Veiled Amor by V. Theia

THIRTY-FOUR

“Blowing the doors off her gilded cage.” - Capone

 

 

Lucia was gone.

Capone knew it even as he searched up and down the street, dropping into Paige’s bakery because Lucia loved the pastries.

He knew it even as he pulled out his phone to call hers and realized it was in his pocket because she hadn’t wanted to carry it, and Capone had become her purse by shoving all her shit in his jacket.

He knew she was gone when he walked around the back alleyway.

His pulse was a steady beat of rising dread in his stomach.

She was fucking gone, and he knew why.

There was no way to bring his jackhammer heart under control.

It was too late to un-feel everything Lucia had made him feel.

He was too unhinged for that, too wild under his skin to even reason. But he punched out a number, and he waited on the street with his fist pressed to the brick wall while Armado Springs went about their daily life around him like his hadn’t just crashed.

The call answered, and Capone had a growl to his voice. “Tell me she’s alright.”

Nicholas Cole sounded bored when he answered, “Of course she is. She’s my daughter and will always be alright as long as she’s under my care.”

It was all Capone needed to hear. He hung up and swung a leg over his bike on autopilot, letting the engine roar to life beneath him.

There was only one path for him now, and that was to get to Miami.

First, he thumbed through his phone and hit a number again. “Hunt, it’s Capone. You need to move up your timetable on Cole.”

“What? I told you I’d be in touch when my team was ready. We’re nowhere near that yet, I have threads to tie up first.”

“Then it’s too bad you won’t get your cop commendation. I’m on the way to Miami. He snatched Lucia off the street.”

“Fuck,” Malachai Hunt hissed. “Listen, man, I need more time. Paperwork for arrest warrants don’t magically appear. She’ll be fine.”

Patient fury like he’d never felt before stung the back of Capone’s throat. His vision had narrowed, and all he could see, and feel was Lucia.

She’d be brave, of course. His woman was a tiny warrior and she’d know he was coming for her.

“You’re not listening, ese. I’m leaving now. You have the time it takes for me to get to Miami to get your man. If not, you’ll find him with his fucking throat slit. This is the only heads up you’ll get.”

Blood throbbed through his temples.

Only for Lucia’s sake was he putting a contingency plan in place because if it were up to Capone, he’d slaughter the man in the street with his bare hands.

But if Hunt didn’t beat him there, the fucker was going to die.

“Capone, listen, I need—” Capone hung up.

Within five hours, he had his boys with him sitting in a middle aisle plane seat with his fingers clasped together and his mind in a steel vault of control. Paying little attention to what Preacher, Texas, and Reaper were talking about.

All he could think about was his girl.

He knew there were many things Nicholas could do to hurt Lucia without laying a finger on her. His worst fear was Lucia was being shipped off somewhere he couldn’t find her.

He was going to fucking destroy that man, piece by piece.

“Hold it together, brother. We’re almost there,” Texas leaned over his seat. “Everything is going to be fine.”

Capone had done things in his life he wasn’t proud of and some other bad things he never thought about again. Sitting on a plane, not knowing what he was walking into or if his girl would be there, was the most terrified he’d ever felt.

He waited.

And he held his shit together.

Three hours later, they touched down, and the men prowled through Miami International airport. There was no sense of relief.

The moment they were outside, “fuck, it’s hot,” complained Preacher while Capone connected a call to his old club. “What do you have for me?”

The voice on the other end answered. “A black Range Rover went through the gates a while ago, the chick was there. She and Cole went inside.”

A beat of fire pulsed in Capone’s throat.

“What’s the sitch look like with guards?”

“Two on the gate, a few around back. We got them covered, brother.”

“Gracias, hermano. We’re fifty minutes out.”

The call dropped, and the boys strode to the rented Hummer as he relayed the info to the others.

The directive for the boys was a simple one. Neutralize the guards so he could get inside. Capone was in no doubt there would be guards inside Cole’s house too. He didn’t fucking care. He’d shoot his way in if he had to. His old club brothers had weapons waiting on the other end for them.

“You tight, Cap?” A thick meaty hand landed on his shoulder from the back of the Hummer sometime later as they arrived on the gated street.

“Sí, Preach. You know what to do?”

