6. Ronan

Chapter 6

Ronan

T he Capo’s operation is an hour outside of the city. His garage and junkyard are surrounded by a big chain-link fence, and this mangy-looking dog patrols the open spaces. It’s exactly like she said it’d be, and Niall frowns through his binoculars as the rest of the men get into position.

“And the fucking Santoro girl just brought this to you?” He shakes his head and looks at me. “She’s got an ulterior motive. No doubt in my mind.”

“Of course she does.” I don’t mention that I know it already: she’s dead broke and desperate to avoid going homeless. “But what’s it matter? She’s right and we’re about to build a nice little business for our family.”

His eyebrows raise. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I lean back in my seat and smile to myself. This is the part I didn’t tell Valentina about. Her plan is all about breaking into this place and taking all the cash and any valuables—but that’s thinking too small.

“Her little Capo friend down there has a good thing going, and you said it yourself, the cousins think I’ve been too soft. Well, we’re not here to rob the guy. We’re here to take him over.”

Niall looks surprised, but he finally laughs and raises the binoculars again. “Fucking devious.”

“His network won’t give a shit who’s writing their checks, so long as everyone gets paid and nobody gets a bullet to the head. Well, except for him.”

“The cousins will like it. Another revenue stream.”

“That’s the big thinking that makes me such a wonderful boss.” I get a text from Seamus on my encrypted phone: everyone’s ready to go.

I wait to send the greenlight. I let myself savor this moment, because Valentina was right. Her plan makes total sense, and there’s no doubt in my mind that it’ll work. It was hard, sitting around that bar and watching her work like a good little office drone, but I might’ve played up the ADHD a little harder than necessary, mostly to see what she was made of.

And she came through. A well-thought-out and solid operation.

Yes, we’ve all got ulterior motives, I can’t deny it.

“Let’s do this,” I say and send the text that sets the fireworks off.

In this case, the fireworks consist of a very large truck driving very fast followed by two more trucks filled with heavily armed men. Meanwhile, Niall, six other trusted soldiers, and I hit the back of the place. We toss rugs over the barbed wire and climb, and when the guards start shooting at the front gate, we’re there to take them out from behind. Turns out the dog’s not even a problem: the mangy animal barks like wild but doesn’t actually try to bite anyone.

Taking out security takes all of five minutes. We leave their bodies in plain view as we storm the garages and find the chop shop workers hunkered down behind their ripped-up vehicles. I have Seamus and his troops zip-tie them up, all according to Valentina’s vision, and kick in the back office.

Former Santoro Capo Sal Villanueva’s got dark, slicked-back hair, a grease-stained dress shirt, and a gut that doesn’t seem interested in staying contained. The guy’s the definition of a stereotypical Italian mafioso. He’s got his arm in a safe, and he’s in the middle of shoving cash into a bag when we find him. Basically, it’s a pants-around-the-ankles situation. Valentina expected more of a fight from him, but the old Capo clearly isn’t what he used to be.

“Take a seat, Sal,” I tell him, holding a gun aimed at his face. He’s smart and also a criminal, so he does what he thinks will keep him alive.

He sits down and starts flipping. “I can give you names and numbers. All the guys that work with me. All my buyers. But they’re in my head, you hear me? You kill me, you get shit.”

“Who says I want your buyers, huh?” I smile at him and sit in the chair across from his desk. “Come on, Sal, think for a minute. What’s an Irish prick like me doing here?”

“I don’t know.” He’s visibly sweating. I don’t blame him. Valentina said once he was beaten, all I had to do was apply a little pressure, and he’d give me whatever I wanted. I decide she’s right.

“Tell me about Valentina Santoro.”

He’s not good at hiding his shock. He sits still, not moving, and glances toward the door. Outside in the garage, Niall’s overseeing Seamus and his guys as they comb the place for anything worth selling.

“What do you want with the Don’s daughter?”

“Former Don. Very dead Don. Tell me what you know about her.”

“She’s smart,” he says and frowns at me. His eyebrows knit together. “Don’t tell me she’s involved with this?”

“Focus up, Sal. Tell me about her.”

“Like I said, smart girl. Her father loved her. I mean, not her real father, but if you said that shit around him, he would’ve kicked your fucking ass, so nobody talked about it. But we all knew.”

Adopted. Interesting. I didn’t know, and it didn’t matter, but it was worth making note of it. “What else?”

“Luciano kept her close. He was grooming her, I guess. We thought it was weird, you know, not even your own blood, and a fucking girl, but treating her like she was going to be Don one day. Like that’d ever fucking happen.”

“Did you like her?”

“All the boys did. I mean, the girl’s good looking, right? But she was also personable. What the fuck is this about?”

“Nothing,” I say, glancing back toward the garage. Niall and Seamus look like they’re finishing up out there. “Just want to get to know her more, that’s all.”

“I mean, I got stories about the girl.” He sounds scared now. “She was mouthy. Hard to deal with. But you know?—”

I stand and shoot him in the head. His skull and brain matter mist against the wall behind him.

Nobody in the other room flinches. They knew what was coming. Hell, I think Sal knew too.

I’m not sure why I asked him about Valentina. The girl’s worming herself deep into my head. It must be the sorry state of her apartment getting to me—otherwise, I never would give a crap about her.

I head back out into the main room. Niall drags a man in zip-ties over. He’s older, in his early fifties, with gray hair and hard eyes. “This is Rich. Say hello to Ronan Hayes.”

“Hello,” Rich says.

“He runs the shop floor, like a sort of manager, right, Rich?” Niall nudges him, and Rich nods. “Rich likes living. He has a family. Right, Rich?”

“Two girls,” he grunts.

I put my gun away. “I assume you want to keep breathing, right, Rich? You want to see those girls grow up and give you grandkids?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then you work for me now, and so does everyone else here. You’re going to convince them. The work keeps going, the money keeps flowing, and everyone gets a little bonus too. How’s that sound, Rich?”

He glances toward the office. Sal’s corpse is visible behind the glass. “Sounds fine,” he says.

“Wonderful. Niall, get rid of the cuffs. Let’s start making sure our new employees understand the situation, shall we?”

As Rich talks his business associates into getting on board with the change in management, I think about my ulterior motives. I think about my cousin problem, about factions in factions, and about Valentina back in her apartment, right on the cusp of starvation. I think of neat plans and ciphers and smart girls, and I wonder if maybe we can’t solve a whole lot of problems, if only we start working together.