“How many?” I asked, climbing out my Lambo.
“Three dead, two injured.” It was a pity I’d lost men, but every soldier knew what they were in for once initiated. There was no turning back.
“The D’Angelo’s?”
Remo cocked brow. “Do you even have to ask?”
That meant none of their men had walked away alive. Served them right. Step into my territory and the chances I’d let you live, were slim to none. And even if I did, Remo wasn’t as lenient, he’d take the fuckers down, just for fun. He’d only ever held back, once. I didn’t have to ask, he just knew he couldn’t.
“Did we get him?”
My brother’s smile was slow, the evil intent indecipherable to people who didn’t know him. I did. Smiling, I followed him into the waiting Escalade. “The final nail is about to go down, inch by fucking inch, brother,” Remo grinned, and I almost expected him to rub his hands together in glee.
Since Bianca’s death, and even though she’d given me the name I’d waited an eternity for, getting to Luca D’Angelo had proved harder than fuck. Then I’d started an all-out war. My terms were simple if they wanted peace. Give me Luca and I’d let them live. They chose death. Unfortunately, it had spread into Italy, and it was only a matter of time before my uncle would be visiting with one of his peace treaties.
I pocketed my phone I’d been staring at for the last minute and looked up. “Where is he?”
“Where do you think?”
I frowned. “The warehouse?”
His chuckle was low. “They wouldn’t even dream of looking in the place they just attacked, killed our men and lost theirs.”
I had to hand it to my brother, he’d make a fine leader one day. Provided he survived to see that fucking day. Yes, he’d become more careless, but he’d always done right by the Rossi name. Smiling, I glanced out the window. Under the cover of the night, all forms of horrors came out to play. Admittedly, two of the worst in New York sat in this car.
“I think it’s time you took a wife, gave me nephew or niece to entertain.”
My head snapped to my brother, my shock palpable in my sharp intake of breath and Remo threw his head back with a belly laugh. “Jesus, Renz, your expression is priceless.”
“You’re fucking insane,” I scoffed. “We’re about to kill a man and you’re talking about me marrying. Where the fuck is this coming from?” I lifted a brow. “Are you getting soft on me?”
“Never,” he snorted between laughs. “You’ve been distracted lately.”
“And the best solution you can come up with, is I should marry and make babies?” I shook my head and glanced out the window again.
“You want to talk about it?” I detected the hesitation in his words. That was something new for him.
“Talk about what?”
“What or should I say who has you looking so miserable these days. Did you meet someone new and she’s not into who you are?”
I was good at hiding my emotions and wondered what made him think I was miserable. Probably the late nights spent in my study starring into the darkness outside my window with a drink in my hand. Sleepless nights had become part of my lifestyle. Lately though, it had gotten worse, and I constantly felt like something was missing. Maybe Remo was right. I needed someone in my life. Choices were endless when it came to a quick or hard fuck. Long-term permanency, however, was a little more difficult to fulfil, viable options were severely lacking.
“I haven’t met anyone new.”
“Someone old then?” he pushed.
The vehicle slowing, saved me from answering and he gave me a ‘I’m not done with this’ look before he climbed out. I followed, taking in the battalion of armed soldiers patrolling the grounds. Remo wasn’t taking any chances.
Dario greeted us at the entrance and when we stepped inside, I glanced around the workspace that resembled one of those ‘too much gore and not enough story’ horror flicks. The air, thick with the coppery tang of blood, puke and piss was further desecrated by blood splattered walls and dismembered bodies piled in one corner.
I looked at my brother. “Your handiwork?”
His grin would give Dr Hyde a run for his money. “I like art.” He shrugged.
“This way.” Dario pointed to the corridor that led to a stairwell. We descended to the basement, four floors down. More men flanked the long passage that extended from the stairs. Unlike the brightly lit space upstairs, down here, the only light came from yellow bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling.
We had several warehouses and distributions centers scattered throughout the city, but I hadn’t been to this one yet. Remo managed it solely and judging by the paint chipped walls and unpolished cement floors, housekeeping was the least of his interests. There were no doors or windows in sight, and I wondered about ventilation for the workers, making a mental note to question my brother later.