“Have fun with some motherfuckers? Yeah, we do.” He grinned through the rear-view mirror. The big fucker looked like he was ready to party.

They stepped out of the Hummer as a group, and Capone slapped palms with his old buddies. Handguns were passed over, and Capone slid it into the back waist of his jeans. He’d ditched the leather jacket in the car, so he was left wearing jeans, a muscle tee, and a sleeveless shirt.

It was almost as if Cole wanted to welcome Capone because the mechanical gate was wide open. The guards were taken care of pitifully straightforward, he left the boys behind with the sound of Preacher and Reaper bouncing taunts between them about how poorly armed the other men were. He trusted his brothers, old and present, to pave the way for him, so he didn’t look back when he strode the long driveway toward the mansion.

Like a polite asshole who didn’t care to hide his presence, he rang the bell.

Further proving how much Cole knew he’d come when the door opened by a servant, and he ushered him in. “Mr. Mercado, please come in. Mr. Cole is expecting you. There’s no need for your men. Our guards have been instructed not to harm anyone.”

He ignored the man and stepped into a house he didn’t think he’d come back to.

The night he broke in without an invitation and found Cole in his office to put a bullet in the man felt like it was a million years ago.

At that, the man himself came along a hallway, meeting Capone at the split staircase in the vast tiled foyer.

The fucker was smiling. “You made good time.”

“Where is she?”

“Come in, Mercado, it’s hot, we’ll get you something to drink. We have a lot to talk about.”

“We have fuck all to talk about. Where is she?”

She appeared at the top of the staircase as if he’d conjured his Lucia, and Capone felt his heart settle into a steady pace, his eyes scraped over her to find her unharmed. Her eyes lit up, mouthing his name soundlessly.

He held her gaze as she froze. “Mi corazón, do you want to grab those pictures of your mom you said you wanted? Then we’ll go.”

It wasn’t going to be so easy, but Capone was prepared to shoot their fucking way out of this goddamn house.

“Capone.” She whispered, and he felt the word in his gut. She was scared, and he couldn’t have that. He sent her a smile.

Capone had every intention of fighting for his life.

Lucia was that life he’d craved for so fucking long.

In Spanish, he told her, “trust me, my love, it’s nearly over.”

“I love you so much,” she declared with a smile, and then she turned and disappeared. That’s when Capone returned his gaze to her watchful father.

“You’re gonna let her walk away from here.”

The older man smirked. “I could have you killed in seconds, I allowed you to walk in here, Capone, because I think we could be beneficial to each other.”

“If you wanted me dead, I’d be dead already. I’m not because you know even if you hate my guts, I’m the only man on the fucking planet who would put myself in the way of a bullet to save Lucia. Not even you would.”

“I love my daughter.”

“Not enough to die for her. Not enough to let her have her own fucking life. You’re trying to kill her in a cage in the same way you did with her mother.”

The other man turned ashen. Capone didn’t feel an ounce of pity for him. Cole’s loss was Capone’s gain, and he was one man who would never take Lucia’s love and loyalty for granted.

“We’re taking whatever shit she wants from this place, and it’ll be the last time she comes back. You’re gonna leave her the fuck alone.”

Any show of congeniality dropped from Cole’s face.

Capone’s fingers itched to reach back for the gun and blow his fucking head off. Hunt better hurry the fuck up, or it would be a whole different scene the FEDS would walk into.

His saving grace, the woman who calmed the storm within him, came down the stairs carrying a small backpack over her shoulder.

“Lucia,” her father spoke in a cold, warning tone as if he expected her to come to heel. God, he fucking loved that woman when she didn’t even spare her father a look, just came right to Capone, his arm curled around her, and his mouth found her forehead, “you okay?”

“I am now.”

“The car and the boys are outside.”

She hesitated, a tremble went down her spine under his hand. He kissed her again, “trust me, amor.”

“Lucia,” her father hissed as she stepped away, and it was then she turned to him. “You’re making a mistake, daughter.”

