He wasted no time, racing toward the set of entrance doors. As he rushed out into the cool air, in the distance he noticed a dark SUV speeding away, the polished rims illuminated by the full moon. He shoved his hands in his pockets, shaking his head.
The fabulously secretive and cunning American agent had no idea what kind of challenge she’d placed on the table. Wrath never lost, either in business or in pleasure and he certainly wasn’t about to start now.
“I’m coming for you, sweet Ashley. When I do, your life will truly begin.”
“You finally wanted to see me, Father?” Wrath strolled into his father’s expansive office, curtailing the heightened level of emotions that continued to ride him. He’d been unable to squelch them since leaving Monte Carlo. His arrival back on the estate had certainly been met with excitement from the staff as well as his baby sister, but in the two days since his return, his father had opted to keep to himself.
No doubt out of utter disappointment for his son’s lack of care in performing his required job.
The estate had several hundred acres, allowing all three of Benedetto’s sons to live within the gates but on their own terms. He had one older and one younger brother, but they’d received the same barrage of training beginning at the age of five, their duties equally as important within the community. Both Angelo and Gabriel were competent assassins in their own right, their skills perfected by several years of required missions. No other family within the consortium had racked up the number of clean assassinations as the Constantino family had.
Until now.
The concept of shame enshrouding the family was something that his father would be unable to cope with. Benedetto was a proud man. A wealthy man.
And the kind of monster that nightmares were made of.
The very reason Wrath had left him alone upon his return. He’d spent his time honing his skills at weaponry in several manners,also trying not to allow sinful thoughts regarding Ashley to enter into his mind.
He stood several feet away from Benedetto’s desk, trying to hold his tongue. While he’d been born into what the Italians considered true royalty, he’d never fully understood the ramifications of fucking up.
The word on the street was that the Constantino family had lost their edge as well as the consortium’s favor. He’d never appreciated the value of the arrangement, perhaps because his father had always handled the business side of things. But as heir apparent, it was vital that Wrath take the lead. One day, his son would take the helm, leading the Constantino family into another era, but the goal would always be the same.
Altering the entire world’s corporate and military structure to suit the consortium, thereby growing their wealth.
And no one country was the wiser, the consortium only spoken of in their limited circle. As far as members of various law enforcement were concerned, there were several hired guns taking out world leaders in a random fashion.
Granted, the concept didn’t sit well with his brothers, but as with everything else within their family, Benedetto ruled with an iron fist. No one challenged him.
“Do you know what the Italian people say about the Constantino family?” Benedetto asked. He remained in front of his floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the pool.
Wrath followed his father’s gaze, watching the way his much younger sister frolicked in the water, her nanny by her side. His father’s second wife, barely older than Wrath himself, hadn’twanted a child in the first place, almost always leaving her with a nanny. “Why don’t you tell me, Father?”
“That we are direct descendants from the gods themselves.” Benedetto shot him a sideways look, a slight hint of amusement in his voice.
He’d heard the campfire style stories, mostly when he was a child, other parents refusing to allow him and his brothers to join in. There was no reason for their people to be afraid of them other than the legend that had been around before his great-grandfather. However, they had certainly used the centuries-old fear to their advantage as necessary. “The old ways, Father.”
“Yes, ones you do not enjoy partaking in.” Benedetto finally turned, never blinking as he stared at his son. He took solid and very slow steps forward, keeping his hands behind his back. “Are you aware that you’ve disgraced this family?”
Exhaling, Wrath nodded as his father came even closer. “That was not my intent.”
Benedetto seemed to study him, glancing up and down.
The harsh backhand his father issued caught him by surprise, the heavy ring his old man always wore catching him just under the eye. Stumbling, he dropped to his knees, cupping his face and taking several deep breaths. In his entire life, his father had only struck him twice, although the man’s form of punishment was much worse in several ways.
“I will not tolerate incompetence from any of my children. Do you understand that, Ricardo? The consortium cannot tolerate it. Twice you failed us. Twice. And yes, I know you fixed your first mistake, but the second mark is still underground, protected by the goddamn Americans.” Benedetto shook fromhis rage, finally running one hand through his thinning hair. He adjusted the ring, hissing as he yanked a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping away the string of blood marring the solid gold. “If the consortium has to deal with this, you will be banished and there is nothing I can do about it. Nothing.”
Wrath struggled to rise to his feet, daring to look his father in the eyes. No other person in his life would he allow to touch him in that manner, but the respect he felt for his father was unequaled, even if he’d lost his love for the man. “I completely understand and I will hunt Mr. Wallace and when I find him, there will be no place the man can hide, no matter which country he’s in.” The oddity of seeing such utter disappointment in his father’s eyes was probably more traumatic than he wanted himself to believe. If forced to banish one of their own from the consortium, which had occurred only once, Wrath would have a target on his back.
There would be no solace.
There would be no money.
There would be nowhere that Wrath could hide.
Another would be sent to exterminate him, likely one of his brothers.
His father tipped his head, studying Wrath once again as if determining whether his own child was capable of lying. “Very well. Gabriel will handle things until you accomplish your goals.”
