Page 90 of Demon's Angel

“Anything?”

Rusty has his high-strength binoculars trained on the building in front of us. Without taking his eyes away from his target, he shakes his head. “Fucking curtains are pulled, Prez, on the upstairs windows. Can see men inside moving around. Hard to tell how many. Half-a-dozen, probably more. But no woman.”

Then the don comes alongside. He points me to the limousine he presumably arrived in. “We drive up. It will be expected.”

Angel will have warning. A buzz of nervousness settles inside me. All this hangs on Lucio being right, and that he’ll be greeted enthusiastically and not killed on sight. For a second I appreciate how brave he is to take the chance and not send another man in his place, but then realise he’ll be losing a son today, hell, has lost him already. He doesn’t have much left.

It’s not that much different to being prez of an MC. If the positions were reversed, there’d be no doubt I’d walk inside ahead of my men. Much like Red and Drummer being here with me today, Snatcher would have come along as well, had he not taken such a bang to his head. We’d never ask our men to do anything we wouldn’t.

Six men, including myself and Lucio, get into the limousine, two up front. Another five squeeze into the second car. The atmosphere in the limo could be cut with a knife, no one speaking as we drive up. Not a muscle twitches, but no one can deny there’s a chance both cars could be riddled with bullets even before the brake is applied.

The car’s engines have summoned life. I see bodies in both front windows, and the front door opens. Angel is not in sight, but three of his men step out. They are all carrying rifles which point toward us.

Brave man that he is, with a deep breath, a handkerchief appears to wipe sweat off his brow, then Lucio tucks it back into his pocket, nods at us, opens the door, and is the first out. Split seconds later, the limousine empties, and he’s surrounded by his men.CaposFabbri and Salvaggi are with him.

I hang back, but close enough to see jaws dropping. One man falls to the ground, his hands over his head. When he looks up, his eyes are glistening. His mouth works, but he seems incapable of speech.

“We heard you were dead,” another says.

“You did?” Lucio sounds surprised. He holds his arms out to his sides. “As you can see, I am not.” He takes a decisive step forward; as he passes, he rests his hand momentarily on the kneeling man’s head. “I am here to meet with Angelino.”

As he’s been speaking, we’ve closed the gap to the door. I let out a breath as I see rifles being slung back over shoulders. I’d rather see them disarmed, but that will have to wait. Lucio steps inside unimpeded, we crowd in behind him. Out of the corner of my eye I see Lucio’s men using the confusion to subtlety herd those that had been here with Angel together and surround them.

“CapoFerri,” Lucio raises his chin toward the man who had first spoken. “Where isCapoSanna?”

While I want to scream ‘Where is Angelino?’,I appreciate the don’s concern. We don’t want to be surprised by another captain and his men.

Ferri shifts awkwardly.

“I asked you a question,” Lucio insists. Then, when he gets a mumbled reply, he asks for it to be repeated.

“Angelino said he was a traitor. He’s dead.”

Beside me, Lucio stiffens. I take it that’s how Angelino deals with a man who won’t go along with his plans. “And where is my son?” the don asks.

Thecapo’seyes flick to the stairs. At that moment, I hear a woman’s scream. It’s Violet.

Lucio’s arm shoots out and holds me back as thecaposays nervously, with another glance upward, “I’ll go get him.”

“No worries. I’ll find him.” Lucio looks around, nodding at Salvaggi and another man, and finally, with no emphasis, at me.

The men who’d already been here seem lost and confused as Lucio leads the way casually to the stairs. They’re awed in the presence of their don, who is miraculously alive, but must sense this isn’t the way things were supposed to play out. I can’t forget they know very well what they are doing here, that in that room above, Angel is hurting a woman who’s not here out of choice.

Or is it all in a day’s work for the Mafia?I can’t rule that out.

With my back decidedly itching, I follow Lucio up the stairs. There are only a couple of rooms here, one with the door shut, sounds of protest and a struggle the other side of it. I brace myself to kick it in.

Lucio turns the handle. It opens.

I don’t hesitate. My woman is pressed down over the couch, her dress hoisted up, her legs naked. Angel is leaning over her… I tear him away. My fist to his face, then his stomach, then, almost in the same action I turn and pull Violet’s dress down, not wanting her bared ass shown to these men. Seeing Angel’s being dealt with, I’m now the one crowding her, leaning over her, letting her feel the warmth of my body, and soothing her fast.

“It’s me, Vi. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” Gently, not knowing whether she’s hurt or how badly, I put my arms around her to pull her up straight.

Instead of relaxing, she tenses up further.Christ. What has that bastard done to her? Was I too late?

“Theo…” As she stammers his name out, I reassure her. “He’s fine. He’s back at the compound…”

“Angelino’s men are going to attack. They’re going to blow it up. He’s already arranged it, D, Theo…”

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