Big Bad Wolf by Diana A. Hicks
It'll Burn Just the Same
Santino
“I can smell her perfume on you.” I turned my back to the man standing at the front entrance of my penthouse and poured myself another whiskey.
When I came home earlier, I hadn’t bothered with the lights. This time of night, the city skyline cast a shimmering glow on the marble floors, the high ornate ceilings, and the grand piano near the terrace. When he ambled toward me, he was no more than a gray shadow.
“Your security is shit.” Rex unbuttoned his coat jacket.
“If you were anyone else, you’d be dead by now.” I took a long swig from my tumbler.
As the sitting king of a hundred-year-old secret Enclave that managed all organized crime in the country and parts of the world, Rex Valentino was denied access to very few places. My condo was practically a fortress. Not for Rex, of course. My men let him waltz right in.
“But seriously, I can smell Caterina on you.” I pointed at his dark suit.
“Then you have a pretty good idea of how much I didn’t want to leave home tonight.” He joined me at the bar cart and took the glass I offered him.
“Fine. I’ll bite. What’s the problem?”
“The fucking Irish.”
“They went after Hell’s Kitchen again?”
“Not yet. This—” he motioned with hand as he tried to recall the name, “—Liam Walsh asked Rossi for a meeting. I did a bit of digging on him. They call him the Butcher. He recently rose to power as the leader of the Irish gang in Harlem.”
I nodded, because the name and the details sounded vaguely familiar. Rex was the one who dealt with information, intelligence, and strategy. His business was to keep tabs on politicians, cops, influencers. In short, anyone who might be of use to the Society and the industries we managed. Keeping their dark secrets was how he got things done.
My family, on the other hand, was responsible for investments and real estate. Our firm was the most profitable front the Society owned. Partly because Rex’s access made it so I didn’t have to deal with red tape and silly legalities. And also, because I was good at closing deals.
I liked to keep my ear to the ground. Something as big as a rival gang changing leadership was hard to miss.
“Yeah, I’ve heard the name.” I scratched the stubble on my cheek. “So, two weeks ago, he mounted an attack on the New York Faction and now they want to talk? Hmm. Sounds like a trap.”
“Rossi thought so too. It’s why he came to me. He wants to set it off.” He cocked his eyebrow. “I thought you might want to join in the fun.”
“Isn’t it rather early for me to take out the trash?”
I was good at running the family business, but I was also good at killing. Not because I enjoyed it, but because, sometimes, assholes made it their mission to threaten our way of life. I had been raised, same as Rex, to protect and defend the Society above all. Fac fortia and patere—do brave things and endure. Since the beginning, our primary goal had been to safeguard our own and all gangs across the country. If that meant taking a life, I would always be more than willing and ready to do so.
I never hesitated. And I never looked back.
“That’s not what I meant.” Rex chuckled softly, shaking his head. “We’re not going to interfere. We’re there to observe. Nothing more. I want to understand what makes Walsh tick. How he operates. And most of all, I need to understand Walsh’s sudden urge to expand. Why is he willing to go to war now?”
“New leader. He has to do something big to prove himself.” I shrugged. “Or maybe, he has a small dick.”
“I need more information on this asshole before I decide how I’m going to handle him.”
“You’re using Rossi as bait?”
Chase Rossi was also a newcomer to the Society. His grandfather was shot and killed last year during a heist with the Venezuelan cartel. As the only surviving heir, Chase had to take over the New York Faction. Shortly thereafter, he helped Rex catch an FBI agent who was hell-bent on bringing down our organization. Since then, Rex had decided he trusted Rossi. He even offered him a seat at the table and a title of Don. Good thing he’d said no because something about him didn’t sit right with me.
“He volunteered. He wants this resolved as much as we do.” He finished his drink and set it down on the coffee table. “We need to go now. You coming?”
“You know I am.”
Assuming Rex had parked in my private garage, I headed toward the elevator door below the grand staircase and pushed the call button. When the doors slid open, I stepped in and pushed the G button.
The second Rex’s driver spotted us, he jumped out of the SUV and opened the door. Sure as fuck, Rossi was in the front seat. I should’ve known he’d be coming with us.
“The whole gang is back together again.” I climbed in the back seat and unbuttoned my suit jacket.
