Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

Elian

I was usually the first one at the gatherings at Renzo’s, the boss’s, house. Hell, I used to be the one checking the levels of the liquor, ordering the food, and making sure there were clean glasses and plates to use.

But the music was already thumping and the chorus of voices and laughter met me before I even made it to the door.

I tamped down the thoughts that I was slacking on the job, reminding myself that it was Renzo himself who took me off my usual duties, and put me on this new gig.

Watching the Bratva.

The Russian mafia.

We needed to know what they were up to.

Because all signs pointed to them trying to make moves to take over Brooklyn. Which was our territory. Always had been, always would be.

So long as I didn’t fuck up my job.

I’d like to say that the pressure wasn’t getting to me. Problem is, that’d be a lie. I was having trouble sleeping, worrying that I was missing something, that my organization would suffer because of it.

“Hey!” a group of men greeted me as soon as I moved inside. “Where you been?” they asked, welcoming me into their circle.

But I still felt on the outs, not having caught up with any of them for weeks at this point.

“Heya, Saff,” I said when I saw a flash of blue hair in my peripheral vision as I stood at the bar waiting for Dav to pour me a drink.

“How goes stalking the Russians?” she asked, turning to give me her full attention.

Saff was short and slight with one of those delicate heart-shaped faces that made her look younger and more fragile than she was.

Fragile like a bomb, maybe.

She had her long blue hair pulled up into a mercilessly high ponytail that made her light brown eyes pop.

“They go to the massage parlors, to their restaurant, and home. That’s it.”

“And none of those places are penetrable,” Saff said, nodding. “Do you need someone in a too-tight dress to schmooze them and plant a bug somewhere?” she asked, waving a hand down her body.

That was an advantage to an organization that allowed for female capos. If you ever needed to run some sort of sweetheart scam or use them as a honeypot, you could.

The thing was, I could never bring myself to use them. Especially not Saff. She was too young, reminded me too much of a little sister figure. The idea of putting her in the path of an organization who seemed to specialize in forced sex work or sextortion made my stomach twist.

Even if, by all accounts, Saff was as tough as they came. Second only, maybe, to Cinna. Who likely had that reputation based on seniority.

“I appreciate the offer,” I said, taking my glass from Dav.

“But you’re not going to take me up on it because you’re afraid they might bruise my pretty little girly face,” Saff said, a bitter bite to her words.

“I don’t want anyone on the inside right now,” I insisted.

I mean, if I did, I could have had one of the men act as a john and go into one of the massage parlors. Find somewhere to place a bug. Then get a convenient phone call from their “wife” saying she tracked them there, and she was going to a lawyer or some shit like that.

I didn’t want any of us to get caught snooping right now. There was no way for me to know if they had watched us the way I was currently watching them, if they had files on us like I was compiling on them.

It wasn’t safe to go in.

The problem was, given their insane level of security, it also wasn’t safe to just take them out.

“El,” Renzo said, coming over, clapping a hand on my back twice as he moved in at my side. “Didn’t think you were going to make it.”

“I was following someone that was heading away from the usual haunts.”

“Any luck?”

“He’s fucking around on his wife,” I said, shrugging.

“Can we use her?” Renzo asked.

“Single mom,” I said, shaking my head. “Too much the Bratva can use against her if they get suspicious.”

Renzo nodded at that.

Maybe there was a time, when he was young and impatient, that he would have taken that risk. These days, though, he knew there were other ways, and we had the patience to wait to figure it out.

“Was his car empty while he was fucking his mistress?” Saff asked.

“No. These guys never travel alone. There’s always someone watching the cars, watching the doors. Even the wives and kids have small crews on them. Low and high level guys.”

“Paranoid,” Dav said.

“More like aware they are taking on the Five Families, and are being proactive,” Renzo said.

“Maybe they don’t know,” Saff suggested.

“Know what?” Renzo asked.

“Know that we have an alliance with the other families now?” Saff said. “It is still new.”

“It’s possible,” Renzo said, nodding. “Unless they have a file on all the Costas. They would know Lore is one of them, and that she’s married to me now.”

And then, it happened.

Everyone looked to me, expecting answers from me.

And I didn’t have shit to give them.

“Any news on that Russian guy who got pulled in on trafficking charges?”

“Still locked up. But from what I can tell, he’s someone important to the organization, so I imagine they are working on some way to get him out.”

“That’s why they are flirting with cops and politicians,” Saff concluded.

“Seems like it,” I agreed.

“And I’m sure Elian is all over that shit,” Cinna said, appearing out of nowhere to move next to Dav, who instinctively put an arm around her.

Not gonna lie, it was still weird as fuck to see them together after so many years of their little dance. But they looked happy together so I was happy for them.

I gave Cinna a nod, my eyes full of the gratitude I was feeling for having her support.

“On a real note,” Renzo said, leading me away from the group and toward his office, “you look like shit, El. This job is important, but you gotta sleep.”

“Really?” I asked, smirking. “This? Coming from you? Up until you settled down, you were pulling sixteen-hour days for over a decade.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed. “But you got a family. Make sure you’ve got time for them. Or my ass is gonna have them at my doorstep pitching a fucking fit about overworking you,” he said, giving me a smile before walking off.

“He’s right, you know,” a voice said, making me jerk and turn to find Lore, Renzo’s wife, curled up on the couch in the office, cuddled under a blanket, with a massive book open on her lap.

