They were gaming the Cadaveri.
I leaned back with a smirk. I’d found my poison chalice.
My weapon to fight against my enemies and their vendetta.
I pulled out my phone and called Valerio in Naples.
It was time to strike.
‘Boss?’
I glanced up from my laptop, transferring substantial cash from our European to Australian bank accounts.
I frowned, not keen on any interruption.
Mauri lurked at the door, so I guessed what he wanted to share was vital.
‘Talk to me,’ I sighed, leaning back into my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose.
‘Got something you need to see.’
His set jawline and hard eyes meant it was worth my full attention.
‘Give me a sec.’
With an inhale, I sent a swift series of commands through the online platform onscreen.
When the transfer ping of confirmation came through, I slapped my laptop closed and pushed to my feet.
‘Bene, what’s so important?’ I asked, even as a sense of unease settled in my gut.
Without a word, Mauri led me outside to the garage.
We went from the light of day to the dimness of the sprawling space.
In the centre, surrounded by the impersonal gleam of my silent vehicles, perched a figure strapped to a chair.
Raising my brow, I came to a skidding stop.
‘Fuck, is that who I think it is?’
Mauri turned to me, lifting his chin. ‘Yup, caught the idiot casing the place,’ he growled.
I huffed in disbelief at the ballsiness.
I took a step toward the captive.
Mauri reached for his weapon and extended it to me.
I shook my head. ‘Non c’è bisogno. I’ll need a softly-softly approach on this one.’
Stalking to the seated man, I circled the chair.
He raised his head and locked eyes with me.
I tagged a flare of pure hatred, followed by a spit of gob aimed at my sneakers.
With a neat sidestep, I dodged the stream and smirked.