“Good to see you too.” Rossi nodded once.
Maybe this was the thing I didn’t like about him. He was too fucking nice. Too serious. Since the entire Gallo family had been wiped out, Rex had an empty seat at the table—one he had been trying to get Rossi to fill. Chase wasn’t raised by the Society like the rest of us were. He didn’t have a killer instinct.
“So, this is a recon mission. But tell me you brought weapons.” I faced Rex.
“Of course we did. We’re going in with a half-ass plan. We need all the backup we can get.” Rex tapped his driver’s shoulder.
The Escalade slowly rolled out of the parking spot and toward the exit. As soon as we merged with the traffic, Rossi shifted his body to meet my gaze. “Rex is right. We don’t have much of a plan. Walsh wants to meet at a pub in Harlem. He claims it’s neutral territory, but he’s fucking lying.”
“Did he say what he wanted?” I asked.
“He said something about how he doesn’t want to be on bad terms with the Italians. He wants to talk about what happened in Hell’s Kitchen and prove he had nothing to do with it.” Rossi exchanged a meaningful look with Rex. “Meeting the Irish in person is the best move right now. I’m willing to take the risk and explain to them that war isn’t an option.”
Walsh fucked up big when he went after Rossi’s crew and failed. But I had to admit, his next move had merit. He was right in his assumption that Rossi would want some sort of truce. Even if Walsh was lying about his involvement in the attack, Rossi was willing to hear him out. Mostly because he didn’t want a war and he was desperate for information that could give him an edge. He was willing to serve himself up as bait to get what he needed.
“You have balls. I’ll give you that.” I braced my hand on my knee, tapping my finger while I considered our options.
“We’re trying to prevent a gang war. If all he wants is money, we can give him that.” Rex raked a hand through his hair.
I had no doubt he was thinking about Caterina, the love of his life, and the promise he made to her to keep the peace. Why else would he be here himself? He could’ve sent anyone else to gather intel. But he wanted this matter resolved, sooner rather than later.
Personally, I didn’t care which way things went. Because at the end of the day, there was no way in hell Walsh’s resources could match ours. Rex and I alone could squash him like a bug.
“I’d like to keep the FBI out of our business,” Rossi added. “I’ve had enough of them to last me a lifetime.”
“So if we assume Walsh wants a truce, you’ll listen to him, Rex will come up with a Machiavellian plan to get him under control, and we all live happily ever after? What if Walsh just wants to kill you tonight?”
Truly, Walsh only had two choices tonight; make good with the New York Faction or declare war. I supposed Rex invited me along in case Walsh opted for the latter.
“That’s a possibility. In which case, my men are ready to retaliate.” Rossi’s gaze darted between Rex and mine.
And then the FBI pigs would crawl out of every corner and come after us. Just fucking great. The Irish could suck my balls.
“We’re here, Boss.” The driver spoke as the vehicle rolled to a stop on a dark street in Harlem.
A block away, the Limerick Pub stood out with its green neon sign and banners with Irish lettering. Of all the businesses around, the bar was the only one that looked like it was open.
“Where did everybody go?” I leaned forward to get a better look. “Looks like Walsh is also expecting trouble.”
“Let’s get this over with.” Rossi nodded toward Rex and climbed out of the car.
Within seconds, his form was no more than a dark shadow on the poorly lit and deserted street. When he entered the pub, the driver slowly pulled into the alley and killed the engine.
“I thought we were going in too.” I took in a breath to slow down my pulse. The thrill of the hunt had already kicked in, and I was ready for a fight.
“We’re here to observe, remember?” Rex’s voice rumbled in the car. “I’m not ready for Walsh to know who we are and what we can do.”
“You’re hoping his intentions are noble, aren’t you?” I shook my head. “A year ago, before Caterina, you would’ve gone in there with guns blazing. Be careful not to lose your edge, Rex.”
“I haven’t lost my edge. I’ve gotten smarter.” He pinned me with a cruel stare that would make most men shit their pants.
I wasn’t most men.
“Hmm.” I climbed out of the car.
Sitting still had never been my style. I wanted to see this Liam Walsh who had, in a few short days, become a thorn in my side. Why would Rex make any kind of concessions for this asshole? He wasn’t worth our time.
