Chapter 27

27

Creed

“ Y ou and Aldo are going in alone? You can’t be serious,” Dre says from where he and Tristan lean against the SUV in the parking garage. His arms are crossed over his chest. I’ve just told them my plan for how to get this party started. Of course, Dre wants to bitch about it.

“I know what I’m doing.” Nothing and no one will stop me from going after Zara’s daughter tonight. “If I storm into the building with an army, it’ll raise the alarm.”

“Oh, it’s going to raise the alarm no matter what. Missing kids have a tendency to do that,” Tristan says with a chuckle. Still, he comes over and holds out his palm to me. When I take it, he pulls me in for an embrace, slapping my back. “Good luck, boss. Call us if you need us.”

“He’s going to need us,” Dre mutters .

“Just follow behind us, wait until we’re inside, and get a look at the place before you do anything.”

With that, I open the door and climb into the SUV. Aldo has already changed the license plates to fakes and loaded up both vehicles with weapons, armor, and zip ties, so I tell him, “Let’s go.”

“Can you hear me?” I ask into the earpiece an hour later after Aldo and I have suited up and staked out the apartment, searching for any changes since we last left.

“Ready, boss,” Tristan replies from the car parked a block away. “Local wi-fi has been jammed so any personal security cameras inside the building should be offline until someone notices.”

“Good. Aldo and I are going in now. Wait where you are until you hear from us.”

I’ve pulled a lot of jobs before — murders, heists, robberies, teenage punk bullshit — but I’ve never wanted any of them to go off without a hitch as much as I want this one to be flawless.

I wish Carmine was with us. My brother loved kids, wanted a dozen of his own. He would’ve been on board with this plan even if it was half-cooked.

Since Emilio’s apartment is on the sixth floor, Aldo and I slip into the stairwell and start the trek upward while keeping our heads down and baseball caps pulled low to avoid being identified on any cameras.

We step through the door to the floor when I hear the elevator ding. Before the door can shut behind Aldo, we backpedal. I keep it cracked to watch the hallway and see who exits the elevator.

My heart drops to my stomach when an entourage strides past, surrounding a single, bald, older man.

It’s fucking Emilio.

Of all the times for him to visit...I guess Friday night is one of them. If I had waited and done more recon for another week, I would’ve known that too.

And of course, he also had to bring a small army with him.

“What do we do now, boss?” Aldo whispers as I let the stairwell door shut softly.

We sure as shit can’t walk out any of the main doors right now, since there could be more guards downstairs or a car waiting at the curb. Glancing around, I jerk my chin up and begin climbing the steps as quietly as I can.

Over my shoulder, I whisper to Aldo, “We’ll go up two floors and try to find a custodian closet to wait him out in.”

The eighth floor doesn’t have such a closet, so we go up to the ninth. There, we find a maintenance room, but the door is locked. Aldo rams his shoulder into it a few times, and it buckles.

Once we’re inside, I press the earpiece to inform Dre and Tristan what’s going on, then have them pull around, so they can watch the front of the building and tell us when Emilio and his entourage leave.

“Good thing we waited a few minutes, huh, boss?” Aldo remarks.

“Yeah, good thing,” I agree, turning over a bucket to sit on top of it.

I refuse to let this setback kill our plan, though. Zara would be so damn devastated if I returned home without her daughter tonight. I refuse to let her down.

Loving her apparently means wanting to do everything in my power to make her happy. It’s like her feelings matter more than anything else in the world.

And that’s exactly the problem. I’m starting to make Zara a priority over everyone and everything else, even all the people I’m responsible for protecting.

“We wait until Emilio leaves. If he takes the guards with him, we do what we planned to do tonight. ”

“You still want to do this tonight?”

“Yes, tonight!”

“That could be hours from now, boss.”

“Yes, Aldo, it could be. So, have a seat, get comfortable. We’re not leaving unless it’s with that little girl.”

Tristan finally tells us that Emilio has exited the building with his guards a little after ten. I assumed the girl would be asleep by now and was wondering if he was going to stay overnight. That definitely would’ve fucked everything up.

Once we confirm that all his cars have pulled away, we wait another thirty minutes for Emilio to get out of Manhattan before putting our plan into action.

Stun gun baton out and by my side, I pull the brim of my Yankees hat down over my eyes and lead the way down the stairs back to the sixth floor.

“Ready?” I turn to ask Aldo at the stairwell door.

“Let’s do this, boss.”

For a long moment, I wonder if I’m about to send this man, my cousins, and myself to an early grave.

But I didn’t force any of them to be here. They could have walked away when I told them what we were doing. And with the Kevlar vests, we’re as protected as we can be. We also have the element of surprise on our side too.

