Baz cues up the next video, and I force myself to watch this one just like the first. By the end of it, I know what must be done in order to help Victoria. She might ultimately hate me for it, but at least it will give me a chance to save her life.
CHAPTER 9
DAMON
TURNS OUT SETTING up a meeting with Giorgio Ciccone was easier than I thought it would be. The old man actuallywantsto meet with me to discuss Victoria and what the hell we’re gonna do about trying to get her back from Farrell.
Baz is riding shotgun on our way to Ciccone’s mansion, the same place where everything went down weeks ago. The very place where I ultimately made a choice and, in doing so, ultimately lost Victoria.
The guard at the shack out front lets me drive through the gate, which they fixed since my fast escape, with no problem.
“Are you sure we’re not driving right into an ambush?” Baz asks me, but there is no fear in his voice. If anything, he sounds amused by the idea.
“I’m planning on walking out of here alive,” I respond. “If Ciccone tries to pull anything, I won’t be afraid to draw first blood…again.”
“Good enough, my friend,” Baz comments as he takes in the mansion with a long, low whistle. “Damn, Ciccone is certainly living the high life up in his castle.”
“You’re just used to seeing things from an underground perspective.”
Baz gives me a nod in agreement. “Perhaps it’s time for me to come back to the surface,” he says wistfully, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s serious. Baz has been underground for so long I didn’t ever think he’d want to live in my world again.
Parking the SUV in front of the house, both of us exit and are greeted by more guards. The fact that they don’t frisk us is shocking, to say the least, considering what happened last time I set foot in this place. Baz turns to me with a raised eyebrow, and I give him a subtle shrug in response. I feel like we’re getting ready to walk into something I’m not prepared for, and I don’t like that feeling. I always like to have control in every aspect of the word.
We’re led into the heart of the mansion — Ciccone’s office.
The moment we enter I know the reason we’ve been let into his secure home so easily.
Ciccone sits at his desk, hunched over. He’s pale and sickly white. He’s having a hard time breathing, allowing a portable machine to do most of the work.
He’s dying.
With his hand, Ciccone weakly motions for us to come in.
His right-hand man,Alessandro Mancini, sits in the corner of the room behind Ciccone and barely gives us a second glance as we enter. He’s tall and skinny in stature with graying brown hair and matching eyes. I remember him well from my childhood, as he was also there the night my father was murdered in cold blood right in front of my eyes.
Alessandro had been my father’s friend, or so I had thought. But he did nothing to stop the brutality that befell upon my family that terrible night.
As a child, I had mentally added him to the list of people I wanted wiped off the face of this earth. Ciccone has always been number one on my list, of course.
And yet the old fuck is still here. Still breathing. Stillliving.
“How are you still alive?” I ask Ciccone, and I don’t even try to hide my disgust.
He pulls the breathing mask from his face and gives me a vicious smile. “By the…grace…of god,” he gasps before violently coughing.
“You’re dying,” I offer, which offers me a nod of his head.
“It’s amazing the…amount of tests…they run at the hospital. They found…the lung cancer when they were…checking out the…from the gunshot wounds.” He wheezes in and out before adding, “Stage four.”
The man who has haunted my dreams since I was a child is dying. So why am I not happy? As I look down at the dying man, I know exactly why I’m not. It’s because he’s not paying for the crimes he committed against my family.Ishould have been the one to kill him, not cancer.
“Have you found out where they’re keeping Victoria yet?” I ask him, impatiently, getting straight to the reason behind this meeting.
Ciccone tries to speak, but instead begins to wheeze wildly. He replaces his oxygen mask and motions for Alessandro to do the talking.
“We haven’t found her yet, but we’ve been searching through Nolan Farrell’s property records, trying to locate her.”
Hearing the man speak brings back haunting memories. Memories I’d like to keep buried…six feet under next to his rotting fucking corpse.
