"I'm going to make sure everything is set." He stood and left my office.
Night fell, and we moved. I had decided to leave Emilia alone for the day; I didn't need any distractions, and my wife was the ultimate distraction. The house had been silent when I'd left, no sign of her anywhere.
The docks reeked of fish and salt water, with the sound of water gently lapping against the pier forming an eerie soundtrack. We hid in the shadows between shipping containers, the metal still warm from the day's sun. The hum of approaching vehicles grew closer. Headlights pierced the darkness, three black SUVs rolling in as if they owned the place. Car doors slammed loudly; evidently, the Ajellos didn't care if they woke the dead. Lifting my watch to my wrist, I waited for a little commotion to mask my words. "Once they reach the boat, be ready to move," I whispered.
Laughter and cigarette smoke drifted through the area. These guys were taking their sweet time getting to the vessel where the girls were being kept. Their conversations seeped into the darkness, crude jokes and boasting, as if they hadn't a care in the world.
Screams alerted us that they'd reached the people aboard the ship. Women's voices, high and terrified, cut through the night. Making a motion with my hand, my men fell into place, and we were on the move. I had my gun in one hand and a knife in the other.
Without warning, Antonio and I crept up behind the two lookouts and took them out without a sound. Knives were our weapon of choice. Silent, efficient, deadly. The men slumped to the ground, and we continued, dragging their bodies into the shadows.
The first shot rang out from our side, and took out who I thought was Rico Ajello. He was the second son of Fernando and a pain in the ass to everyone who knew him. His body jerked backward, a spray of blood visible in the moonlight. The world wouldn't lose much sleep over the loss.
Women's screams were louder than the sound of gunfire. The chaos erupted, muzzle flashes lighting up the dock like lightning. Advancing to the boat, we ushered some of the captives to waiting vehicles where they were given food and water. Their hollow eyes usually brightened when they saw the women in the trucks waiting to help them. Some were crying, some were catatonic, all were traumatized. It wasn't lost on me that I had an entire crew of women to help these victims, and I wouldn't let Emilia anywhere near this life.
In an instant, a burning sensation flared in my shoulder; I doubled over but kept running, targeting the men cowardly hiding behind women. Using human shields like the garbage they were. My aim was sure, and I only hit my target—one between the eyes, a clean shot. The gunfire ceased, and we looked around. Bodies littered the dock, blood pooling on the wooden planks.
All my men were accounted for. The Ajello's were strewn across the boat and docks, and none of the women were harmedbeyond the atrocities they'd experienced before we showed up. "Deposit the Ajello's on Fernando's doorstep, make sure the women are taken to the hotel tonight and have safe passage back to their homes in the morning," I called as I walked back to my car.
"Nico, you need your shoulder looked at," Antonio said as he walked up behind me.
"It's fine, just a graze," I grumbled. It was more than a graze, but I'd had worse. Blood was soaking through my shirt, warm and sticky.
"I'll look at it when we get back to the house. Unless you want Emilia to do it for you." He arched his brow and smirked.
"She'd probably try to put another one in me," I said as the driver wound his way through the docks. Shrugging off my jacket, I was surprised by how much blood there was. The leather was ruined. Opening my shirt, Antonio looked at the wound.
"Bullet’s in there, I can see it. It shouldn't be difficult to get out." He leaned back in his seat, and we rode home in silence. The city lights blurred past the window.
Pulling into the garage, we went directly to the medical room, and Antonio took the bullet out of my shoulder and stitched me up. The pain was sharp, immediate, but I'd learned long ago not to show it. Over the years, we've found ways to avoid doctors and make it easy to treat minor injuries ourselves. I doubted this was as minor as I thought, but I didn't care.
"We need to make sure we've ID'd all the Ajello men, I think Joey ran away like the coward he is. Keep your ears open. Thanks for this." I nodded and headed for the door.
"No problem, boss. Night, good luck." Antonio snickered behind me. If he weren't my best friend, I would have shot him on the spot.
CHAPTER 21
EMILIA
Nico had barely leftthe house and it was time to put my plan in to action. I watched as the men moved the box spring and mattress into the room. They all looked at me out of the corners of their eyes, confusion and barely concealed amusement written across their faces. Putting my hands on my hips, I smiled, but I wasn't nearly done. This was just the beginning of making my point. "Camilla," I called as I walked into the kitchen. She was at the stove stirring something in a big pot. It smelled amazing, garlic and tomatoes and fresh basil, and I leaned toward it and smelled. "I'm going to gain so much weight living here."
"Oh dear, you need to." She patted my rear end like a Nonna would, and I couldn't help but smile. The gesture was so maternal, so different from anything my own mother had ever done. "Now, discussing your weight wasn't why you came flying in here like a bat out of hell."
"I need some sheets and a duvet." I crossed my arms and leaned against the counter.
"I can have the housekeeper go change the sheets. Is there a problem?" She didn't stop stirring but looked up at me, concerned.
"No, this is something I don't want the housekeeping staff involved in. A few of the men who helped me don't concern me, but I won't include anyone else." I shook my head and waited. Camilla pulled the pot of sauce off the burner and clicked it off, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Come with me." I followed the woman up the stairs, past my room and to the large closet at the end of the hallway. The linen closet was bigger than my bedroom had been at my father's house. She pulled out extra sheets and handed them to me, and grabbed a big comforter, the fabric soft and expensive, before she marched back toward my room.
"No, Camilla, please, I don't want." She ignored my plea and opened the door, staring at the scene before her. Two beds, in a room where there should only be one.
"Thank you for keeping the staff out of this; it's not going to end well." She pushed the large blanket into my arms and walked out of the room, shaking her head. Giggling, I made the extra bed and looked at the his-and-hers beds that were sure to drive him crazy. The beds looked ridiculous, like something out of a 1950s sitcom. Perfect.
He said he would be late, but it was much later than I expected. The clock had passed midnight, then one, then two. I hated thinking about what he was doing or where he was. Every time he went out, it was risky, but I knew he had a good team around him whose sole purpose was to keep him safe. Still, the worry ate at me, making it hard to concentrate on my book.
When the front door slammed shut, I heard low voices in the entryway, footsteps on the stairs, and the doorknob turning. Oh shit, what have I done? This was a stupid idea. Too late, he sees it. "What the actual fuck." He bellowed. The door to our roomwas slammed so hard, I was sure the frame was going to splinter. The sound echoed through the room like a thunderclap.
