Chapter 25

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE

Vincenzo

VINCENZO STARED OUT of the darkened window of the Jaguar XJ Sentinel, focused on the medical building up ahead. Their lookout had radioed that Constantino Fiore had arrived only moments ago, keeping with the monthly routine Chef had said he went by.

This was it.

Vincenzo retrieved the thin leather gloves from inside his suit jacket and pulled them on. Two decades of pain had come down to this, and soon the healing could begin. Just one more to go.

“You sure you wanna do this, boss?” Joe stopped at the red light and met Vincenzo’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “We can take care of it for you.”

“And deny me the chance to see the light leave that coward’s eyes? You’d have to kill me first.”

“You don’t know what you’ll be walking into with him—” Gino started, but Vincenzo put his hand up.

“Just get me into the room. That’s your job. Understood?”

“Yes, boss.”

Joe pulled into the underground employee-only lot, pulled out the badge of someone on their payroll, and held it against the reader. The barrier arm went up, and as they drove into the darkness, Vincenzo kept his eyes peeled for any sign of danger—though the others, including Chef, had already taken hidden spots to keep watch.

A strange mix of anticipation and calm flowed through his veins. He was ready for this to be over. He was ready to make Fiore suffer.

Joe parked the car near the service entrance, and his brother Tony appeared out of the shadows. He was dressed in a set of scrubs, the same as the employee with him, the one they’d be using to get inside.

Vincenzo reached into the neck of his dress shirt and turned on the recording device he’d taped to his chest, then nodded at Gino. “Let’s go.”

He could feel the frustration emanating from Joe at having to stay behind, but they needed to stay under the radar, and Joe was easily the most likely to pop off.

Not a word was breathed as they headed for the stairs. From their inside information, they’d learned Fiore commandeered the same room on the third floor for all of his visits, and his security was forced to wait outside. Usually two men, they’d heard, sometimes one, with the others in the waiting room to escort him out of the main entrance on the street.

Vincenzo flexed his gloved hands, itching to reach for his weapons in the dark stairwell. He hadn’t been the one out in the streets fighting in many years, but the instinct came back all the same.

They made it to the third-floor entrance, where another scan of the badge, along with fingerprints, was necessary to get inside. The employee headed into the hallway first, and when the coast was clear, he motioned for the rest of them to join. They followed him into an exam room, and once the door shut, he turned to face them.

“This floor has adjoining doors for safety purposes. You’ll need to pass through three of the exam rooms to get where you need to go, and I’ve blocked those off from the schedule for the time being. I’ll do my best to distract his security guys away, but your best bet would be making things quick and maybe shoving something beneath the handle so no one can get in.”

“Thank you.” Vincenzo laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Your help today won’t be forgotten.”

“The Fiores have ruined this city. It’s my honor.” He handed Tony a key and then slipped out the door.

“Ready, boss?”

Vincenzo looked at the shut door ahead of them and felt a thrill skate down his spine. Only three more doors stood between him and that fat fucker Fiore.

“Ready.”

Tony gave a clipped nod then headed for the first door. It was open, just as they’d been told, and as they stepped into the empty exam room, Vincenzo gestured for Gino to wedge a chair beneath the handle. The last thing they needed was a nurse or doctor getting curious and sticking their nose where it wasn’t wanted.

Just because Fiore lived by zero principles didn’t mean Vincenzo had to, and his number one rule was, and always would be, that no innocents would be harmed by his—or his men’s—hand.

They slipped through the second door, and his adrenaline pumped as he drew one step closer to the man who had taken so much from him. He’d been waiting years for this moment, decades. Tony opened the third and final door, and Vincenzo stopped in the center of the exam room and took a moment.

Breathe, he told himself as he stared at the anatomy chart pinned to the wall, scanning the diagram as he imagined all the places he could shoot Fiore to cause maximum pain. But then he remembered the employee’s words—be quick.

“Boss?” Gino stood by the door.

Vincenzo closed his eyes and pictured his Serafina’s beautiful smile that day, and baby Giuliana’s giggle. The little blueberry-covered hands and his wife kissing his cheek before she waved goodbye—then the nightmare that followed. The loud BOOM of the explosion ripping through the markets, the devastation it left behind, and finally…the fiery shell of their car and the melted frame of Giuliana’s stroller.

A red haze of fury clouded his vision as he reached for the gun at his waist and nodded to Gino. The door was pulled open, Vincenzo slipped inside, and Gino shut the door behind him.

