Merciless Vows by Faith Summers

44

Lucca

“The undisclosed recipient Raphael is working for is a man called Tobias Rivera.”

The moment that name is dropped, Aiden and I exchange glances and straighten right up.

The I.P location in Campania in Italy and the secrecy makes sense now. As well as my assumption of Raphael pursuing something bigger than the role he plays in the Bratva.

“Tobias Rivera, one of the leaders in the Camorra,” I state, and Eduardo nods.

This is not going to be good, and it’s not going to be simple either.

“We all worked for him in some way. Raphael uses the Mendes Cartel to traffic organs on the black market and to kill anybody who gets in his way. Unlike any other cartel, the men who are members are comparable to men like the two of you. Pablo Mendes is the leader. He's my cousin and the man who betrayed me. But we won’t go into that story. I’m sure you can see for yourself how that ended.” He drags in a breath. “The Cartel are the foot soldiers who carry out work in all shapes and forms for Raphael while he proves his worth to Tobias. All these long years, you people think he’s served you, he hasn’t. He’s been using the Bratva to climb the ladder. His goal is to get a seat on the Camorra Syndicate.”

Yes, it fucking does make sense now.

The Camorra is an Italian Mafia-type organization based in Campania. They are divided into clans and small as a group for a reason. People think small means they're not a threat, but I know different. They have strength in alliances with powerful groups like the Sicilian mafia, cartels, and the Triads.

Most of all, they keep their membership small so they can benefit from the shared wealth and resources. When last I checked, I didn't think Raphael qualified because of his deep ties with the Bratva, and his wealth comes from his wife's side of the family. But Eduardo said Camorra Syndicate. That sounds like something a little different from what I know about.

"Camorra Syndicate?" I ask.

"The heads of the four richest clans came together and formed it decades ago. It's more like a secret society. Tobias is the head. And they're worth billions. To get a membership seat, you need to have political influence, a strong business to bring continuous wealth to the table, and alliances of your own to contribute to their growth. So Raphael needed three things to get his place, and he didn’t care how long it took him because the benefit outweighed the waiting."

“Why doesn’t Raphael have his membership yet?” I would have thought he could tick every box.

“Because you just screwed with the last piece of the puzzle by marrying his daughter.”

Our eyes lock. “What do you mean?”

“Cervantes. I'm aware of the status of ownership and why you married Aria De Marchi. Cervantes is the last thing Raphael needs to get to secure his seat. Ownership of a company that started mining uranium in Namibia five years ago. That is what Tobias wants, and until Raphael has that, he's not getting his membership. I fear you really don’t know what you hold in your hands, Merciless.”

“It would appear so.” Jesus Christ.

“He keeps that information guarded from Aria’s family. His liaison with the board and the board itself are the only people who know core details. And let’s face it, he would have kept the family in line all the years he was married to Teresa. Keep them happy with what they think is a good salary, and they won’t ask questions. And since they know nothing about how to run a mining company, they’re fine with him taking the lead.”

“His wife transferred the company to her daughter. Do you know why?”

“I think I might, but it’s an assumption. That woman loved him, but I suspect maybe she found out a few things about the good governor she didn’t like. He had an affair with his secretary, and I think she found out. I also think she found out about his dirty dealings.”

I study what I can see of his face. “You really do know a lot, Eduardo. How?”

“I worked for him for over twenty-five years. Even though I was stationed in Mexico, I helped set up a lot of his deals and hooked him up with many people he still works with today. There’s a reason why the feds came to me and not the others. It wasn’t because I was a way in. It was because of who I was. I knew more than most, and I was always aware of Raphael’s plans to get in with the Camorra .”

“He’s still going to find a way to get the business isn’t he?”

“He’s doing that as we speak.” He drags in that rattled breath again. “To get what he wants, he needs his title as governor, the organ trade, and Cervantes. Over the years, anything or anyone that stopped him from getting either of those, he eliminated them. That’s what he will do to you. He’ll try to take his daughter back, and after her birthday, he’ll try to get the company.”

My blood heats. “Do you have any idea what he’s planning?” The asshole would have to try and kill me first.

Eduardo shakes his head. “No. But I can be sure of something brewing. That’s what he always does when someone gets in the way.”

As he speaks, something pulls on my nerves, and I think of Timothy and his family. Is that what happened to them?

Did Timothy get in Raphael's way?

“Eduardo, my friend Timothy was tortured and killed. I think he found out something Raphael wanted to keep quiet. Raphael killed him and his family. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” How cruel fate would be if I’m sitting here talking to one of the men who killed my best friend.

“I don’t, but this might help.” He pulls a small chip from his pocket and slides it across the table.

I pick it up and inspect it. “What is this?”

“The bonus for your money. Raphael has everything important set up on a secured portal you have to log into. That way, it's harder for him to be tracked or hacked. It's like a hub where he stores and shares information with those he works with. I have a friend who got me in. I copied all the files from his system that should be useful to you. That chip has everything listed on file about Raphael’s organ trafficking dealings and his contracts with Marcus and Tobias. You’ll also find a hit list. The hits on the green file are the regular kind he might have just wanted out of the way. However, the deaths on the red file, were part of a bigger dirty secret not even I was privy to. So, if your friend is there, that’s why he died.”