Lore, as much as she’d gotten used to being around the family since she came to live here, still preferred books to people a lot of the time.

“Hey, Mrs. Lombardi,” I said, smiling at the way she rolled her eyes at the title. “How you been?”

“Good. I miss seeing you every day,” she admitted. When she’d first come here, finding herself isolated and unsure of herself, I’d been her first friend. Once she and Renzo sorted shit out, I figured she wouldn’t miss me much. Clearly, that wasn’t the case.

“Miss seeing you too. Rather spend my time grabbing you coffee or following you to bookstores than sitting in a car watching a bunch of men carry on with their lives.”

“Why don’t you have one of your men help you out?” she asked.

The answer was simple on that. I didn’t really have a lot of men. My main priority for years had been working for Renzo, even if I was, technically, a capo.

I had a few men and they did little jobs here and there, enough to keep some money coming in, to provide a kick-up to the boss.

But because my crew was so small, I really couldn’t afford to move anyone around right now. And it would hurt my pride a little too much to ask one of the other capos to borrow one of their people.

“Renzo wants my eyes on this,” I told Lore.

“I’m sure he doesn’t mean that your eyes should be on it twenty-four/seven,” she reasoned. “You need to have some downtime too. Promise me you’ll go see your family this week.”

“I promise,” I told her, knowing she was right. I’d already skipped out on several family dinners. And while everyone understood that work was important, I knew they must be missing me.

“Good. Now, go, so I can figure out who is trying to poison the queen,” she said, flashing her book at me, dragging the first real smile out of me in what felt like weeks.

I made my rounds for a little while longer, grabbing some cold pasta and meatballs, then made my way back out so I could grab a few winks before I got up to keep up my vigil.

It was a daily struggle to try to figure out which member of the organization to follow. I’d chosen to go with one of the enforcers for a change, deciding that the bosses had gotten enough of my attention, and maybe I was doing myself a disservice by only focusing on the higher-ups in the organization.

They drove out of their usual neighborhood, taking off to a much nicer area full of high-rise business buildings, all gleaming glass and smart-looking people walking around in suits and expensive jewelry.

If I was remembering correctly, this area was in one of the other capos’ turf, selling cocaine to the few handfuls of people who could afford that shit.

Most of us never had any reason to be in this area.

Which made me wonder what the fuck a Bratva enforcer was doing around here, hanging in their car like they were waiting for someone.

But they hadn’t moved in hours.

I was parked in the opposite direction, a few cars back, looking like I was reading a newspaper and possibly waiting to escort my boss to their next meeting. I wasn’t the only one, so I didn’t seem to stand out to them.

I was thankful for my good optical genes, and the fact that the sun was hidden behind moody clouds, as I sat there, being able to see in their windshield, seeing what they were doing.

Which was watching the building just a few yards ahead of me.

They were waiting for someone.

But who?

And why?

My gaze shifted to the building, wondering what kind of businesses could be found inside. I was about to reach for my phone to figure that out when I saw the door push open, and a woman moved outside, a phone pressed to her ear.

Whoever she was talking to was clearly chewing her out, judging by the way she was running a hand through her wavy blonde hair, how her head was tipped back, looking at the sky, and only managing to seem to squeeze in one-word answers here and there.

She was gorgeous, tall and long-legged, wearing a pair of high-waisted dress shorts in a khaki color and a white ribbed tank top, looking effortlessly put together but also comfortable. On her feet, she had a pair of tan leather pointed flat shoes with gold buckles. A giant matching bag was hoisted up on her shoulder.

Half of her face was hidden by giant black sunglasses, but I made out a square jaw and a small, straight nose.

I had this oddly strong urge to go out there and remove the sunglasses, so I could see her whole face.

She turned back toward the door, like she was about to go back in, so my gaze slid back to the Russians.

And found they’d rolled down the window.

And they were looking at the building intently as the driver shuffled with something in his lap.

I looked back, finding the woman decided against going back in. She had her phone held to her ear still, but she was starting to move away from the building.

My gaze cut back to the enforcer.

Finding him zeroed in on the woman as he turned in his seat.

There was no reason to assume the worst.

Maybe he just thought she was pretty, wanted to watch her walk away.

Or perhaps he even needed to snap some pictures of her for his boss.

But the hairs were standing up on the back of my neck, every instinct in my body telling me something was about to go horribly wrong.

My hand went to the gear shift without me realizing the thought even crossed my mind, shifting into reverse as I checked my mirrors.

Traffic was light as I slowly inched my way out of my parking spot. I was in the road finally when my gaze slid back to the enforcer.

It wasn’t a camera that I saw peeking out of the window.

No.

That was a gun.

I pushed the pedal down, but he was already squeezing off shots.

Screams erupted on the streets as I gunned it forward, watching the woman drop her phone, her body frozen, confused. Or in shock.

Cutting off the path of the bullets with my vehicle, I leaned over my center console and threw open the passenger door as a bullet dinged into the trunk of my car.

“Get in!” I yelled.

Her fight-or-flight instinct finally seemed to kick in, making her run toward my car, throwing herself in.

I was tearing off before she even closed her door, pulling down the closest cross street, then another, trying to get as far away from the Bratva as possible if they were going to follow.

It wasn’t until I was stuck at a red light that I finally looked over.

To find her hyperventilating.

With blood dripping down her arm.