I stayed close to the shadow of the buildings. With the line of cars parked on the street as my shield, I zeroed in on the pub and the people inside it. A man with graying hair sat in front of the window. I could only guess he was the man of the hour, since Rossi kept his attention mostly on him.
“This is all cheap theater he’s putting on. But for whom? And why?”
What was Walsh up to? He set up a clandestine meeting with the leader of the New York Faction, only to put it on display for everyone to see. Was this talk to show his people he had influence with the Italians, with us? What was this asshole up to? Rossi was a sitting duck, but so was Walsh. He had to know Rossi wouldn’t come alone.
“That’s why we’re here.” Rex stepped silently next to me.
I couldn’t hear what they were saying. But by the look on their faces, I could only guess they were in the process of comparing dicks.
In the next beat, the air stilled around me, and a new scent invaded my senses. Walsh’s men pulled out their guns and aimed at Rossi. What the hell happened? They were just talking and now they weren’t. I hated being right.
I sat on my heels and shifted my body to check behind me. Rex stepped out of the shadows and kneeled next to me. “He needs a diversion.”
“I know.” I removed my shoes and took off my socks. “Give me your socks.”
He didn’t ask why, which meant he knew exactly what I planned to do, and he agreed with it. I made quick work of the four pieces of fabric and tied them together.
“You call that a knot?” He shook his head as he unscrewed the gas cap of the nearest car.
“It’ll burn just the same.” I fed the makeshift line into the tank and fished a lighter from the inside pocket of my jacket.
We were mobsters. Fire had come in handy more than I cared to count. I made a point to always be prepared. If Rossi was paying attention, and I was certain he was, he’d see the sheet of flame coming at him—a perfect distraction for him to bolt out the back door.
As luck would have it, the pimped-out Civic was unlocked, which was a good thing given how Rossi was running out of time and locks weren’t my thing. Inside the pub, he had his arms up in surrender, though his mouth had not stopped moving. He was still trying to talk his way out of getting shot. I crawled into the front seat and pulled on the steering wheel, all the way to the left.
“Let’s push.”
Between Rex and me, we hauled ass and sent it on its way. I lit the line of silk socks and made a run for it. The explosion happened faster than I had anticipated and sent me flying across the asphalt. I landed with a thud and a loud ringing in my ears. Fuck, that hurt. Another detonation disrupted the screams and alarms going off. Like hearing voices under water, Walsh’s men yelled orders that I couldn’t quite make out.
My whole body ached, and I couldn’t find the strength to get up.
Tires screeching in the distance made me shift my body in time to be blinded by the SUV’s headlights. A hand pulled me by the elbow and shoved me inside the Escalade. I didn’t fight it, quickly scooting all the way to other door, ready to jump out if necessary.
When my vision cleared and I spotted Rex and his driver, I melted into the seat, cradling my ribs. “Where’s Rossi?”
Shots pelted the bulletproof windows. Out of nowhere, Rossi landed on the hood of our ride and then climbed inside. “Let’s go. Let’s go,” he yelled as he slammed his hand on the dashboard.
The Escalade careened out of there with two other vehicles in full pursuit.
“Our guys are just on the other side of that divide.” Rossi pointed up ahead.
Sure enough, as soon as we reached the edge of Harlem, a caravan of vehicles—including a fucking school bus—blocked the street behind us and started shooting at the Irish.
“That was the stupidest fucking plan.” I shook my head. “Of course the asshole wanted you dead.”
“Did you get it?” Rex asked.
“Yeah.” Rossi nodded and gave Rex a thumb drive. “You were right. His house is divided. He wants to prove himself to his new crew. He promised them Hell’s Kitchen—new clients, new business ventures.”
“That’s our territory,” I said through gritted teeth. Walsh thinking he could come in and push us out was a direct and personal insult to me. “Is the asshole ready to go to war?”
“Yes, he is.” Rossi winced in pain, holding his side with a bloody hand. “Now what?”
“Now we give him what he wants.” Rex met my gaze. “The Society will take it from here.”
“Time to take out the trash.” I smirked. This was more my speed. I was done with recon missions.
Our organization had been created for this very reason. We were the peacekeepers—the protectors. It was up to us to keep chaos at bay, in whatever way we deemed necessary.