Chapter Ten

Domani

"What is this place?" Finley asks, wandering through the safehouse deep in the heart of gang territory. She runs her fingers over the back of the sofa and then trails them along the small bookcase.

"A safehouse," I say, peering through cracks between the boards over the windows at the street below. Cars line the street on both sides, but they're the same ones that were there when we arrived. We weren't followed. "No one knows about it. You'll be safe here."

If there's a safer place in Chicago, I don't know it. I have no ties to this place, no reason to come here. Neither does anyone my family knows about. The apartment belongs to Constantine Attias, an associate of the Arakas family in Silver Spoon Falls. He buried the purchase under a landslide of shell companies to use it the same way I'm using it now, as a place to disappear if the need ever strikes.

When you do what we do, you're always fucking prepared.

By the time anyone untangles the web around this place, we'll be long gone. I'm not making the same mistakes with Finley that Diego did with Amalia, hiding her in an apartment with my name stamped all over it. They can scour every safehouse of mine they can find, but they won't find her. They won't find me either.

We ditched the SUV in St. Louis and rented a Tahoe. I ditched it in a parking garage a few miles from our hotel and bought a nondescript Charger. I barely fit in the motherfucker, but no one knows what we're driving now. It's just another question mark lined up next to a big fucking row of question marks.

I'm not stupid. I've survived this game for a long time. This time, I've got more to lose than ever before. And I don't ever fucking lose. Rafe taught us that.

"Why are the windows boarded up?"

"To keep people out." I shrug. "Fuck if I know. It's not my place."

She stops prowling, turning to me in surprise. "It's not?"

"Nope. It belongs to a friend."

"Oh."

"Come here." I hold my hand out toward her, waiting until she takes it to lead her down the hallway to the bedroom. I turn on lights as we go. The furniture in the place is old and worn, but only a fool fills a place like this with expensive furniture and expects to keep it.

Half of the units in this building are vacant. A third of them are filled with squatters. The only thing keeping them out of this unit is the reinforced steel door and the fact that it's on the sixth floor. If it were easier to get into, all of Constantine's shit would be their shit too. They want somewhere to sleep. This unit is too much of a hassle when there are plenty of others that are far easier to get into.

I pull her into the closet, flipping on the light there.

"What are we… Oh," she whispers when she sees the small door hidden at the back of the closet.

"This is a safe room, mio sole." I pull open the panel designed to look like an electric box and punch in the code. The door opens, revealing the real reason I brought her here. The safe room is nearly as large as the bedroom, with its own bathroom and kitchenette. It's also fully stocked and far nicer than the apartment that hides it. "I want you to stay in here."

"Why? I thought you said no one knew about the safehouse."

"They don't, but you'll be far more comfortable in here. And I'll feel a lot better about leaving you here if I know this door is standing closed between you and everyone else in this building. Your uncle and the Valentino family aren't the only dangerous people in this city. They're all around us," I murmur. "And I can't do what I need to do if I'm worried about you."

"I'll stay here," she promises, pushing her way into my arms. "Whatever you need to make sure you come back to me, Domani."

I tip her head up, forcing her to meet my gaze. "I am coming back to you, Finley. All I'm doing tonight is a little information gathering. I won't be gone long."

My promise doesn't soothe the furrow from her brow. It doesn't kill the worry in her eyes, either. That's grown with every mile tonight. I know the only thing that's going to silence it is keeping my promise. She's terrified one or both of us isn't going to make it out of this alive. I'm not going to let that happen, but the only way she's going to believe it is to see it for herself. She's lived with fear for far too long to let go of easily.

I don't blame her for that. How can I? Hope is a fragile thing. People say it doesn't die, but they're wrong. Stifled often enough, it starves. Her uncle has been starving her of hope for years.

No more.

I press my lips to hers, pouring my soul into her for her to keep safe. It belongs to her anyway. It has since the moment I set eyes on her. Perhaps for longer than that. There's a reason I never took anyone to my bed. There's a reason I never imagined a future with anyone until her. How could I when my soul was forged for her and her alone?

"Io e te per sempre, tesoro. I'll be back soon."

"You and me forever, Domani," she whispers back.

I give her the code and wait for her to shut the door between us before I slip out of the apartment.

Coda's sitting on my couch when I slip down the hall, my gun drawn. He doesn't pull his, but I know he hears me. He's got his dark head bent, his hands folded together in his lap.

"I told you not to come back home," he says, not even lifting his head.

"I know. Did Rafe send you, or did you come on your own?"

"Does it matter?"

I slide around the back of the couch so I can see him better, keeping my back to the wall. I know he's the only one here. I checked before I came in through the window. But I'm nothing if not careful. And when your back is up against the wall, you trust no one. Not even your closest, oldest friend.

"It matters," I say quietly.

