the bedroom I’d used right after Kirill and Joanna got serious.
Don Marco was somewhere on the premises, but I didn’t have any idea what Yury had planned for him.
He could sit in his own shit for the entire night as far as I was concerned.
The man was nothing more than collateral in case the intel he provided about Lucia’s flight proved false.
With his alliance binding Sabato to him, that had to be worth something.
I’d lain awake most of the night, my gut in knots, my mind on overdrive. Most of the next day we spent in preparations for Lucia’s rescue, and at least that was enough to keep me preoccupied.
I hoped to hell that fuck Roberto Rossi had kept his greasy hands off of Lucia.
Hoped the don was so old his cock didn’t work anymore.
And I hoped beyond anything Lucia hadn’t done something foolish. Like decide to slit her wrists instead of just slashing her thighs when that howling void she’d told me about got to be too much to deal with anymore.
I only had one chance to get her, and it had to be before she reached the airport’s bustling terminals and pumped up security.
Find her and slay the Sicilians. Those were my only goals.
Otherwise I’d be crossing oceans to retrieve her.
At the lower levels of one of Logan airport’s parking garages, we’d been lying in wait for hours. Marco had assured me this was the area the Sicilian’s always used to arrive and depart as it was the least secured by American forces, which would work in our favor. Our SUVs had all been backed in at various spots throughout the structure. Another dozen Zolotov soldiers hid inside one of our vans at the ready for my signal to attack.
A fucking parking garage, just like yesterday when I’d been unable to stop those pizdas from stealing Lucia away.
That was not an option this time.
Maksim, Kirill, and Yury accompanied me too, and we were all armed to the teeth and ready for war.
Finally, two hours before the flight, flashy cars I recognized rolled past one by one.
My body pulsed with energy, my grip tightening on my new Sig Sauer while I alerted the other brigadiers via text. Silently, all across the garage, our doors swung open while Sabato’s entourage parked close to the elevators up a small tar slope.
In between our two factions, innocent civilians milled around. They had no idea about the chaos about to go down. Either they’d take cover or scatter at the first sounds of gunfire. I had little faith left in humanity.
Stealthily, we made our approach, ducking among vehicles and zigzagging from cement column to column.
Like predators stalking prey.
Heavily armed predators.
One woman with a blonde cap of hair saw us and shrank back quickly.
Smart girl.
Had Lucia been as smart?
Was she still alive?
We roamed closer still, to the bottom of the slope, like a well-orchestrated machine.
Suddenly Kirill rushed ahead, nimbly attaching himself to the barrier that separated levels. He parkoured along silently and nearly out of sight.
He knew his job.
I weaved ever closer until I saw the car doors popping open.
Until I saw Lucia.
I fucking never wanted her to leave my sight again.
My heart boomed in my chest so much louder than my steps as I dashed nearer.
The old man doddered along in the lead with his personal protection detail while Roberto roughly grabbed Lucia’s arm, shepherding her toward the elevator at which point I’d lose her forever.
Fury the likes of which I had never known ran straight through my body, stronger than the voltages they’d shocked me with yesterday.
Jumping up, I showered bullets into the cars where passengers still remained.
“LUCIA!” I bellowed from the depths of my soul.
23
Lucia
OUT OF THE MURKY depths of the underground garage came the voice I never thought I’d hear again.
Just as Roberto let me loose to locate the new threat, Sabato found some hidden bit of strength and wrenched my head back by my hair. He held me in front of him like a human shield with his cane barred across the front of my throat.
In the next moment, a hulking black shadow rushed us from the side.
I only recognized the blur as Kirill when he hurtled closer. He moved with agility and speed and, before the Italians knew to react, Kirill shoved the frail don back.
Sweeping me up in his arms, he didn’t finish running until he’d transported me away from the Sicilian masses.
More of the Bratva’s men emerged as dark shapes ranging closer, and Roberto shouted, “Kill