“It’s the only right thing I’ve ever done, dad. You can’t control me any longer. I told you Capone would come for me. He is who I trust, who I love more than anything.” She flicked her gaze to Capone and smiled a little, then turned back to her father, “this could have been so different, but you don’t know how to compromise. Everything is your way or no way. That means you won’t be the one to give me away at my wedding, and you won’t see your grandchildren growing up. You did this, dad.” To Capone, like a brave warrior, she said, “don’t take long, I want to go home, baby.” She walked out without a backward glance. Texas would safeguard her until Capone could.

“A wedding? Children?”

“Sí.” As soon as he could do both. He wanted to give Lucia everything she desired. They’d waited too long already. “I walked away from her once. I won’t make that mistake twice.”

Something ugly twisted on Cole’s face. “Haven’t you figured it out yet, boy?” So smug for a man who was about to be ambushed by the FEDS. Texas got the word from his twin when they pulled up outside that his team was mobilizing and would be there soon. So, he could give the Viejo bastardo his moment in the sun since he so desperately longed for it. “I was the one who stopped you from having what you wanted. I saw how you looked at my daughter, a grown man with lust in his eyes for a child.”

Hardly a child, but Nicholas had done what he set out to do, which was to shock Capone.

Smirking, “I always said you should have worked for me. What a waste playing with motorcycles. Your father didn’t put enough ambition into his sons, what were they again? Car salesmen?” He said it like a nasty word, “what better way to stop my daughter being used up by a dirty biker than to give her to the biggest nobody. It was perfect. She was kept untouched. After all, that brother of yours didn’t know what to do with a woman, did he?” Another smirk, “tell me, Capone, how much did it sting to wonder how often he was bedding my daughter? Did you try to burn her out of your system with other women? Did it kill you to see them together around the family dinner table? I must say, I found that amusing. In our life, we take enjoyment where we can, hm?”

Capone held onto his temper, since he knew he’d won, anyway.

He was going to walk out of here, love his woman as hard as he could and give her the best fucking life.

Nicholas Cole was heading to jail.

Death would be too easy for him.

Taking away his freedom and liberties. Making Nicholas adhere to the ruling of someone else, would be a much slower death.

More satisfying, that was for damn sure.

Not all revenge had to come with the sharp end of a knife.

Capone would smile for the rest of his fucking life, knowing Nicholas was suffering.

“And is that why you killed the Mercado’s? Because of entertainment?”

Nicholas dared smile.

Can’t kill him. Can’t kill him.

Not with a fleet of FEDS on their way.

But his trigger finger flexed as he shoved a hand into his jeans pocket.

“A lesson had to be learned.”

“My parents, brothers, their wives, and my baby sister were innocent.”

“Casualties of war. Santiago got above his station. He was never supposed to rise higher than the level of a dog. He was a good fetcher, but he tried to outsmart me. Silly boy.”

“That’s why you had them killed?”

“Yes. My man did them humanely, you can be grateful for that. But I did your brother personally. He had to know their deaths were his fault.”

“Finished?” He asked, tone cold as ice. “That’s good, I was getting bored with listening to you. You’re so desperate to control Lucia with your thumb on her forehead that you don’t realize you’ve lost her. You should have stuck to your blow and hookers, Cole. Lucia is mine, and she’s mine through her choice. You won’t get another chance to come near her.”

This conversation was asinine and done.

But he had something long overdue to do first when he made to walk away, but at the last second, he turned, cocked back his fist, and let it fly until it connected to Cole’s face.

Anger.

Fury.

Hate.

It pulsed through Capone’s bloodstream as he used one hand to hold his enemy’s shirt while the other caused carnage to Cole’s face.

Giving him death was too humane for this guy.

Capone wanted to see him deteriorate, to suffer.

“You took everything from me. Now I take everything from you. Lucia is mine, always has been.” Seeing the damage he’d caused up close, blood spurting from Cole’s face, Capone smiled and pushed his nose into Cole’s broken cheekbone, the other man groaned, defeated. “I could stab a hundred holes into you right now, watch you die at my feet, and you couldn’t do a thing, you weak piece of piss.”

Capone’s lip curled, pushing Cole away until the older man groaned and staggered on his feet, blood oozing out onto his once pristine suit. Capone casually wiped off his bloody knuckles on Cole’s shirt. “You’ll regret this, Mercado,” he moaned, spitting blood onto the floor.

“Doubt it.”

Feeling less heavy inside, Capone chuckled at the door.