I open the stairwell door and slam my baton into the camera above the lens to bust it, hoping it’s the only one on the floor. Then I walk straight to the apartment. I knock rather than try to sneak in. It’ll look less like a kidnapping if the door isn’t broken down and the lock is still intact. Here’s hoping the guards assume it’s their bossman returning or one of his henchmen and answer without thinking .

The meatheads are too confident. I hear the stride of boots on the other side of the door, then the turn of the lock. They didn’t bother glancing out the peephole. Thank god they’re morons.

As soon as the man opens the door, Aldo is ready. Standing off to the side where he can’t be seen, he reaches around and shoves the stun gun directly into the man’s neck before he can open his mouth and ask what we want.

The guard barely makes a sound as he clutches his throat and stumbles backward. I strike him on the top of his head with the blunt end of the baton, putting him down. Aldo grabs his phone as we move past him.

We run right into the second guard on his way to check on his buddy. He throws up a gargantuan-sized forearm to block my baton coming down toward his face. I shove the weapon into his dick instead, dropping him to his knees. A few hits to his head with the baton have him down and out too.

Only two more to go if there are, in fact, only four.

The interior of the apartment is mostly dark, only two lamps glowing softly next to a sofa. With quiet steps, we cross the living room and wait. I tell Dre and Tristan through the earpiece, “Get up here.”

“On the way,” Dre replies.

As soon as they join us, it’s time to finish this. “We find the other guards, disarm them by stuns or blows only, get their phones, and then you two zip tie their wrists and ankles to take them with us,” I instruct. “Can’t have them telling their boss what happened as soon as we leave.”

“You want them alive?” Dre asks.

“Yes.”

“Why? The dead don’t speak,” Aldo remarks.

“Not that I owe any of you a reason, but I want to question them. Make sure at least one survives. Two would be better. ”

“You’ve got it, boss,” Tristan replies, and Dre nods his agreement.

“How do we get them out of the building without the cameras catching us?” Aldo asks.

Taking a play from Zara’s book, I tell them, “Let’s see if they’ll fit down the garbage chute, then fish them out of the compactor.”

“Brilliant,” Tristan chuckles.

“It is,” I agree. “And it was Zara’s idea.”

I really hope this building has a giant chute or things will get tricky. We don’t have time to waste dragging off four big men, but we can’t leave them alive either.

“You ready to proceed, or would you like to debate every single move I plan to make first?”

“Sorry boss,” Tristan responds.

“Won’t happen again,” Aldo promises.

“Let’s go,” Dre agrees.

I give them a nod just as the other two guards barrel down the hallway, probably having heard our voices.

Aldo and I each take one on while our backup slips around and stuns the back of one’s neck and the throat of another.

Now, we just have to secure the guards, find the girl, and get the fuck out of here.

I tip my head toward the closed doors, telling Aldo to start checking the rooms on the right while I take the left. There could be more guards, but the odds are good that only the four we took down are in the apartment.

The closest door to my left is cracked open. I push inside and see a dark and empty bedroom.

I continue through the luxury apartment, until from the doorway of the last room in the hallway on the right side, Aldo says, “Here, boss.” Smart of Emilio to put the girl furthest from the door in case of a situation like this .

Unfortunately, the dumbass has his gun out and is pointing it inside that goddamn room.

“Put that away,” I growl while shoving him aside.

That’s when I see why he has his gun out.

Two women who look just as sweet and harmless as Zara, maybe a few years younger than her, have their own small-caliber handguns raised and pointed right at my head.

“Good evening, ladies,” I say, lifting my hands up in front of me, so they can see I’m only holding the stun gun baton. I jerk the earpiece from my ear to concentrate without hearing Dre and Tristan’s updates on restraining the guards.

One of them, the blonde, looks like she’s prepared to pull the trigger if I breathe wrong. I search the room for Oriana, but don’t see her. She must be in a room off from this living area.

“Ladies, we’re in a bit of a hurry, so I’m going to make this quick. We will not harm Oriana. We’re here to get her back to her mother. Do either of you know Zara? Maybe you’ve even been along on some of her supervised visits, where she spends maybe an hour at a time with Oriana at the park.” I probably should’ve asked Zara if the women looked familiar.

“I’ve met her. Mr. Rovina said she’s an alcoholic whore,” the blonde replies.

“Well, Emilio is lying to you. Did you know that the Rovinas took Oriana from Zara when she was only a day old?”

The two women exchange a look, one that I hope means they’re softening to the idea of handing over the girl to us.

“Put the guns down and let us take Oriana back to Zara tonight. Please .”

“We need to hurry this along, boss,” Aldo says from behind me.

Dammit, I know.

“What will it take for you to give her to me?” I ask them. “Name your price. Anything. But I can’t leave this building without her. I don’t think Zara would ever forgive me for getting her hopes up about getting her daughter back and then failing so spectacularly.”

