CHAPTER THREE

brAXTON

W e're in. Mia has arranged drinks with Gianna Baldassare while the Dark Kings and I plan how to get me inside the crime family.

They've declared I'm a Dark King now, which I accepted graciously, but I'm not really and that's not why I'm here.

I'm here to get Amy back.

That's all.

Once I get inside the Baldassare world, I don't want any of them involved. This is too dangerous, and they have far too much to lose now.

They have families.

So I'm going at this alone. I just won't announce that to these incredible men until I'm in.

Leave no man behind.

That's how we think as Marines.

"So," Mack says, kicking his feet up on the table and tapping a marker pen on the side of his cheek. Then glances at it to make sure the lid is on. "Fuck, every time."

I laugh as he tries to rub off the ink.

"It's a long shot. No offense." Nathan shrugs.

"None taken. I think." I stretch my arms over my head. We've been at this for hours, and while I'm racing against time, we still have one day until Mia and Gianna are meeting.

"Maybe get a facial." Decker smirks.

"You don't think I can pull a chick with all of this?" I lift my t-shirt and glance down at my tanned, ripped abs.

"Put it away. I'm more concerned about your ugly mug." He laughs. "Shave, at the very fucking least."

We both know I'm not ugly, but the banter is keeping me calm.

I chuckle and then turn back to the whiteboard where we've laid out a plan. It's slim on details and, as Nathan pointed out, it's a long shot.

Basically, I'm going to bump into them at drinks and charm the pants off Gianna. Hopefully, enough that she wants to see me again.

Then again.

And again, until I'm inside the Baldassare mansion.

Like I say, short on details and a damn long shot.

I'll shave. Decker has a point.

Connor walks into the room and drops a passport and driver's license in my lap. "Braxton Rossi."

My surname is Ashford.

"We all stuck with our first names. Makes it a little easier, but it's a mind fuck after a few years," Nathan says. "Hopefully it won't take that long."

"She doesn't have years." Decker says the one thing we've all not yet voiced.

The room goes quiet.

"There are organizations—" Connor starts, but I shake my head.

"I have to do this," I reply.

How do you explain what someone means to you? How little and vulnerable Amy was, and that it was my job to protect her. That I feel guilty for joining the Marine Corps. For not doing enough to protect her when I found out how bad things were when I saw Tracey that day.

Why hadn't she told me she was buying drugs for her mom?

I should have known when our phone calls got shorter and shorter, but I thought she was just being a normal twenty-one-year-old. I was not her cool older cousin anymore.

Shit back home is hard to handle when you're in the desert and trying to stay alive, so I had planned to reconnect when I got home.

"I get it, man," Mack says, dropping his feet. "There's little information on Gianna, so if she's not interested in you, then we'll have to go back to the drawing board to find a way to get you inside the crime family."

I'll make Gianna Baldassare interested in me.

I'll make her think I'm the man of her fucking dreams.

I lift the envelope containing my new identification and rip it open. Inside is a black credit card.

The hell?

I glance at Connor.

"Prefer if you didn't buy a private jet but do what you need to get your cousin home."

Fucking hell.

"I can't pay this back," I admit. My family is more than comfortable, and I'll never be poor, but this is way more debt than I can rack up.

Way more.

Connor crosses his arms and rests his ass on the edge of his desk. "You came to me for help. This is what we do and how we work. I have more money than any human being will ever need. How I choose to use and spend it is my business."

Wow!

The Dark Kings are doing far more for me than I ever anticipated.

In don't know what I expected but being given an expense account—a bottomless one—was definitely not part of it.

"Don't argue with him." Mack shakes his head. "Waste of time."

"Anyway, some of it is tax deductible. You're on the payroll now," Connor adds.

What?

Oh, hell no.

"No. That's not...listen guys, I just need to get inside, then that's all I need help with."

They all stare at one another for a moment, then start laughing. Like full on belly laughs.

I wasn't being funny.

I watch as Nathan stands and gets a soda from the refrigerator, then starts a game of pool. Decker walks to the board and starts writing some stuff.

I turn to Connor, who shrugs one shoulder. "Told you. That's not how this works."

––––––––

T HE NEXT EVENING, showered and shaved, I walk down Fifty-seventh Street until I find the entrance to the bar where Mia is meeting Gianna.

We went over this for hours last night. Rehearsing being Braxton Rossi instead of Braxton Ashford. I'm an independent who works alone with key partners around the world.

Super vague.

Possibly not the best strategy, but we all agreed it might be better to pivot where needed rather than go in with a solid identity that might not work.

None of us know anything about the Baldassare's except what Mia shared. Which was nothing of substance. Like all daughters, she wasn't brought into the dark side of the business.

Nathan, who worked inside the Mancini family, also didn't have a huge amount because he didn't work at a level that was privy to that information.

So, yeah, winging it.

What they did share were tips on how to survive and navigate challenges while being undercover.

Unlike then, this is not a long-term plan. If Amy is still alive, I need to find out where she was taken and move fast.

"I figure the authorities are looking for her?" Connor asked me last night.

"They are now that I phoned them, but her mother is not helping. Plus, you know as well as I do the authorities don't have the resources to help. Not in a situation like this. Amy is just another woman plucked off the street and put into human slavery."

Decker cursed. "No matter how many we help, there will always be a million fucking more."

I felt the same about war. None of it made any sense. Every person that fell because of my bullet, I knew he was only there fighting to stay alive on behalf of some fucking politician or ideologist.

The world is broken.

"We need to loop in Agent Scott," Connor shared. "He will have some information about the Baldassare family. We've agreed to work alongside them independently."

"I'd rather not be restricted by legalities." I frowned.

"You won't," he replied firmly, so I left them to reach out to the feds and keep me updated.

From this point onwards, my name is Braxton Rossi.

My mission starts now.