Bram updated Marcus.The interior monitors show one more at the front desk, and you’re clear until the fourth floor. I’m unlocking the rear entrance.
A quiet click followed, and Marcus pulled open the back door, remarking,Are they that light on staff? Not very security conscious, are they?
Bram chuckled in his mind.I think they’re relying more on intimidation and reputation than muscle at this time of night. This is a local headquarters after all. Once they established dominance, the average rival would avoid this area. That, or you’ve already killed too many of their employees.
Pity,Marcus mused as Titus held the door open for them both with a slight bow and they entered the building.
Costa enjoyedthe finer things in life. As the don of the family’s interest in this town, his status afforded him some perks. Seated behind his mahogany desk, Costa stared at Emilio, who trembled before him. Maintaining his glower, Costa hid his anger.
“This is it? A half-assed drawing of the common areas. I don’t need a map to find where to take a leak. Where are the exits? The employee-only areas access points? What weaknesses did you observe? How many staff members are there? Who’s in charge?”
“Sorry, boss. They had the place locked down. Anyone who stepped out of line at all disappeared. I had to keep a low profile and blend in.”
“Blend in or fail completely?”
“Spooky shit was going on there, boss. When someone was removed, they didn’t herd them outside. Security erased them. I thought the encounter was strange when the first guy didn’t fight or throw a fit. I watched the next one closely. The guys in Nightfall shirts surrounded a super drunk girl who berated a bartender. In seconds, her loud shouts cut off instantly, and the spot where she had stood was empty.” Emilio shivered at that memory.
“What’s her name?” Costa asked quietly. This didn’t make sense. Emilio was covering something up. Costa hadn’t liked that only one of the five guys he sent had gotten inside.
“The drunk girl? I don’t remember if she told me.”
“No, the one you spent the evening with.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, boss.”
“You smell like sweat and perfume. And there’s a smear of lipstick on your shirt.” Costa brushed his hand over his chest, indicating a spot. Emilio glanced down with a look of horror. Costa had him.
“I had to blend in, boss. They have cameras everywhere. I could feel them keeping an eye on me. So I danced a couple of tunes to make them believe I was there to party. I had to blend in so security didn’t kick me out. I needed to stick around to check things out.”
Slowly swirling his drink, Costa maintained his normal confidence and vicious sneer. Wishing to protect his power before his men, he gave Emilio a chance to imagine what would happen to him for lying directly to him and failing at his mission. Costa inhaled, savoring the hint of desperation and fear that suddenly scented the room. He enjoyed the powerful knowledge that he’d created those emotions. Emilio might have seen “spooky shit” there, but Emilio remained under Costa’s thumb.
Costa eased up a bit. Emilio would pay for wasting his time inside. Costa suspected no one he sent in the future would be allowed to enter the club. “What did you see? Rampant drug use, kinky stuff, cultish behavior?”
Emilio grabbed the chance to share information. “None of that. Everything seemed normal. People were having such a great time. Nightfall is a hit. Something is off. The staff operates as if it’s one entity. Like they’re connected.” The man before him shuddered as he focused on the thick immaculate carpet under his feet. “I’m sorry, boss. I can’t describe it better. People don’t move like that.”
Before he could say anything further, two thumps sounded outside the closed door of Costa’s office as if something had fallen. The color drained from Emilio’s cheeks as he lifted his head and turned to stare at the wooden barrier behind him.
Pissed at being interrupted, Costa stood up out of his chair and slammed his drink down on the desk before him. Amber liquid splashed onto the heavily polished surface of Costa’s huge walnut desk, fueling his anger at the waste of fine cognac. “What are you idiots doing out there?”
Silently, the door swung open. Two enormous men he didn’t recognize strode into the room, dressed completely in black. When their eyes flashed red, Emilio whimpered and dropped to his knees.
Immediately, the bigger of the two men loomed over Emilio. Costa caught the glint of metal a split second before a sword appeared out of nowhere in the invader’s hand. The Mafia boss blinked as the razor-sharp point jabbed through Emilio’s chest. The weapon sliced through Emilio’s torso before his scream pierced the silence.
Suddenly, the other man appeared behind Costa, grabbing him by the shoulders and shoving him back into his chair. Costa’s heart raced, but he funneled his fright into anger. This was his territory. Didn’t they know who he was?
His attacker grabbed Costa’s head, forcing him to watch as the first invader reached into Emilio’s widely spread mouth and ripped out his tongue, garbling the last few notes of his howl.
The splatter of blood and the removed organ demanded Costa’s attention when it thudded onto his desk. Costa forced himself to pull his attention from the bloody mass before him as he struggled to contain the visceral terror welling up inside him. To his horror, the man reached into the gaping wound in Emilio’s chest to tear out his heart and add it to the gruesome display on the dark wood in front of him
Shocked by what he’d witnessed, Costa stared at the scene before him as the man casually wiped his sword on Emilio’s jacket and shoved the body out of the way. Emilio’s remainstumbled to the floor, still twitching. Costa swallowed hard as the intruder’s ice-cold, green gaze targeted on him.
Costa stiffened his spine, trying to appear unfazed by the violence and his own vulnerability, even though the other man held him in place. He guessed all his guards had perished as well. “That’s rather a lot, isn’t it?”
“This is your final warning. Touching a hair on the heads of our people or employees will result in mass annihilation of your forces, your family lineage, and yourself. You particularly will suffer.”
Before he could prevent himself, Costa’s gaze lowered to the new additions to his desk blotter. Suffer more than that?
“I don’t think you understand who you’re talking to or what you’ve started,” Costa blustered.