“Haven’t you looked on there?” I narrow my eyes, finding it hard to believe.

“No. I never look at names.” He shakes his head. “I never got involved in hits either because Raphael always orders his men to kill everybody linked to that person. Like what they did to me. That is the extent of his cruelty. We work in codes; green and red. That’s it for me, and I pulled the files as such. I never want to know names.”

God. I glance at Aiden.

My fucking mind is rattled. Fuck! Why do I have a feeling Timothy’s name is on that red list? I’m never usually wrong.

If he is on that red list, then he and his family died for a fucking secret.

Now I’m eager to get back home to see if his name is on the chip.

“This secret, I know you don’t know what it is, but do you know anything at all in regard to who or what it was about?”

“It's about Raphael’s mistress, who no one can find. She was his secretary at the government office. Fifteen years ago, she found out something big and tried to leak it. My guess is the secret would have affected Raphael's political career. Take that away, and everything falls apart.” He straightens up. “Like with me, he killed her family and everybody she knew. She managed to escape him. He’s still looking for her to finish her off. The people on the red list either found out what the secret was from her, or they did so by accident. Find her, and you get your answer, but like me, she’s off-grid.”

“What’s her name?” Aiden asks.

“Gina Delatorre.”

“Do you have anything else?”

“That’s all I got, men.”

It’s a lot. He gave us much to work with, but I have a feeling we’ve just touched the surface of the shit.

“Thanks for your help,” I tell him.

Aiden stands. “Your money will be deposited in your account within the hour. We were never here, and you are dead to us. We don’t know shit, and neither do you.”

Eduardo dips his head for a respectful bow. “Gracias.”

“De nada,” Aiden replies, telling him he’s welcome in Spanish.

“I will remain dead in Morocco if you need me. That million is to buy my way there to start afresh. Of course, if you need me again, the price will be the same.”

“Let’s hope we don’t need you.”

I don’t want to need him. It’s time for this saga to end.

As we walk away, my limbs feel heavy.

“Do you need me to take a look at that chip with you?” Aiden asks.

“No. I got it from here.”

“Are you going to search for this woman if Timothy is on that red list?”

“You bet I am. If he is, I want to know what the secret was. If he’s not, then this is enough. Vengeance will be done. Either way, I will meet with Grigori tomorrow morning with details of all Raphael’s crimes.”

“I’ll have Gibbs on standby.”

“My thanks to you, my friend.”

“No worries. Call me when you look at it.”

“I will.”

I glance at the chip in my hands, and it feels ominous. Nothing ever feels that way to me. Maybe it’s because I can admit I underestimated Raphael.

* * *

I call Jon on the way back home to fill him in.

I told him everything. His voice broke when I explained what might have happened to Timothy and this secret regarding Gina Delatorre. I don’t want to know what Damien will be like when I speak to him.

I’ll go and see him later after I look at the list. The same way I need to see Grigori face to face, the same way I need to see Damien.

When I get back, I’m thankful Marylin and Aria aren’t around. I don’t know if they’ve gone shopping or if they’re in the courtyard. It’s nearly dinner time, so I presume I’ll see both soon.

Until then, I’ll be in my office looking at what's on this chip.

I slip the chip into my computer and lean forward onto my desk as rows of file folders come up on my screen.

It looks like Eduardo arranged everything so I could access what I wanted with ease. He’s labeled each folder helpfully too. But what I want is that hit list.

I click on the folder labeled as such, and inside are two excel documents labeled green and red.

Curiosity makes me click the red document first. When it opens, my stomach knots when I see there must be well over a hundred names on here.

Unlike Eduardo, I will have to look at names to get what I want and to know what to do next.

I start scrolling down the list, and everything inside me stops and freezes when my eyes land on the name Lucian Dyshekov.

Lucian Dyshekov, my father?

No.

It can’t be.

My heart seizes in anguish, and that sickening, tormenting feeling of helplessness wracks my being.

I cast my mind back to that day. I would never have suspected Raphael because I saw him pick Aria up from her music class. I watched them drive away from the compound before I headed home on my bicycle.

But that didn't mean anything. Not when he had his men who could carry out his orders.

I hover the mouse over my father's name. When it highlights in blue, I click on the link and see details of the address I’m currently sitting in, along with the instructions to find out what Lucian knows and kill everybody on site.

Everybody on site?

My family.

My family and all the staff on the premises died that day, including Marylin’s husband.

Raphael killed them. Him. He did it.

The knowledge twists and turns like a knife inside me, shredding my organs to pieces.

I thought my soul died that day when I looked at my baby brother dead on the ground. I didn’t realize that it hadn’t died yet. But it did just now.

Maybe my soul was keeping me going until I got the name of who was responsible for my family’s deaths.

Raphael De Marchi.

