me when I was a child and had known me as a mob boss even longer. “Artyom mentioned Thaddeo’s widow is living at the house.”
“Elena insists she knows what is wrong with Tatiana and can cure her.” I glanced at Feodor. “Is there something you want to say?”
He wasted no time. “Now more than ever, you need to assert yourself as a powerful figure and one willing to play nice with the other organizations. Parading around the widow of your enemy is not…”
I laughed. “Since when did you become quite the publicist?” At his expression, I said, “Elena is my guest. She has the blessing of the Rocchettis and me to stay in New York. There is no reason to be worried, Feodor.”
“The Rocchettis…did the Chicago Don give permission?”
There was only one permission Feodor was referring to.
“Boss!” Yelled a voice before I could answer.
Immediately, Feodor and I both turned, hoping for good news.
Instead, one of my men pointed down at a hole, his expression tight. “We hit a pipe.”
Water was filling the hole in question, muddy and opaque. If the key was there, it was beneath meters of disgusting water and days away from being useful to me.
“We need to find this key, Kostya—”
“I’m aware.” I cut Feodor off and gestured to the men. “Do what you can. But we are not leaving this property until we find the key.”
I worked my jaw. I should have kept more Falcones alive. Overthrowing the family would have been harder but there would’ve been more people who knew where this key was.
You do have one Falcone left, said a small voice in the back of my head. An image of Elena came to mind, her long straight brown hair framing her sharp but wild features. Even in my mind, her eyes were narrowed with irritation and her lips parted as she said something sarcastic.
I turned on my heel and headed towards the manor, waving away my men who tried to accompany me. Roman would shit a brick when he found out I had entered our enemies house alone, but all our enemies were dead, or those who weren’t soon would be.
As I had expected, Falcone’s taste bordered on mundane to ugly. The layout wasn’t complicated—a design flaw on his behalf—and I easily found his office. Whereas the rest of the house had been plain, Thaddeo’s office held the most intrigue and interest.
This obviously had been where he spent most of his time, despite the allure of Elena outside and upstairs.
Stupid man, I thought, scanning the room. But one man’s loss is another man’s treasure.
My men had already torn through the Falcone manor, going through all the documents and safes. There was nothing left to be read or seen.
Thaddeo had lived on the earth for thirty years and failed to leave any real mark. It had taken barely an hour to learn all we could from him, memorize his legacy and then throw it away with his flesh and bones.
But nothing about that key had been found.
A second look in his office proved useless, with the only notable objects being his phone and a bottle of heart medication. The phone had been scoured, but there was nothing on there we hadn’t already known.
I found myself walking around the house. I liked running my hands along Thaddeo’s walls and striding over his floors in my shoes.
This was all mine now—I didn’t want any of it.
Many of my men, Roman especially, were itching to burn it down. The last final act against our enemies. But I liked keeping it here, liked showing everyone that I’d intruded Thaddeo’s place of rest and shot him in the head.
He hadn’t been safe, and neither were they.
Loud violent acts were not always the way to go. Sometimes quiet, haunting reminders served a king better.
As I went to leave, I walked through the kitchen. To my surprise, this was the first place I found any sign that Elena had lived here. In a pile next to the back door, leading out to the garden, was a worn tower of books and a flowerpot filled with a vibrant lilac flower.
I picked up the book at the top of the pile, tossing it in between my hands. It was worn and old, dedicated to someone else in old faded calligraphy.
Behind me, the door suddenly burst open and Feodor came storming in, his booming voice entering the room before he did. Anger and disgust gripped his features.
“Kostya, another woman has been found.”
I didn’t turn