“You’re not taking her,” the blonde snaps.

“Paige,” the other woman whispers. “Maybe he’s telling the truth.”

“And what if he isn’t, Bethany? No telling what could happen to her!”

“I am telling the truth. And Zara made me promise not to hurt either of you. She knows you’re the girl’s nannies, that you’ve been caring for her daughter while she couldn’t. So, name your price. Because you see, Zara doesn’t have to know what actually happens here tonight. The guards are all down. There are four of us to you two. My guys are trained shooters. So, while you might land the first shot, my money is on us landing the last ones. Is this girl worth dying for to keep her from her sweet, gentle mother?”

“Who are you?” the blonde huffs.

“I’m Zara’s husband.”

“He’s Creed fucking Ferraro,” Aldo announces from behind me.

“That too,” I agree with a wince since sharing my identity wasn’t part of the plan. Too late now, we’ll have to roll with it.

Now the women exchange another look, and their faces tighten with concern, clearly having heard my name before.

Some sort of silent conversation passes between them, and then the blonde says, “Oriana doesn’t leave this apartment without us.” Before I can object, she adds, “We’re all she knows, who she trusts. You’ll terrify her.”

“Okay, so then you two will come with us quietly. I have plenty of room in my penthouse for you to stay and help Zara get reacquainted with her daughter who she’s barely seen in three years.”

“He knows a lot about her to be lying,” the brunette, Bethany, remarks.

“When’s Oriana’s birthday?” the blonde, Paige, asks .

Her birthday? Zara has told me twice, hasn’t she? Hottest summer ever, and she was gigantic, nine months pregnant. Best day of her life and favorite day of the year, even if she doesn’t get to celebrate with Oriana.

“July fourteenth,” I answer. “She was born July fourteenth and taken away from Zara on the fifteenth.”

“Boss...” Aldo warns, having obviously heard from our backup that we need to hurry.

The blonde finally nods and tells the brunette, “You pack a bag, and I’ll get Ori.”

Ori. I wonder what Zara will think about the abbreviated name some other woman gave to her daughter. But at least it seems like these two women really do care for the girl. To hold us at gunpoint and be willing to die for her means that they love her too.

“Make it fast. Put your guns and phones down on the floor first and leave them here. You have two minutes,” I tell the women.

They both lay their guns on the carpet in front of them, then their cell phones. The blonde slips into a back room while the brunette runs around the living room area and kitchen, gathering up toys and cups and shoving them into a giant shoulder bag.

“How are things looking for our exit?” I ask Aldo without taking my eyes off the women.

“Tristan and Dre thumped the guards on the heads again to knock them out and have got two shoved down the garbage chute.”

“Good,” I say in relief.

It turns out that the chute could accommodate all four large men.

Leaving the removal of the guards to Dre and Tristan, Aldo and I hurry the women along down the stairwell. I’m not too concerned about them being caught on any street cameras, since our faces won’t be seen, and Aldo and I are close enough to the size of the guards. Once we’re out, the women will live under my roof, under constant surveillance, unable to tell Emilio or anyone else what’s happened.

The small, curly-haired little girl is half-asleep on the blonde’s shoulder the whole time we hurry to the vehicle. Only when we’re waiting turns to pile inside the SUV with the overhead light on does Oriana finally lift her head.

I’m standing behind the women, waiting on the brunette, when Oriana’s sleepy eyes blink open to take in me and the dark street. And in that moment, I’m struck by the same protective instinct as the night I watched Izaiah hold a knife to Zara’s throat.

This girl is precious and innocent, just like her mother, and I know I’d risk it all to keep her safe.

I rack my brain, trying to remember what Zara told me about her. She said her daughter is bossy and loves Disney princesses. That’s why I whisper, “Hello, princess.”

The blonde stiffens in concern that Oriana is not only wide awake, but she’s also lifted her head from the woman’s shoulder to stare at me, a complete stranger.

“You don’t have a car seat,” the nanny remarks as she slides into the backseat with Oriana on her shoulder.

“I think we have bigger concerns right now.” I take the seat next to them. Then to the girl, I say, “My name is Creed, and we’re going to go see your mommy.”

“Zara,” the blonde corrects me. “She doesn’t know…”

“Seriously?” I mutter with a disgusted shake of my head. She doesn’t know Zara is her mother? What the hell is wrong with these people? “Ori, you’re going to see Zara and tomorrow we’re going to find you the prettiest princess crown in town.”

The girl gives me a sleepy smile, then lowers her head to the nanny’s shoulder, shutting her eyes again .

I hold my breath until all the doors of the SUV close with us inside, the other nanny in the front passenger seat.

When Aldo pulls away, heading the short distance to my penthouse, I finally breathe a sigh of relief.

We actually fucking did it.