’t know where their backup resources are hiding—which is a problem in itself—but I’m sure they’re out there someplace.
“Don’t be an ass,” Cristian says. “Hand us the men. We’ll give you the boy, and we can all go home,” he lies.
Calabro sends a fleeting look to the man on my left, and I feel Marino bristling beside me. We all pretend not to notice. My fingers curl around my gun as I quietly unlock the safety.
“Take them,” Calabro snaps, and our men drag the men over to our side.
The two poor scapegoats stare at us with fear in their eyes, knowing what’s coming next. Although they are innocent, they need to die to set things in motion.
