Page 59 of Broken Mafia Prince
“Motherfucker,” I snarl, slapping my other hand over the wound.
There’s no time to stop the bleeding now, though. I lash out, grab the man’s wrist, and twist until he screams and drops the knife. I catch it before it can fall to the ground and be lost to me in the dark. From the corner of my eye, I see the other guy aiming his gun at me. Thinking fast, I spin around with the knife guy in tow, until he’s positioned in front of me.
The bullets rip through him, while I aim the knife and throw. It finds its way into one of the shooter’s eyes, and he drops dead. I toss the one in front of me to the ground, knowing that he’s also dead.
I rip my shirt sleeves further to examine the wound on my arm, relieved to find that it’s not terribly deep. I’ll take care of it later, but for now, I have something more important to do. I crack my fingers and head over to the man who’s still writhing in agony on the floor, cupping his groin.
I pull him up by his collar and push him up against the nearest wall. “You’re going to tell me everything I need to know, or the next few minutes will be hell for you.”
His eyes widen at the look on my face, and I see him swallow nervously. I can see him thinking of how to get out of this, and how much trouble he’ll be in if he snitches.
I pull out the pendant and hold it up to his face. “What’s this?” It’s a test question since I already know the answer.
“That’s an insignia for the Echelon Syndicate,” he reveals.
Thank fuck this one is ready to sing like a canary. “I assume this is what you were looking for?” When he nods, I go in with my next question. “Why?”
“One of the men left it behind, and we were supposed to retrieve it so there’ll be no evidence pointing to the Syndicate,” he admits. “Can you just let me go? I swear I’m not one of them. I just needed some money fast, and they were willing to pay for?—”
“Shut up,” I bite out. “I’ll let you go when you’re done answering my questions to my satisfaction. Why is the Syndicate trying to frame the Montanaris?”
His gaze shifts away from mine, and he hesitates. “I don’t know. They don’t give me inside knowledge and?—”
Impatient, I pull out my gun and press it to the junction of his legs. The man lets out a high-pitched scream, his eyes going impossibly wide.
“What the fuck, man? You can’t do that!”
I ignore him. “Why are they trying to frame the Montanaris?”
“B-because they’re trying to pit you two against each other, okay?” he stammers, sweat pouring down his face. “I don’t knowwhy they’re doing it, but they have a whole plot to get the Montanaris and the Gagliardis to go to war.”
“Who gave you the order?” I growl.
“I don’t know!” he cries. “I got some money and instructions, that was fucking it. I’ve told you what you wanted to know. Can you let me go now?”
“Of course,” I lie, pulling away.
The man lets out a breath of relief, but the next second, I raise my gun and put a bullet in the space between his eyes. I can’t believe the Syndicate is trying to cause a war of such proportion. What do they stand to gain?
I step out of the warehouse through the back passage, intent on getting out of here without running into Tommaso or any of the other men. I don’t want to have to explain what went down in there. I need some alone time to try and figure out what exactly is going on.
There’s a black Jaguar at the back, and I hazard a guess that it belongs to the men I’ve just killed. I’m sure they’ll forgive me for borrowing their car. I climb into the driver’s seat, pleased to find the car keys stuck in the ignition.
I rev the car and shoot out of the docks.
I need to tell Tommaso to wipe all the evidence against the Montanaris before my father finds out, and I need to get rid of the men’s bodies before someone links them to the Syndicate and starts mouthing off. There’s a whole lot to do if I have any hope of preventing the war that’s coming to our doorstep.
I should be thinking of the next step to take, but instead my head keeps shifting to the memory of Giulia, how her eyes narrow when she gives one of her smartass responses, how they spark when I say something she doesn’t like, and how she purses her mouth when she’s trying not to indulge me.
I turn the corner too sharply and almost skid off the road, lost in my thoughts of her.
I let out a bitter laugh when I finally get control of the car wheel. Giulia Montanari will be the death of me—that is, if I don’t die first in this shitstorm the Echelon Syndicate is brewing and sending our way.
19
GIULIA
Istare at my flushed face in the elevator’s mirrored walls and try to regulate my rapid breathing. When that fails, I start counting down from one thousand while trying my best to block out sharp blue eyes from my mind. Raffaele is the last thing I should be thinking of right now. I have more pressing issues at hand, like the fact that Luca may currently be on his way to making a full report about brunch to my father.
