Page 3 of Dangerous Command
“It’s a small load to start,” I said, handing the order to my brother. Our father, and the boss of our family’s mafia, had never seen the potential in dealing arms. But once we had destroyed Midnight Miles Corporation six months ago, I had used that time to look into Miles Muro’s business operations at a closer level. While Muro had dealt in drugs, protection, and trafficking, most of his company’s value was in weaponry. Be it guns or brainwashed soldiers, there was no doubt that it was a lucrative business, and we had the option to take over his clients. There was an unlimited potential for our family’s growth. My father didn’t see that, but I did. He may have been the boss, but he expected me to run the mafia.
“Risky,” my brother, Wil, said. This was whyIdealt with the shipments and distribution, as well as regulating the protection, and overseeing my brothers’ duties. Wil controlled the gambling hall, and Axe, our other brother, took care of enforcing. We all had our part in the business.
“And most of the force is out right now?” Wil asked.
Besides the few still on guard at our family’s house? “The ones that are on the clock.”
Axe had an appointment with his girlfriend, otherwise, he would have been there too, guiding the shipment. This was our first arms deal and first new negotiation since taking over Muro’s shipments. It was better to be cautious. We had power over Sage City, but you never knew who would try to steal a product, especially an item as valuable as weapons. Luckily, since the war with Midnight Miles Corporation was over, we had less to deal with lately.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Assuming it was my uncle, the one I left in charge of the arms shipment, I didn’t glance at the phone before answering it.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Derek?” my mother’s weak voice called from the other end. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. She never called this late, and not with that voice.
“What happened?” I asked.
The line was silent. Then she howled so loudly that I pulled the phone away from my ear. Wil’s eyes widened. My heart thudded in my chest.
Once she quieted, I said, “I’ll be there soon,” then hung up.
“She was supposed to be at the spa today, wasn’t she?” Wil asked. I stood and nodded. Our mother never cried like that. Wil knew it was an emergency too. “I’m going to find Ellie.”
“I’m heading to the Adler House now,” I said.
“Give me a call.”
At my parents’ house, my mother’s cries drifted down to the driveway. She was a quiet, subdued woman, who pretended like family’s business didn’t exist. To hear her sound like a wounded animal made my blood boil. Though the next house was some distance away from ours, the neighbors likely heard her too, like an echo haunting the neighborhood.
I followed the noise up the stairs to the master bedroom. My mother was on her knees, her face in her hands, her blond-white hair matted to her cheeks. On the bed, the comforter and sheets were disheveled, strewn with blood. A woman lay at an angle, her dark hair splayed across the bed, dashing across my father’s face. Both of their necks were cut. Giant Ms were carved into their stomachs. My chest tightened. There were his initials.
Miles Muro.
My mother, Clara, sobbed, her cries reverberating through the house. Anger swelled inside of me—not because my father was dead, but because I hadn’t killed that fucker with my bare hands. Miles Muro. My father had insisted, time and time again, to build a relationship with Muro, claiming that he could be an important business connection. Slowly, we could take over his empire.
All because my father was fucking Muro’s wife. He was afraid Muro would kill her.
And he was right. Here they were: dead.
Fuck!
I called Axe and Derek, telling them that they needed to get here immediately. Then I pulled the rest of our men that weren’t on the arms shipment to patrol the perimeter of the property, ordering them to search for the men who weresupposedto be protecting the house. Muro had to be close. We had destroyed his building and had confirmed that he was inside of it. How was he still alive?
My mother’s cries heightened. She needed sleep, but her bedroom was destroyed. Instinct told me to call Maddie again. She was—or had been—our family’s cleaner. I trusted her to get the job done and be discreet. And she was good with my mother. She was good with everyone, actually. But she had disappeared a few months ago; my calls went straight to voicemail now.
Still, I called. I had to try.
You have reached the voicemail box of—
I hung up and grabbed a blanket out of my old bedroom and placed it around my mother’s shoulders. She shook out of it. I tried again, wrapping it around her tightly this time, and she snatched it out of my hand, throwing it to the ground, then threw her arms around me. Her eyes were bloodshot, her skin blotchy.
“We need to get you into bed,” I said. “This isn’t a good place for you.”
“I can’t,” she paused, gathering the will to say it through the sobs, “I can’t leave him.”
She collapsed on the ground. What did it do to her to see her husband and his mistress dead inside of her wedding bed? She had accepted my father’s relationship with Muro’s wife. But seeing death like that, with how insulated we kept my mother, must have broken her.
I kneeled beside her. “What happened?” I asked.
