Chapter One
Marco
Iwas left for dead.
Shot in the hand, leg, and arm by a hitman I had hired who then betrayed me. You can’t trust anybody in this world.
I thought that was it for me. I was bleeding out on the floor of a church until the priest saved my life. Brought to a hospital. Spent months recovering from my wounds.
And now I’m back.
Enzo Bianchi thought he could team up with the Russian mafia and face no consequences but as an Italian mafia man, I cannot stand for that. He put our organization to shame.
I need to rectify it. I need to gain enough power to take Enzo down. I tried taking his sister from him but she slipped through my fingers and married the hitman who betrayed me.
That only leaves me with one choice: I need a different strategy to gain power. I need an alliance with someone I never thought I would be in.
The Irish mob.
They’re no better than the Russians but Enzo has control over the Italian mafia. I can’t get a way in. I have some old contacts but they all left me when they thought I had died. That’s one good thing: no one knows I’m still alive.
I’m willing to do whatever it takes to bring Enzo down. To bring Will Taylor down. Will, the man who took Gianna Bianchi away from me. I didn’t love Gianna but I was intent on making her mine and he denied me that.
I won’t rest until both men are dead. I need power and I can’t get it with the Italian mafia and since the Russians are working with Enzo, that only leaves the Irish.
I try not to sneer when I set foot into the pub. It stinks like old, cheap beer in here. Folk music is playing in the background. Men sit in booths, rowdily drinking their beer and watching a soccer game.
When I reached out to Patrick Sullivan about a deal, he told me to come here. I am having to debase myself to get what I want but if it means Enzo and Will are dead, then so be it.
My eyes find Patrick in the back booth, sitting alone. Two guards flank his sides, standing beside the booth. They look me over warily as I approach. One of them pats me down and then nods at me to sit.
Patrick gives me a large smile when I sit down. It makes the lines around his eyes crinkle. “Marco, how nice to finally meet you in person.”
“Patrick.”
“You said you wanted to make a deal with me. Or so I was told. Making a deal with the Italian mafia. I have to say, I like the sound of that.”
“I’ll be frank with you, Patrick. I need power.”
His eyes flick down to my hand. “I see you have some war wounds.”
I don’t remove my hand from the table. Let him look at my disformed hand. The bullet Will shot me with went right through my hand, leaving an ugly scar behind. It took me a long time to regain mobility in my hand and it will never be at full capacity again. I’ve had to relearn to use my gun with my other hand. My leg and arm get stiff when it rains but they healed much faster. Not as much damage.
“I want Enzo Bianchi and Will Taylor dead.”
Patrick lets out a low whistle. “Enzo is head of the Italian mafia and Will is his right hand man.”
“Because he married Enzo’s sister, Gianna.”
“I detect some venom in your voice.”
“It’s nothing,” I lie. “I want them dead.”
“So you’re coming to me, is that it? You want to make a deal, thinking I’ll help you kill them.”
“Yes.” This time, it’s honesty.
Patrick’s laugh is low in his voice. “You’re something else, Marco. A handsome man. Not too old yet. Money. You could have anything and yet, you’re intent on revenge. And you think I’ll provide that for you.”
