Luciano
My head shot up in surprise. There! I had heard it. A fucking gasp. Someone had seen us and before shit could hit the fan, that person would have to be taken care of. I glanced at Ripper, one of the men with me. They had all heard that sound. Giving them a nod, I dropped the branding iron back in the coal stove and watched Ripper lift the dead man on the floor.
Was I brutal?
Fuck yes, I was. To remain in power, to remain at the top, I needed to be as brutal as possible. The mafia world was a lion-eat-dog society. And I was that Lion.
The bastard had thought he could sell out my location to the Castello and feel fucking good about it. I made sure he understood the shit he had caused before he died. It was that simple. If I wasn’t always prepared, fuck, if I was anything like previous mafia Lords, I would be six feet under by now. Peeling off my gloves, I dragged a hand through my hair and glanced in the direction of the sound we had heard.
There was no movement which meant things, The spy couldn’t have gotten far yet unless he had back-up. And considering this was an isolated dock, I would say it was very much the first option.
“Do I tell the boys to converge? Castello could strike again,” Vincenzo asked, folding his arms. He was a bald and tall man with enough ink on his skin to fill up a river.
I shook my head. “Luca will handle it. Find that mole!”
“Yes boss,” He replied and sprinted after the spy.
After ensuring that all was clean, I waited for Vincenzo to return. The tall man could be spotted yards away and when I saw he returned empty-handed, I knew he hadn’t caught the mole. These fuckers. Do I have to do all the shit myself? I pressed my lips in a firm line and walked towards him. There was no need to wait for him to reach me. The more time we wasted, the farther the spy got. And I couldn’t risk shit.
“Explain what the fuck happened and it better be a good excuse!” I spat as soon as we reached each other.
Vincenzo winced, clasped his hands behind him, and kept his face down. “I’m sorry boss,” he muttered.
A dark chuckle slipped from my lips and my hands found its way to my hair. Why the fuck was I agitated? I was never this agitated. “You had better not be bull-shitting me right now, Vincenzo. What the hell happened?”
Vincenzo opened his mouth to speak, looked up at my face then closed it promptly. Well, wasn’t that a fucking surprise? My man was ashamed of something. Who the hell was that spy?
I grabbed his arm and forced him to look into my eyes, grinding my teeth in anger. “For the last fucking time, what the hell happened?”
He sighed and spoke up then. “It was a woman,”
I arched my brow. A woman? “What kind of woman?”
He shrugged, then as if realizing what he was doing, quickly adjusted and cleared his throat awkwardly. “I couldn’t see her face. I only saw her running. She was… nimble, boss. She ran like she flew-”
Vincenzo paused when I gave him a dead-ass glare and he cleared his throat again. “It’s not a lie, boss. I swear. I could barely catch up with her. She climbed a fucking building! That building!” He pointed to a skyscraper in the distance.
If that story was true then damn, that was some fine-ass woman with deadly skills. If anything, it confirmed that she was a spy. A spy needed to be nimble to walk in and out of deadly situations. That woman was trained to be one.
“You didn’t see her face?” I asked, rubbing her jaw. The Castello was getting even more meticulous than I had imagined. They had a spy that was good?
“No boss. The rest of her was banging hot. Her hair was all tied up in a ponytail and I swear it looked like toffee-”
“Vincenzo, will you get your shit together or shall I help you do that?” I demanded, my eyes narrowing into a fierce glare.
I didn’t need him going bonkers over a woman. A spy no less! Toffee? Fucking hilarious. If he compared women’s hair to sweets, it was no wonder why he was still single.
“Call up Mourinho. Describe this woman to him, I need a sketch of her sent to every fucking division! Got it?”
“Yes sir!”
Taking a deep breath, I turned on my heels and walked toward the end of the dock. Something, a phase rang loud in my head with each step I took.
Hair like toffee?
Was there any woman I knew that fit into that description? My feet halted as a thought dawned on me and my lips split in a grin.
“It had better not be fucking true,” I hissed, whipping out my phone to call Marcus.
“Boss,” his voice filtered, stoic as usual. If there was anyone I was sure would run the gang exactly the way I wanted if anything happened to me, it would be Marcus. I had raised him since he was a little kid. Trained him with every fucking trick in my arsenal. He was a lethal weapon that I kept close because even though he was quite useful against others, he could be used against me.
“Are you in position?” I demanded.
“Yes, boss,”
“Did… Did Raven step out of the building today?”
“No boss,” he replied without missing a beat. He wasn’t lying.
“Good-” I paused. Just because he hadn’t seen her leave the house, did not mean that she didn’t leave the house… Right? Here I was, a fucking living proof.
Ah fuck. She couldn’t have found it? Could she? Fuck no. Unless… Unless she was actively looking for it, she could not have found the escape chamber.
And who says she wasn’t looking for it?
“Marcus, go upstairs. I need you to confirm if Raven is still in the penthouse.”
“Yes boss,” he replied.
I listened in as he walked, paying attention to any sudden movement. I heard him open the door, heard him call her surname in a loud and rather ominous voice.
“Gonzalez?!”
A possessive vice gripped my heart. Only I could fucking call her that! Fuck that Luciano, that does not matter right now! She had better be in that fucking house or shit would hit the fan.
“She’s not in Boss,” Marcus said after a reply and a long curse left my lips. Fuck, it was just as I feared.
“Find her,” I ordered, racing towards my bike. There were only two fucking possible things to have. One, Raven had been kidnapped or some shit like that. Two and the least favorite of my options, Raven was a fucking spy from the Castello.
Wouldn’t that explain why they had chosen to attack while I was alone? She was my personal assistant, if she hadn’t been attacked, then there was no way she wouldn’t have been with me that day.
Was the attack a sham? I revved the bike in anger, speeding up. I had to get to the bottom of this shit. If she was in any way closely related to Castello, a bullet through her brain would suffice.
“And the brand?” My mind asked in mockery. A woman like her deserved to be branded, but not by the insignia. Fuck no. If I could get my way, I’ll brand my name into her fucking flesh so everyone would know that even in death, she was still mine.
She may not be a spy, a part of me defended. Whatever she was, it would be sorted out today. I had to know if she was for it against me. I was not like other Mafia lords. There was no way I would allow a woman to be my fucking weakness!
But the attack couldn’t have been a sham. She had been brutally injured. I had watched for a few minutes, to know they hadn’t been lenient with their fists. Besides, the Castello would not want to brutally assault one of theirs.
I growled in frustration as I rode. Some things didn’t fucking add up. My phone buzzed in my pocket and tapped my helmet. It had a Bluetooth device that connected to my phone.
“Speak,” I ordered.
“We found her location, boss,” Marcus replied. “She’s at her house.”
Her house? Oh yeah fuck, I had gotten so damned used to her in my home, I’d forgotten she had a home of her own. But why the hell would she leave without telling me?
And how did Marcus not see her leaving?
“Should I send someone to get her?” Marcus asked.
“No,” I replied, changing routes. “I’ll get her myself.”