Page 39 of Brutal Collateral

“What the hell does that mean?” Alarm bells go off in my head. “Damn you brats, what the fuck? We’ve been hunting down people forever!”

God, how could I have not asked more questions? I heardGreek Mafia princessand every stereotype crashed into my mind.

Galas. Clubs. Travel. Spoiled. Entitled. I hated her from minute one.

After all the trouble this has caused, I look forward to making her miserable.

“The target is in range,” the pilot says.

Shane pulls off a new satellite photo of the roof. “All clear.”

Dressed in black from head to toe with helmets and darkened visors, souvenirs from our last rescue mission, I give the signal to land. “Put us down on the roof, Seth.”

We went over the plan back at my new townhouse. We brought bolt cutters, a mini blow torch, ropes, knives, tiny remote cameras, and lots and lots of ammo.

We’re each strapped with two handguns, but I’m using an AK-47. I’m the fucking boss. It’s more for show, but if I’m shot at, I will fire back with a vengeance. There’s a rule, you don’t darepointa gun at a mafia don, let alone shoot at one.

We land and scramble out onto the roof. The bird immediately lifts back up and flies off to the holding location.

“The cloaking still on?” I whisper to Shane about his jamming radar signals that make the bird invisible to cops.

“It’s holding,” he answers.

“We go on my mark.” I take the lead.

Connor pushes me aside. “No.Wego first. You’re... You’re a king now, Griffin.”

I also shouldn’t be here. Only, I wasn’t going to send my brothers in to be killed. Alone. Not for this. Not to rescue a bride I don’t even want.

That would make Thanksgiving rather awkward with Ma from now on.

But he’s right. If we’re all here, I don’t go in first. I dip my chin and step back. This isn’t the time to debate attack formations.

“Smash and grab, brothers,” Connor says and pats his chest with the same outer bulletproof vest we’re all wearing.

“If the guards shoot at us, shoot back. If they surrender, we tie them up, that’s it,” I give the final order before we go in. “These brats are someone’s fucking sons who we have to rule over. Let’s not make more enemies today, gentlemen.”

My brothers each give me a thumbs-up.

Connor goes first, as I silently follow Shane down wooden steps of the abandoned apartment building. Each floor holds two units. These were our blind spots. The square footage we couldn’t see because all the windows had thick blackout shades.

Connor melts each doorknob, careful to catch it so it doesn’t hit the floor. For each apartment on each floor, we repeat this. Shane uses his heat sensors to mark each unit clear while I hang back, giving them both cover from above and below.

Floors 4 and 3 go smoothly. Nothing but empty apartments.

Floor 2 goes the same.

My throat starts tightening as we walk down the stairs to get to the main floor. They have to be there. Connor’s ground team hasn’t reported anyone coming out the front or back. They also killed the box truck’s ignition.

There’s only one floor left for a shootout against five guys including Brandon. This is going to be messy as hell. I was hoping to catch some guards sleeping in these apartments so we could tie them up and even the score.

Fuck.

The first-floor apartment, bigger than the others, is the only unit on the main level. And it’s...empty. As far as people. But it’s lived in.

“What the fuck?” I mutter to Connor, shattered that maybe his guards are hiding, waiting to blow my head off.

After a full sweep, confirming it’s empty, we stand in the hallway where Shane goes white.

---