Raul
“So now that we have enough information about the Escarras’ bases around Lincolnwood and Evanston, it’s time to take the next step. Alright?” Riccardo glances at me as if waiting for confirmation, and I can only nod. I don’t know that much about the places he just named, but it sounds like the Messinas have everything covered.
All of the Messina brothers, Sergei Pushkov, and I are gathered together in Riccardo’s office which can barely hold this many people at once. How do they manage to work here, with all the ruckus coming from the first floor? A damn warehouse doesn’t look like a good place for discussing something so important, but what do I know, right? The Messinas have their own rules.
“These are neutral territories, though,” Louis says with a thoughtful frown and points at some piece of Chicago that looks exactly the same as everything else around it to me. “Are we going to break the law?”
“We have to do all we can to avoid it,” Riccardo says, looking at Paolo as if telling him to continue.
“We’re gonna spread our men across the perimeter and catch any Mexican trying to cross it. There will also be traps here, here, and here.”
Paolo points at specific locations across the neighborhood. “So that if anyone manages to sneak through, we’ll capture them there.”
“That requires a lot of people,” Giovanni murmurs somewhere from behind me.
I glance behind my back, and I see him leaning on the doorway with his arms crossed and a grim frown on his face. He doesn’t look back at me, but I can feel ire oozing off him in response. And after living with him for a decade, Isabella still calls me a douchebag, huh?
“That’s why we have Raul on our side.” Riccardo looks at me pointedly, and this time, when I look at Giovanni with a quirked eyebrow, he gives me an irritated glare. Nice. “How many people do you have in Chicago now?”
“Around fifty,” I say calmly, turning back to Riccardo, and he nods. “It should be enough to cover us for tonight.”
Tonight? Already? I frown, and as if sharing my confusion, Sergei clears his throat and steps from his place by the wall, looking between
Riccardo and Paolo with a serious frown. “Don’t you think you’re rushing things? The fact that we have their location doesn’t mean that we’re ready to strike.”
“Maybe,” Riccardo says with a rather gloomy tone. He straightens up behind his desk, looking at us with cold determination. “But if we want to catch them off guard, we have to do it fast. You all know how good Gerardo is at buying information and setting spies in our families. The sooner we do it, the higher our chance to succeed.”
“But do you have enough force on your hands?” I ask, unable to hold back my suspicion. I haven’t seen the Messinas in action, so it’s hard for me to assess our chances. Perhaps if Isabella was here she could explain it to me in simpler terms and with her usual teasing comments that always motivate me to work harder just to impress her, just to-
“We do,” Riccardo says with a confident chuckle, glancing at Sergei. “Trust me.”
Well, what else is there left for me to do?
After we all agree that it’s time to go on the offensive, Paolo-with some help from Matteo through the phone-describes the next steps. At seven o’clock, when it’s already dark in the city, the Messinas, the Pushkov, and the De Lugos will take their positions around each of the Escarras’ bases that we are aware of. Fifteen minutes later, at Matteo’s command,
we’re all going to advance at the same time so we don’t give the Escarras a chance to run away and regroup their forces.
“We plan to kill each and every member of the Escarra gang and get rid of those rats once and for all,” Paolo finishes with a rather confident note and looks around. “Any questions?”
Actually, I have so many questions that I don’t even know where to start.
“Are you going to send the information about our locations to Ruben?” I look up at Paolo, trying to sound collected and completely unbothered by the list of names and locations I’m hearing about for the first time.
“Yes, Matteo will be in touch with him all the way through.” “What about me? Do I have to be here?”
Paolo shrugs. “It’s not necessary, but it’ll make it easier to communicate if something goes wrong.”
I hum and nod as the image of the operation starts to form in my head. Good. It’s good…but I bet it would be easier to catch up if Isabella was here with me. She understands the world of Chicago so much better, and everything seems-wait.
I clench my jaw. Goddamnit. Why am I thinking about her again? I bite my cheek from the inside, looking away. Perhaps because I have no idea where she is, and it’s been bothering me since morning. I thought she would at least show up here, but I still see no hint of her presence, and it affects me more than I’d like to admit.
As if hearing my thoughts, I hear Giovanni walk to Riccardo on the other side of the desk and say in a lower voice, “Isabella should be here.
Why didn’t you call her?”
“I did,” Riccardo immediately responds with surprise in his voice. “I thought she was coming with you, actually.”
“What?” Giovanni frowns, and as I look at him our gazes meet for a moment. Of course that idiot is gonna suspect me first as if the news doesn’t make something in the middle of my chest tighten. “Have you called her?”
“Yes, but she didn’t pick up.” Shit.
Giovanni also curses under his breath and pulls out his phone while I step closer to them, unable to hold back the unpleasant feeling spreading through my guts. Something’s wrong, I can feel it, even though I have no idea why or how to fix it. Isabella wouldn’t respond to my calls anyway, so all I can do is wait while Giovanni dials her number again and again, the frown on his face deepening.
“So?” I ask impatiently after he puts his phone down. It’s a dumb question-I would know it if she picked up his call-but I just can’t help myself. The feeling in my guts is getting stronger, and a sudden memory of Mariana being kidnapped sends chills down my spine.
Giovanni looks up at me with darkness in his eyes-and the next moment, he’s already pushing a chair out of his way to grab my collar with a growl on his lips. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know.” I stand up against him, straightening my shoulders and holding his gaze even as Giovanni pushes me back with all his force.
