Chapter 6
Michael
Raiding the dock in Bayonne where Victor’sshipmenthad been scheduled had been the easy part. Years ago, I’d recruited a fed in Victor’s close-knit crew, and Leo had been instrumental in helping me close in on the bastard.
What had been harder, much to my surprise, was killing the bastard.
As I stood in front of him in the dark warehouse, his limp frame sputtering from the punches my cousin and second-in-command, Nick, had given him, I inhaled a deep breath to finally savor the moment. Gliding my gun under Victor’s chin, I lifted his head, forcing him to meet my eyes.
“So, here we stand, after all this time,” I said softly, not wanting the men who stood several feet away to hear, although I definitely wanted them tosee. Killing Victor would cement me as the one true leader of the East Coast families, and it was imperative I pull the trigger myself.
In the end, I didn’t like killing. I found it beneath me and my men, and strove to ensure that each killing was just. If a just reason couldn’t be found, I would instead order something that sent a firm message but spared life.
That had happened several times over the years, and stories ran rampant about me throughout the families. When I’d caught my accountant stealing from me, instead of killing him, I’d broken both his kneecaps. Technically, Nick had broken both his kneecaps, but I’d been there, observing it all with my cold glare.
Eventually, once Lawrence’s kneecaps had healed, he wasreassignedas the accountant to a local church diocese in Brooklyn. They paid him a meager salary, but he was alive, and would remain that way unless I discovered any treachery. I highly doubted I would.
I’d even let the two goons who betrayed me to Victor years ago live. Both had lost their dominant hand to the swift cut from a machete as a visible reminder that they would never hold a gun again. But I also allowed them to move to New Mexico with their families considering their children shouldn’t have to suffer for their disloyalty. They were monitored by my contacts out west, and they knew that any further betrayal would not only mean harm for them, but for their families.
But now, standing in front of Victor, I knew that only one man could do this job. Nick was by my side, as he had been for several years, but I must deliver the final blow.
“All these years, I owned what you never could,” Victor rasped, blood trickling from his mouth. “She’ll always belong to me.”
I noticed Nick’s eyebrows draw together at the cryptic conversation. I’d never divulged my true feelings to anyone. Not even Nick, my closest confidant, knew how deeply Bianca infiltrated my soul.
“You never deserved her,” I gritted, kicking him in the shin, reveling in his groan of pain. “And now, I can finally do what I should’ve done years ago.” Pressing the barrel of the gun to his forehead, I stared into his fear-laden eyes. “I’ll give her the life you never could, you piece of shit. Rot in hell and tell Satan I said hi.”
Steeling myself, I pulled the trigger. Victor emitted one last gasp before slumping in the chair.
“Leave the body for Leo and the feds,” I said to Nick, sheathing my gun and backing away. “I don’t want to deny Alexisthe chance to bury her father. If not for her, I’d burn the bastard to ash.”
“Understood,” Nick said with a nod. “You need to go. The feds will be here any minute. Leo’s held them back from entering this unit as long as he can.”
I spared one last look at the man who’d caused me so much heartache, unashamed to admit I reveled in the sight of his limp, powerless body...
And then, I strode back to my waiting SUV and rode home in silence, confident that Leo would write in the report that I wasn’t on site. But the men who’d observed in the distance knew differently, and soon everyone in the East Coast families would know I killed Victor, which wasexactlywhat I wanted.
Sadly, for my beautiful Bianca, it had just taken me too damn long to accomplish the deed.
Chapter 7
Bianca
Victor’s funeral was held on a brisk October day. I was thankful for the stinging breeze since it made my eyes water and made the tears that much easier to fake. They rolled down my cheeks as onlookers sent me sympathetic glances, and I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Alexis’s emotion was more genuine, and I did my best to comfort her as we watched her father’s casket being lowered into the ground. Once the service was over, we turned to walk across the short grass and head home.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a lone figure standing underneath a tree, a stray whisp of his thick hair blowing in the breeze. His dark eyes were trained on me, following me as I approached the row of cars, and I whispered his name without even realizing it.
“You okay, Mom?” Alexis asked beside me. “Did you say ‘Michael?’”
“I’m fine,” I said, forcing a smile as my eyes darted back to him. His hands rested in the pockets of his long black coat, and I noticed the hair above his ears had turned gray. It should’ve made him look old. Instead, it just made him more handsome...moredistinguished.
“Bastard,” I murmured.
“Seriously, Mom,” Alexis said, turning to face me at the open car door. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. Get in so we can get out of the cold.”
