Chapter 18

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Vincenzo

VINCENZO ROSSETTI STOOD at the lone window in his office, watching the sun fade into trees behind his compound. Lately, it seemed like the days were running into each other, and the nights had been no different. Violence permeated the streets, seeping into businesses and homes of not only the dueling families, but also anyone associated with either.

This wasn’t the life he’d wanted. Long ago, the dream had been to build an empire his family could be proud of, with power no one in the city could deny. But the Fiores had tainted it, the same way they did everything they touched.

He could feel it, the way things were building to an unavoidable head. It was time to make his final move. It would be dangerous, but it was a risk he had to take before they burned the city he loved to the ground.

His thoughts turned to Dom, as they so often did, especially these last few weeks. The burden he’d placed on his son was too much, he knew that, but what choice did he have? Dom was his only heir, and while his priority had been to keep his son safe, putting him in charge of Luca had done just the opposite. The long-lost Fiore had somehow managed to weasel his way into Dom’s good graces, whether that was through pity or his undeniable good looks, and Dom had disobeyed a direct order.

As furious as he was about that, Vincenzo couldn’t help but wonder where Dom was. If he was all right. If—

A heavy knock on the door shook him out of his thoughts.

“Come in,” he called out, glancing over his shoulder to see Chef walk inside.

“Hi, boss. Got a minute?”

“I have several.” Vincenzo sat down in the wide leather chair at his desk and motioned for Chef to join him. He noticed the bandage wrapped around Chef’s forearm, along with the cut on his cheek, and frowned. “What happened?”

Chef stretched his legs out in front of him and glanced down at his arm before shrugging. “Eh, a scratch.”

“You let someone get a swipe at you? I’m surprised.”

A mischievous grin lit up Chef’s face. “I might’ve dared them. Got the blood flowing.”

Vincenzo chuckled and shook his head. “Adding a little spice to your life, huh?”

“Guess you could say that.”

Vincenzo nodded as he stared at his son’s longtime friend, a man he almost considered one of his own. He knew Chef would do anything that was asked of him—legal or otherwise—and would die before giving up any kind of information. That was why Chef was the only person on the planet right now who knew the whereabouts of Dom.

“I assume you’re here with an update?”

Chef brought his ankle up to rest it on his knee. “Well, as much of an update as I can give.”

Vincenzo grunted, hating that he couldn’t ask for specifics. But if he wanted to Dom to live to see another day, this was the way it had to be.

“Did he get out safe?”

Chef gave a slow nod. “He did, yes. No injuries to report.”

“That’s a miracle, considering the carnage the two of you left behind.”

“Actually, that’s a direct result of, well, what we left behind. If we hadn’t disposed of the threats, Dom would have definitely gotten some kind of injury.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Vincenzo got to his feet and began pacing the room. “If Dom hadn’t gone in the first place he wouldn’t have been injured either.”

Chef cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “Yes, well, you know Dom. Once he’s made his mind up about something, it’s pretty hard to change it.”

Vincenzo stopped at the large window and stared out at the property surrounding his compound. Damn Dom for taking such a risk with his life. He knew if a Fiore set foot on this property there would be hell to pay. The only saving grace for his son was the fact that he was smarter than any of Fiore’s lackeys, and Dom and Chef’s thirst for vengeance and destruction outmatched anyone Vincenzo had ever met.

“And he’s made his mind up about the kid?”

When silence met his ears, Vincenzo glanced over his shoulder to see Chef staring at the ceiling.

“Chef?”

“Huh? What?” Chef brought his eyes back to Vincenzo’s and feigned ignorance.

“I asked you if he’s made his mind up about the kid. I’m assuming he made it out safely too?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s fine.”

“And he’s with Dom?”

Chef took great interest in the sole of his sneaker, pretending to pick at something on the pristine white rubber.

“Chef?”

“Yes, uh, the last time I saw them, they were together.”

Vincenzo scowled, not liking that term at all, “together.” He’d had an inkling of where his son’s mind was at before shit turned sideways, but after Dom’s disobedience, that gnawing in his gut had turned to full-on consternation. It wasn’t like Dom to be so reckless. What was he thinking getting involved with that boy?

“I see.” Vincenzo crossed his arms as he thought that over, of all the possible repercussions of that choice. If Luca was, indeed, Dom’s choice. It didn’t seem likely Dom would’ve put himself in such danger for anyone he didn’t care about, which told Vincenzo he’d let things go too far.

But where was Luca’s head? As innocent as the kid seemed, he could be playing a long game, just like they were. He could lead the Fiores right to their hiding spot if that was the case.

No, Vincenzo thought. This was too risky. He wasn’t letting his son take the fall for what he’d put in motion so many years ago.

“It’s time,” Vincenzo said, turning his attention back to Chef. “We need to end this.”

Chef nodded. “I agree.”

“Fiore’s surrounded?”

“Much the same as you are. It won’t be easy to get to him.”

“No, it won’t.” Vincenzo stroked his jaw and began to pace. “A full-on attack of their compound means too many casualties on both sides. And continuing the fight in the streets puts too many civilians at risk.”

“What if we could get Fiore alone?”

“Alone? Is that possible?”

“Maybe. He rarely leaves his home, but I’ve got it on good authority he comes into the city once a month.”

“He does? Why?”

“Seems to be some kind of medical procedure.”

“Every month?”

“Like clockwork.”

“You think you could get him alone?”

A brazen smile crossed Chef’s lips. “Is the Pope Catholic?”

Vincenzo smirked. “Let’s leave him out of this.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best. I doubt I’d get his blessing for my…methods of persuasion.”

“Well, you get mine.”

Chef got to his feet and smoothed his hands down his jeans. “So, go forth?”

Vincenzo nodded. “I want Fiore. Get me a face-to-face.”

“You got it, boss.” Chef left, no doubt already devising a way to execute the plan. Vincenzo went back to his place by the window. It wasn’t often he was present for the kind of ending he had in mind for Fiore, but after everything that bastard had taken from him, there was no way he was delegating this to someone else.

No, when it finally came time for Fiore to meet his maker, Vincenzo was going to be the one to send him on his way.