“You are her husband!”
“So what?” I snap back, finally grabbing his wrists to tear his hands away from me. “I don’t follow her every time she leaves the house.”
Although maybe I fucking should.
“You are responsible for her,” Giovanni spits into my face before suddenly pulling back and taking out his gun. “Do you remember what I told you? Do you remember?”
He points his gun at my forehead as if this kind of cheap trick may actually disturb me. What a moron. I look Giovanni in the eyes with a
challenge, the fire of anger and distress pulling my guts into a rope. I don’t care about his stupid stunts right now, I don’t care if he thinks that I’m lying. All I care about is finding out where the hell Isabella is.
“Giovanni, put it down.” Riccardo sounds just as annoyed as I am, and I can see him cross his arms and give Giovanni a glare from behind his back. “We have more important things right now.”
“More important than Isabella’s safety?” Giovanni sharply turns back to him, lowering his gun, but he sounds more distressed than accusing now. “Riccardo, she-”
“She’s a grown-up woman. If anything happened to her, we would already know by now.”
Would they? I can’t help but frown, glancing at the map with the Escarras’ bases and our locations plastered all over it. Is there anyone keeping an eye on her now? Everyone’s too busy with the upcoming operation. Wouldn’t now be the best time to kidnap her without anyone noticing?
I purse my lips with old memories tugging at my heart. After all, that was exactly what they did with Mariana, and no one was there to stop them until it became too late.
The thought is so overwhelming and so persistent in my mind that even when Giovanni steps back, grumbling something about being her brother, I still feel too agitated to stay still. And even after a few minutes of trying to convince myself that Isabella is too smart to get herself into trouble, the tight feeling in my gut is too strong to ignore.
“You know what,” I say eventually, standing up and pulling the others’ attention. “I’ve got to go home. Keep me updated.”
And before anyone can say anything, I turn away and rush to the door, feeling their surprised gazes on me. As I walk past Giovanni, though, my gaze darts to his face, and I catch a look of confusion that quickly shifts into a rather grumpy kind of appreciation. He even nods at me-perhaps
with a silent thanks-a moment before I get out of there.
A few of the guards outside the warehouse give me weird looks too, probably wondering why the hell I’m leaving at such an important moment. But right now, even my revenge is not as important as Isabella’s safety.
Besides, I’m pretty sure they can handle the operation without me. Ruben knows what he’s doing.
The afternoon sun is slowly rolling down to the horizon as I reach our house, and the undisturbed quiet of it makes something inside of me tighten. Shit. What if Isabella isn’t here? What if-I shake my head. I can’t wire myself up with all these doubts. I have to keep my head cool so that, whatever happens, I can be there for her.
“Isabella!” I yell as soon as I storm through the front door. “Isabella!”
No answer. Shit. I run a hand through my hair, looking around while my thoughts swirl in distress. Where should I go now? What should I do?
As I pace through the living room, hoping to find Isabella in the middle of an afternoon nap, the blinking light on our answering machine
catches my attention. No one ever calls us here. No one even knows we live here-well, except for the Messinas and Ruben, but they use their cell phones instead. Who would try to reach us here?
With a grim frown and a heavy heart, I press the button on the machine and listen to the robotic voice reading out loud, “You have two new messages.”
Two? I sit on the armrest of the couch, listening to the beep signifying the first message.
“Hello, Mrs. De Lugo? It’s Nancy from the Love Life Clinic, I talked to you half an hour ago, but it seems that we got disconnected. Big news, huh?”
The girl chuckles, and I hold my breath, listening closer. Clinic? Big news? What’s going on?
“I recommend you schedule an appointment with an obstetrician as soon as possible. Our doctors will be happy to guide you through your first months of pregnancy and answer any questions you may have, okay? So just call me back anytime…”
Nancy from the Love Life Clinic keeps talking about their phone number and work hours, but I feel like my mind just spaces out for a moment-before I force myself to take a deep breath. My heart is pounding, and my palms feel sweaty all of a sudden. Obstetrician?
Pregnancy? Is she… I swallow, feeling dizzy.
Is Isabella pregnant with my child?
Oh god. I close my eyes, leaning forward on my knees as the storm of feelings shakes me to my very core. Is it possible? Is it not a joke? I shut my eyes tighter and bite my lips from the inside. After all these years…god, am I going to be a father?
An overwhelming wave of happiness squeezes my throat, and I have to force myself to breathe deeper when I hear the beep of the second message-and the voice that makes everything inside of me freeze.
“Raul Jose de Lugo, long time no see!” Gerardo exclaims in Spanish, sounding as theatrically delighted as always. “I didn’t expect to meet you in Chicago, out of all places, but I guess the hot weather of Tijuana got to you as well, huh?”
I clench my hands into fists as the euphoria in my chest immediately turns into rage. That son of a bitch. How did he get our number? Where is he?
“But I’m afraid I can’t share this city with you. I’ve been working too hard to gain my place here, and I’m not gonna give up on it, so…why
don’t we have a chat? Not as equals, of course. That’s not how I do business
-but you know that better than anyone, right?”
He chuckles, and the sound makes me growl under my breath. God, I forgot what a piece of shit he is. What does he want from me now?
“Come alone to Loyola Beach tonight at seven, and hey, no delays this time! Unless you want to become a widower again.”