That motherfucking bastard. When I knew he was responsible for killing Timothy and his family, I wanted to kill him then. Damien managed to talk me into this long, drawn-out saga of revenge to sever Raphael’s’ ties to the Bratva and destroy him.

This is different. This is my blood, my family, and my chance to avenge them.

I will do exactly what he did to me. Kill everyone he holds precious.

One more thing, though, to tick the box. I click out of my father’s name and search down the list. Sure enough, there is Timothy’s name.

That’s it. Raphael dies tonight. I will skin him alive, burn the flesh off his body, then slit his throat before I shoot him in his head. Him first, family next.

I reach for my guns.

“Lucca,” Aria's voice cuts into the fog of hatred covering my mind. The dulcet tone of her voice sounds so faint, like she’s far, far away, but she’s right in front of me.

My wife stands in front of me wearing a red summer dress with her raven hair cascading down her bare shoulders.

In her hand is a single red rose. A rose from my mother’s garden in the hands of the devil’s daughter--my wife. I made her so so that she could belong to me.

Aria Dyshekov.

I gave her my name.

This has to be irony at its finest. A cruel joke the universe thought it would play on me. Or maybe it's death's way of screwing with me because it wants me to kill the one person I've tried so hard to protect.

Her father killed mine. Her father, who thought of me as scum, killed my family. He took everything away from me. Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, he killed Timothy and his family too.

They all died for the same fucking reason.

Like some magical force has me under its spell, I get up and tighten my grip around my gun.

“Lucca, are you okay?” she stutters, glancing at the gun.

“Why do you have that rose, Aria De Marchi?” I grate out.

She’ll know from me calling her that, that I’m far from okay.

“Marylin and I were picking roses for the living room. I kept this one.”

I stalk toward her, my gun close.

She stands there trying to figure me out, but the fear in her eyes suggests she knows she has reason to be afraid of me.

When I get to her, I grab the rose. Her lips part, and her eyes grow wider as I crush it in my hand, the thorns piercing my palms.

She steps back when I growl, and her breathing picks up. I open my hand and look at the blood mingling with the crushed thorns and petals.

They fall to the ground, and she watches, but I’m looking at her--the devil’s daughter—the thing he holds precious.

“What’s the matter with you?” Her eyes dart back to mine.

“You thought you would keep a rose from my mother’s garden?” I challenge. “My mother, who your father had raped and killed.”

Shock drains the blood from her face. “What? No, Lucca. What are you saying to me?”

“Your father killed my family. It was him.”

“No, Lucca, there must be a mistake.”

I’m so sick of her doing that–questioning me when it comes to him.

This time I see red and rush closer to her, shoving her into the wall. She shrieks and winces when I cup her face.

“Mistake? My father was hung with his eyes gouged out. His body had so much blood on it I didn’t recognize him. My mother and older sister were raped before the people your father sent to kill them shot them in the head.” My voice keeps rising, and tears stream down her cheeks. “My little sister and my baby brother got a bullet to the head because they were kids. Babies, Aria! My brother was six months old. When I think about the vile way they all died, I feel like I should have known it was him. Now I have proof. So no, I’m not mistaken. The only fucking mistake I seem to keep making is you.”

She holds my gaze, her eyes pleading with me not to hurt her. “I’m sorry, Lucca.”

It’s too late for sorrow. “He has to pay for what he did. Someone needs to take everything from him. His life and what he loves most.”

She starts crying harder because we both know there’s only one thing we know her father loves—Her.

“Please don’t kill me,” she begs. “Please, not this way. Not you. Anyone besides you.”

“Why?”

“You're my Peter,” she rasps, and hearing that name snaps something inside me that remembers who she is to me.

She's the girl I couldn't take my eyes off when I first saw her.

Who falls in love at eight years old?

I couldn't leave her alone even when I knew whose daughter she was.

She's the girl I watched for years and shied away from because I was scum. I thought of every way I could find to speak to her.

In the end, our music brought us together.

I stare at her, and I remember those years. Then I remember three years ago when I was supposed to kill her. I had a clear shot, and I couldn’t take it.

I saw her, and I remembered the way we used to be. A hundred years could have passed, and I couldn’t forget.

It’s the same fucking thing now.

I keep saying I can’t love, and this was business. When all the while, I knew how I always felt about her.

I’m the fool again. I couldn’t kill her then, and I can’t kill her now.

Back then, when I realized my loyalties were torn, I would have moved the heavens to find a way to keep her safe from Damien and me.

Why? Because there’s only one thing in my life I love, and it’s her.

I release her, and she presses into the wall, still terrified of me.

She glances at the gun in my hand then her gaze climbs back up to meet mine.

“Get away from me,” I mutter, but she doesn’t move. “Go.”

She moves now, practically fleeing from me. I throw a fist into the wall, punching right through the wallpaper.

“Fuck!” Fucking hell.

I look at the gun and shake my head free of love.

I can’t have it in my heart for what I’m about to do next.

Tonight, I’m going to bring Damien Raphael’s head in a bag.