Twenty-five minutes later, I’m on a darker, dingier side of Malus that I’ve never been before. There are run-down factories, abandoned houses, and warehouses with empty lots. Just the kind of unassuming place you might want to store stolen goods. I drive slowly with my lights off, so I’m not noticed, and as soon as I see my brother’s car parked up ahead, I pull over and cut the engine.
Damiano is standing by the road, speaking to two tough-looking men. They’re ten or even twenty years older than Damiano, but they all seem to know each other, and they take instructions from my brother and answer his questions. I wish I knew what they were talking about.
I get out of my car and slip through the shadows toward them. Once I’ve heard enough of their conversation and what theproblem is, I’ll step forward and tell my brother I’m here to help. I belong by his side.
Him and me, that’s what he promised me all those years ago.
The three men turn and head toward the warehouse. All is silent apart from the sound of my own breathing as I enter the lot and skirt the shadows by the fence. I’m keeping so close an eye on my brother that I trip on a piece of broken concrete and send it skittering across the ground.
The two strangers keep walking, but Damiano draws his gun and turns around. I duck down behind some discarded pallets, and peer through a gap at my brother. He slowly scans the empty lot, and he spies the pallets. His eyes narrow as he walks toward me.
I suck in a breath, feeling like a trapped rabbit. Damiano’s armed and primed for danger. If I make one wrong move, I’m going to get a bullet.
8
Damiano
Dad’s orders are ringing in my ears as I approach the warehouse with Aldo and Giuseppe.Protect Barone assets at all costs. Now is not the time for people to think they can take what belongs to us.
He doesn’t need to tell me twice. No one’s going to take what’s mine.
Power in Malus is shifting. Don Agnello Montoni was a powerful Barone ally, but now he’s dead. Cristiano Montoni is the new Montoni don, and he hasn’t made his loyalties clear. To old families, like ours? To his sister’s husband’s family, the Vicis? Vincenzo Vici places no trust in allies of the man who slaughtered his family, and that could include us if we get too friendly with Don Cristiano. Meanwhile, the Sokolis are circling us like sharks.
The night is still and silent, until I hear the sound of a rock tumbling across the lot behind me. Aldo and Giuseppe keepwalking toward the warehouse, but I turn around and take my gun out, hunting the darkness for any sign of movement.
I know someone has been here because the silent alarms were set off. Surely they can’t still be here.
Behind me, Dad’s soldiers open the heavy warehouse door, turn the lights on, and go inside. Yellow light floods the shadows and illuminates the lot. I keep moving forward, away from the warehouse and toward a stack of pallets to one side of the lot, partly overgrown by weeds.
A telltale shadow is cast across the ground. There’s someone hiding behind those pallets. Fucking hell. Whoever broke in is still here, and I point my gun at them.
From inside the warehouse, I hear, “Aldo, is that a trip w—”
The night is ripped apart.
There’s a deafening explosion, and heat scorches the nape of my neck. I’m flung forward, and I lose my grip on my gun.
Firelight is raging all around me. It’s my goddamn nightmare.
As the fire roars and my head swims, I watch Lucy running into that meth house as it explodes in flames and shattered glass, over and over.
I push myself up onto my elbows and try to get my feet under me. Then there are hands on me, pulling me to my feet. Rough, violent hands.
“The Barone prince himself. Can you believe it, boys? We nearly turned the don’s son into cat food.”
There are nasty snickers all around me. The hands seizing me are decorated with spider tattoos.
Sokolis.
My already racing heart doubles its speed. I have no weapon, and my soldiers are dead. When Dad doesn’t hear from us, he’ll know something’s happened, but it will be too late by then.If the Sokolis are emboldened to set deadly mantraps in our warehouses, I’m screwed.
Someone drives a van into the lot, and they drag me over to it and open the back. The dark, bare, dirty interior yawns like a tomb.
They sit me on the edge of the van with a gun to my head while they argue about my fate. Torture me, kill me, or ransom me? They look like demons with flames at their backs and the smoke belching into the night sky. Their shrill laughter and the screams of dying meth addicts echo in my ears. The stench of burning flesh reaches my nose, and my stomach rolls.
One of the men turns to me and gives me a shove. “Who’s Daddy dear allying with? The Montonis? The Vicis? Or is he going it alone?”
I finally recognize the man looming over me. He has a slight lisp, because once I shoved a fork through his tongue for upsetting Lucy. When I don’t answer, he punches me in the face. I blink and shake my head to clear my vision.