Vincenzo zeroed in on the recliner in the corner, an IV pole with meds hanging from it. Fiore raised his head. He struggled to get the recliner upright and his feet on the ground. But with the IV in his hand and his portly stomach in the way, he floundered and missed the lever.

Vincenzo shoved the feet of the IV pole under the recliner, then he raised his gun and aimed it at Fiore’s temple.

“Hello, old friend. You up for a little chat?”

Fiore’s cheeks reddened, his gaze darting over Vincenzo’s shoulder to the door.

Vincenzo looked in that direction and then back to his hostage. “Are you expecting someone? Because, I have to tell you, I don’t think they’re coming.”

Fiore glared up at Vincenzo.

“But perhaps you’re right.” Vincenzo straightened and grabbed hold of a chair. “We should really keep this conversation between you and me.”

He wedged the back of the chair under the door, making sure it was secure, then turned back and set his gun aside for the moment.

“This is a surprise,” Fiore said before a coughing fit began. As he struggled to catch his breath, Vincenzo narrowed his eyes.

“A surprise? Really.”

“I thought we were even.”

“Even?” Vincenzo struggled not to raise his voice. “There’s not a world that makes the murder of women and young children even to anything.”

“You killed my heirs. Two for two.”

In a flash, Vincenzo had Fiore by the throat. “You should be thanking every fucking saint that I didn’t chop every last one of you into pieces. You’re nothing but a scourge on the Earth, a dishonorable disgrace to the families who abide by the unspoken rules with integrity. Instead you cross every line, undermine every deal, and still can’t admit when you’ve been beaten.”

Vincenzo ripped his hand away, and Fiore began to wheeze and cough again.

“Look at you. It’s almost a mercy to kill you. Close to death, are you? Is that why you reached out for the son you threw away?”

“Didn’t…throw…”

“Sure you did. And can I let you in on a little secret?” Vincenzo put his hands over Fiore’s on the arms of the chair, pressing down on the hand with the IV. “Luca doesn’t want anything to do with you. Not you, not Gabriella, not the miscreants you rule. You made a big mistake with that one. Once you’re gone, everything you built will be dust. How does that feel?”

Fiore clenched his jaw, and his face flushed with rage.

“It didn’t have to be this way, you know. If you’d been civilized, if you hadn’t killed my wife and daughter, then I wouldn’t have had to take everything from you. You understand that, right? Why I deserve my revenge?”

Fiore spat in Vincenzo’s face. Still fucking trash right to the end.

Vincenzo reached for his pocket square, snapped it in the air, and wiped his face, then hit the off button on the IV. He didn’t need any alarms going off for this final task. Shooting Fiore would be too quick, too easy. Vincenzo wanted this piece of shit to suffer.

As Vincenzo fingered the long IV cord, Fiore let out a shout of desperation. Vincenzo slapped his hand against Fiore’s mouth, drowning out the sound, but it had been loud enough that he knew if anyone was standing outside the door, they’d heard it.

He shoved his pocket square in Fiore’s mouth then quickly wrapped the cord around his throat. With each wrap around, Vincenzo tightened his grip, his adrenaline kicking into high gear in Fiore’s final moments.

Fiore’s pockmarked face bulged, turning several shades of red as he choked and strained for air. His hands clawed at both Vincenzo and the cord at his neck, but it was a losing fight, and they both knew it.

Fiore tried to kick, get out of the chair, but Vincenzo had decades of youth, muscle, and vengeance on his side. He tightened his grip and held the man down, locking his eyes with Fiore’s and watching the life drain out of them. Even as a knock sounded at the door, he held firm. The knock became more insistent as Fiore’s security guard called out for his boss to answer.

But Fiore wouldn’t be answering or hurting anyone. Not ever again.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as his body went limp, but Vincenzo held on even longer, making sure the fucker was really gone. Every ounce of pain Vincenzo had endured in all the years since he lost Serafina and Giuliana came to the surface, and it wasn’t until he felt the wet slide of tears down his face that he realized he was crying.

He dropped the cord and stood over Fiore’s dead body. He’d imagined this moment so many times, and now that it was here, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

For you, he thought, picturing his family. This was for Serafina and Giuliana, but also for Dom and Caterina. For their loss. For their future. For his.

The knocking turned to pounding on the door. It was only a matter of seconds before the guard busted in, and he had to make sure there was no reviving Fiore. Vincenzo took out his gun, suppressor attached, and shot Fiore once between the eyes.

Then, without another look, he slipped out of the room the same way he’d entered.