"He didn't send me," he mutters, lifting his head to pin me with a dark glower. Fury sparks in his green eyes, more emotion than most get from him. Coda can be an ice-cold motherfucker when he needs to be. He doesn't let anyone close. He rarely speaks to anyone. The man is a goddamn wall no one can breach unless he decides to let them. But we've worked side by side for fifteen years. It took him five before he decided he liked me. "He ordered me to sit this one out, but it's fucking you, so I'm here anyway."

"To kill me?"

"Haven't decided yet. I guess that depends on you." He nods at the weapon in my hands. "You going to try to kill me?"

"You know I'm not. We're ride or die, motherfucker."

"Yeah, well, this might be the dying part, motherfucker." He blows out a sharp breath. "What the fuck are you thinking, man? This isn't you."

"This is me. You know it is."

Coda knows me better than anyone. He's stitched me up, held my flesh together, and plugged bullet holes with his fingers. He knows the shit I've done and the reasons I do it. He knows exactly who I am and why. He's here now because he knows me.

"He kept her locked in that house for damn near two years, listening to every vile thing he ever did. She hasn't known freedom since she was eleven years old. I couldn't leave her there," I tell him. "You wouldn't have left her there either."

"Irish business is Irish business, brother."

"No, fanculo quello," I growl. "This city belongs to Rafe. It belongs to the Italians. What happens in it is our business. It's always been our business. The only reason he's here now is because he's trying to take what doesn't belong to him. And the only reason Rafe is letting him is because he doesn't want to face another war. But wake the fuck up, Coda. Cillian's been preparing for war since he set foot in this city. That's the only reason he's here."

"They don't have the numbers to survive a war."

"Are you so sure about that?" I ask. "Because I'm not. Finley isn't. She's lived in that house, listening to him spew his bullshit day in and day out for nearly two years now. He's been growing his ranks and prepping for war since he arrived in Chicago. And we let it happen right under our goddamn noses because we're too busy with our own bullshit to pay attention."

Coda eyes me, uncertain for the first time since I stepped through the door. He isn't stupid or slow. He knows everything there is to know about the La Cosa Nostra. And I'm guessing he's picked up more than his fair share of knowledge about the Irish mob too. He knows if I'm telling him that war is coming, I'm not just making it up to save my own ass. He knows far too much to believe something that fucking ridiculous.

"Did Rafe have the sit-down Cillian wanted?"

"He agreed to it. Cillian didn't show."

"Why the fuck wouldn't he show?" I ask, my brows furrowing. "He demanded it."

"Don't know. Every conversation he's had, he's had outside. We haven't heard a word that he hasn't wanted us to hear. Mattia figures he suspects you planted devices somewhere in the house."

"Cazzo."

"Our best guess is that he didn't show today because he's already made up his mind on how he's going to proceed." Coda eyes me levelly. "We're preparing for war and hoping we're wrong, brother."

"Why are you here, Coda?"

"You know why."

I close my eyes, muttering a curse. "No."

"It's not your choice to make, brother. It's mine."

"Yeah, well, you're making a shit choice if you're here right now instead of there." My eyes flash open. I pin him with a withering glare. "Because they need you. I don't. The only thing you're liable to do here is paint a fucking target on your back too."

"We ride together, we die together." He grins, a cold-blooded, merciless grin. "But I'd like to see that son of a bitch howling for mercy before we die, wouldn't you?"

"It's the number one item on my to-do list." I pause. "But I'm not just taking him out. I'm taking out his sons, too. The only one I'm leaving alive is the one who begs the loudest."

"Sounds like a good time to me."

I sigh, shaking my head. I don't want him to do this. If he does, there's no guarantee he'll be welcomed back. Like me, he'll be defying a direct order and betraying his oath. There's no room in the mafia for men who can't fucking take orders. There's no room for men who can't keep their word. Failing to punish one leaves the door open for others to do the same.

But this is Coda. The most dangerous motherfucker in the mafia. And the one person I'd trust to watch my back against any comer, any time, any place, any day. If anyone can help me kill that son of a bitch and stop him from starting a war, Coda can. I need him on this, even if it costs him everything, too.

"Fine. Let's go kill my wife's uncle," I mutter.

Coda's brows shoot toward his hairline. "Hold on. You got married?"

"Today."

"Cristo. Rafe is going to shit a brick."

"No," I say quietly. "That's the one part of this Rafe would understand. Let's get the fuck out of here before Diego gets bored of sitting in his car and decides to come in to poke around."

"You saw him out there?"

"He wasn't exactly trying to hide."

Coda lifts his chin in acknowledgment. "No one wants to be doing this shit, Domani. You're family. It's a shitshow all the way around."

"Yeah, well, I made my bed."

"Was it worth it?"

"No question, brother. No question."