Page 93 of Above ’N’ Beyond

What a cluster. Ianetti was on the loose and was armed. With no takedown for the foreseeable future, those sim cards could still disappear. Without those recordings, they had nothing, and he hadn’t gotten around to explaining to Jenkins that Bella might remove them. He’d have to convince her not to.

When his phone vibrated again, he assumed it would be Jenkins. It wasn’t. It was a text from Bella.

Giving him her new login ID and password for the puppy cams.

No time to question her change of heart. Quickly, he logged in and tapped open the first camera. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t dare turn on the audio. Not without a court order in place. Paola and Salvatore Palumbo stood at one end of the room. On a table in front of them was a suitcase loaded with cash, a tribute to Palumbo. Paola leaned over and, in classic Hollywood Godfather-esque fashion, kissed Palumbo’s hand.

She was formally paying homage to Salvatore Palumbo and dedicating herself to the Palumbo Crime Family.

Jax growled. Shuffling came from the hallway near the restrooms. Jamie stiffened and was about to shove his phone back into his pocket when the images on the camera app stopped him.

Marco Ianetti dragged Bella into the banquet room. One of his arms was around her neck. Ianetti aimed a gun at the nearest enforcer’s head.

The blood in his veins seemed to stop pumping altogether. Then it zoomed, pounding in his ears like a battering ram. If that fucker hurts her…

So much for finding Ianetti before he got here. Once Marco outed that Bella knew Jamie was a cop and hadn’t told anyone, Paola would kill her on the spot. Then she’d kill him.

Leaving was now out of the question. Getting assistance from the skeleton crew of agents in the vicinity was also a no-go. Not only didn’t he have direct contact with them, but they were under orders not to raid the place, and they certainly wouldn’t take orders from him. For backup, there was only one recourse, and it was doubtful they could arrive in time.

Jamie pulled out his phone, then sent the dire group text he’d hoped he would never have to send.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Marco jerked Bella’s arm higher up her back. Pain shot to her shoulder as he pushed her into the banquet room, then shoved her to the floor. She landed on her hands and knees, the rough carpeting scraping her skin and drawing blood.

“Marco!” Tony shouted. “What the hell are you doing?”

Bella looked up to see three guns trained on her and Marco, whose face was covered in bruises from where Jamie had punched him. Everyone else in the room jumped to their feet.

Paola’s expression was murderous as she glared alternately from her to Marco. “What is the meaning of this?”

Salvatore Palumbo’s expression darkened as he watched with avid interest.

Marco sneered at Bella, waving the gun at her and the enforcer who’d been guarding the door. “Ask your niece. She’s been fucking a cop right under our noses.”

“What?” Paola snapped. “Put those guns away!” she ordered the goon squad, who looked ready to drill Marco through the forehead. “We can’t have any shooting in here.”

The enforcers looked to Salvatore Palumbo, not Paola. Only after Palumbo gave the men a quick nod did they return the guns to the holsters beneath their jackets.

“That means you, too,” Paola ordered Marco.

Marco shoved his gun into his waistband.

Bella got to her feet, straightening her skirt and blouse. Aside from the opera still piping from the speakers, the room was deathly quiet. She looked past her aunt to the room full of mobsters. Salvatore Palumbo watched quietly, as did everyone else.

She swallowed audibly. This wasn’t how she’d ever expected to die. In her own restaurant in front of two dozen people who wouldn’t lift a finger to help her.

“Is this true?” Paola parked her hands on her hips, impaling Bella with the sharpness of her question. “Who is this cop?”

Bella couldn’t—wouldn’t—say. Jamie had lied to her, hurt her terribly, but she refused to be the one to tell Paola who he was. Or that he was standing not forty feet away outside the Bistro’s front door. No matter what he’d done to her, she didn’t want to see him dead.

She raised her head high and took a deep breath.

“Go on, Bella,” Marco bit out. “Tell them how Tony was set up in prison. Tell them how the feds paid an inmate to pick a fight with him so Jimmy Santoro could break it up and get in good with Tony. Jimmy Santoro is an undercover cop.”

“That’s bullshit.” Tony charged over. “Jimmy’s no cop. He got shanked saving my ass. I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it.” Marco glared at Bella. “And she knew. She’s been sleeping with him, and she was there when he admitted he was a cop. I was there. And you wanna know where I’ve been? The FBI grabbed me so I wouldn’t dime out Santoro.”