Chapter 43
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LORENZO (40YRS)
An hour after Rayden walked away, I still hadn’t move. I’d heard the chopper leave with Zena and return for Rayden, still I hadn’t moved. I should’ve done something to stop him, to make him understand that there was more to us than he would’ve ever know. I’d lied just to make him see me as the bad guy but watching him walk away, hurt even more. And as the whirr of the chopper starting up once more, filtered down from the rooftop, I knew that once the sound evaporated into silence, I’d never see Rayden again.
My heart urged me to move, to scale those stairs to the top and stop him. My hardcore brain refused—the brain that had carried me through shit and back. The brain that ruled over my heart in times of crises. The brain that told me I’d get through this. I was a Mafia king, I’d fought wars on the streets and won and I’d be damned if I let a boy break me. Yet, no amount of fierce bravado could hide one simple fact. Rayden Princeton was a battle I’d never win.
The abrupt buzz of my phone had me blinking before I answered, “yes.”
One my soldiers breathed heavily into phone as though he’d been running. “We’ve got company, boss.”
I tensed. “Who?”
“D’Angelo’s,” he yelled as gunfire erupted in the background.”
“Rayden!” Dropping the phone, I pulled out my gun and sprinted from the room, hoping he and the baby were already on the chopper, winging their way off the island. When I reached the rooftop, the chopper was nowhere in sight. Glad, he was gone, I raced down the hallways in search of my men.
I rounded a corner and caught sight of three of my men, taking cover behind a chest high wall. Crouching, I moved toward them and checked my gun. “How many?” I asked.
“I counted three on the upper terrace, two on the lower one. Could be more.”
I glanced over the wall, spotting the two men on the ground. The double-story structure resembled a small version of a castle with a terrace running the length and breadth of the building. It created a square around a courtyard that housed an atrium in the center. The D’Angelo men were on the opposite side to us.
“I’ll get the two at the bottom. Cover me.” Without giving my men time to respond, I vaulted the wall, opening fire as I bolted across the courtyard. Bullets rained down like a pissing storm, but I trusted my men and concentrated on my targets. I caught one with a bullet to the head and slammed chest first into the other.
He stumbled backward, hitting his head on the wall and dropped to the floor. Breathing hard, I shoved my muzzle into his mouth. “How many are you?” Shaking his head to clear the daze, he stared at me, and held up his hand showing me five fingers. I didn’t trust the fucker and glanced over my shoulder. One of my men gave me the thumbs up which meant they got the three on the upper floor while the other crossed the courtyard to my side. “Get the men to do a sweep, I have a feeling this asshole isn’t telling me the truth,” I said to him when he reached my side. Nodding, he shot off. “How did you get in?” I asked the D’Angelo man kneeling in front of me. Apart from the people that worked on the island, the property was known to three people. Remo, Dario, and I, which meant they’d gotten to one of the household staff. How?
“Chopper.”
I frowned. A slow ball of panic began at the base of my spine, inching its way up. “When? How?”
“We had a fishing boat keep tabs a couple of miles out. As soon as your chopper flew off, we had ours fly in. We assumed you’d left on yours,” he replied in rapid Italian.
Fuck. I didn’t want to ask the question sitting full frontal, but I had to. If they came in on the chopper where the fuck was Rayden. “Where’s my chopper?”
“We had the comms hacked. Your pilot was told to delay for an hour,” he replied, his words alternating between English and Italian.
The blood in my veins frosted over. Where the fuck was Rayden? I gestured to one of my men to take the D’Angelo fucker off my hand before I raced down the hallways, searching the rooms as I went. My mind a complete clusterfuck each time I came up empty. “Where the fuck are you, Rayden?” I cursed then dropped behind a wall as I spotted two more of D’Angelo’s men sneaking in from the beach. “Fuckers,” I hissed, taking aim. One fell to ground as my bullet connected with his groin. The other jumped behind a boulder.
One of my men came running from the opposite direction, followed by another burst of gunfire. “Jesus, how many of these fuckers did they send.” I dropped to the ground as he fell next to me.
“I had three on my tail,” he shouted above the roar.
“Did you see Rayden?”
“No, boss.”
“Fuck.” Adrenaline pumped hate into my body and giving no thought to my action, I shot to my feet opening fire as I did, hitting two men in the head. My man screamed as a bullet knocked him against the wall. The next few seconds happened so quickly, it took a moment to register. Gunfire exploded behind me. A bullet whizzed past my head. Someone shouted before something slammed into me, taking me down.
“Do you have a fucking death wish, old man?” Breathing hard, I looked up into Rayden’s scowling face, his body pressed tight to mine and a relieved laugh slipped past my lips. “Glad you find this funny,” he grunted.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, suddenly desperate to kiss him.
“Saving your ass, apparently.” He rolled off me and I immediately missed the feel of him. “C’mon.” He pointed toward one of the staircases that led down to the cellars.
