Page 58
A half hour later, he pushed through the doors of the safehouse headquarters.His stride was steady, but inside, adrenaline still buzzed through his veins.
One more strike against Bianchi.One more nail in the coffin of the family empire.
And Raffe wasn’t going to stop until the whole rotten dynasty was buried.
Chapter 33
“Whatthehellareyou telling me?”Enrico roared into the burner phone, his knuckles whitening around the cheap plastic.The car swerved slightly on the Wisconsin highway as he listened, rage boiling hotter with every word.
The shipment of guns.Gone.Just disappeared.No one knew anything about the huge truck filled with rifles, pistols, machine guns and ammunition.
The Bear Creek Gang—those Montana bastards—were demanding their guns or their money back.
And both were impossible.
“We need to get back to Minneapolis,” he snarled, spittle flying as he slammed the phone shut.His chest heaved, his gut twisting with a mixture of fury and dread.
“I thought we were heading to Chicago—to take out Romano!”one of his soldiers asked timidly from the backseat.
Enrico’s head snapped around, eyes bloodshot with fury.How dare the little ass question him?“Shut your mouth and get moving!”he bellowed, punching the dashboard.“We’re going back to Minneapolis.Now!”
He didn’t offer an explanation.He couldn’t.Not out loud.Not yet.Saying it made it too real.
Half a million dollars.Gone.
He’d poured everything into that shipment.Every penny he’d squeezed out of his strip clubs, the protection rackets, the girls he pimped out, even the dwindling drug trade that was slipping through his fingers.It had all been tied up in this deal.After the Montana crew had paid, he’d planned to walk away with a nice, pretty profit.Stronger.Powerful enough to subsidize his move on Chicago.
And Romano.
That had been the plan.Stir chaos along Interstate Ninety, make Romano come out of his hole, then put a bullet in him.Chicago would be his.His territory, his soldiers, his glory.
But now?
Now the guns had vanished into thin air.The psycho Montana boys were already on the phone, spitting threats and demanding discounts like he was some second-rate street hustler.They weren’t just angry—they were insulted.And insulted men with armies of bikers and meth-head soldiers didn’t ask twice.
Enrico’s mouth went dry.
He couldn’t fund another shipment, not that size.Not when the protection money barely kept his cops and politicians paid off.Not when his strippers skimmed and his capos whispered.He was bleeding money and power, and this deal had been his lifeline.
Damn it!He slammed his fist against the door, teeth grinding.
To make this whole disaster even worse, several days ago, some freak helicopter had strafed his convoy, killing half his men before they even knew what hit them.The battle afterwards had taken out five more.Twenty soldiers he’d started with—five now remained.Five.And still, he’d told himself the profit on this arms shipment would fix everything.
But there was no profit now.No shipment.Just smoke, corpses, and the Montana gang’s fury.
Driving back to Minneapolis in defeat wasn’t just humiliating—it was dangerous.
The Bear Creek boys would come.They’d come hard.
And someone—someone—was going to pay for this betrayal.
Chapter 34
SalwatchedasCatarinastirred awake beside him.For the first time since their wedding, they’d actually slept in the same bed until morning.Normally, he was already gone—sweat-soaked in the gym, waiting for her to join him for self-defense drills.But today… today he’d let himself stay.
And it was worth it.
She stretched like a cat, then burrowed into him, her small nose brushing against the side of his neck.The warm puff of her breath lingered on his skin, and something inside him twisted.Why the hell had he denied himself this for weeks?He’d missed something—something simple, sweet, and dangerously addictive.