“Looks like you have visitors, comepinga.” He announced as he watched car after car pull into the driveway. The cavalry had arrived. Hunt didn’t so much as acknowledge Capone as the two men passed each other. Capone walked to the love of his life, and Hunt headed into the mansion to make the most significant arrest of his career.

Sometimes a win came in another form.

He always thought he’d finish Cole by slaughtering him.

This was more satisfying.

They not only got Nicholas Cole, but fifty of his crew too.

It was a damn good catch for Hunt.

Outside, he waited in the Hummer, Capone’s hand on Lucia’s thigh. His girl was trembling. The stubborn girl wanted to see it through to the end.

“Let me take you home, nena.”

“A few minutes more,” she said, her head turned toward the estate.

The media vans arrived in droves.

It didn’t take thirty minutes for a handcuffed Cole to be brought out, he caught Lucia’s gaze. The man who had given life to the most perfect woman in this world didn’t react to seeing his daughter’s tears as he was shoved into the back of a car.

Her hand stole over his, and he twined their fingers together.

Capone kissed her tears away. “We’re leaving now.”

They were going back to the MC for a feed and a drink before they caught a plane home.

It was then Hunt stepped up to Capone’s side of the car, he whirred the electronic window down. “Did you hear it all?” He asked without prompting. Hunt had the place wired.

“Oh, yes,” Hunt smirked. “We can add murder to his already long list of charges.”

Though Lucia gasped, she didn’t chime in, and Capone squeezed the hand she had tucked into his. There was no need to say more to Hunt, they weren’t friends and wouldn’t be going for a beer together, but Capone bet the cop celebrated tonight.

“Ready to go, nena?”

“Yes, please.” She said as Reaper started the car.

So brave was his woman; she didn’t look back once.

Capone would make sure she never had to go through anything like this again.

It was going to be his job and pleasure to make sure she was always happy.

“You okay?” He asked once they got on the highway, heading toward the MC. Motorcycles flanked them.

She didn’t answer for a second, but turned her head his way. “I will be.”

Capone would make sure of it.

He hadn’t waited all this time to love his woman and then fall on the job in the first few years.

There was obsession, and then there was what he felt for Lucia.

Later, a beer in one hand, his woman curled on his lap, the MC was buzzed for the arrest. The club here had tried for years to get rid of Nicholas Cole, now they had reason to revel. On TV, there was only one breaking story on every news channel.

 

 

“Tonight’s top story sees the arrest of Nicholas Cole, the organized crime boss. He was taken into custody by federal agents from his estate. Miami’s crime underbelly has been run by Cole for decades and until now, he evaded capture. It was learned only moments ago in a surprising statement from the FBI’s head investigator, Malachai Hunt, that a lengthy three-year probe of Mr. Cole has yielded enough evidence to secure a warrant for his arrest. The charges include drug trafficking, racketeering, extortion, and murder. This could render a sentence of life in prison without parole if found guilty on all counts. Stay tuned as we take you through a decade of unsolved crime in and around Miami and what this could mean for the man known only as The Kingpin.

 

 

It was an ending.

Not the one Capone had dreamed for years, but he felt justice had been served.

And hey, unexplained deaths happened behind bars all the time.

That’s all he’d say.

There were more important things in life to obsess over.

Revenge paled to what he felt for the woman nuzzling his neck. Lucia was halfway to being smashed, and his mouth kicked up with a grin as she wriggled and wrapped her arms around him. Capone buried a hand in the back of her hair, keeping her at his neck.

If she crashed emotionally, he’d be there to pick her up.

There was no fucking force in this world to keep him from her again.

“I love you, huh?” He told her, mouth against Lucia’s temple. He felt her exhale, burrowing deeper into him. “God, I love you, Giancarlo.” She started kissing across his neck, and if he didn’t get her somewhere private soon, they’d put on a show, and he didn’t think in the light of day tomorrow his shy girl would appreciate what her drunk-self did.

Thankfully, the Prez had allocated them a room until their early morning flight.

Capone would forever wonder what he did in this life to deserve a woman as patient and kind as Lucia, one with a forgiving heart.

He didn’t deserve her; he knew that.

But he was asshole enough to know when he was onto a good thing and to hold on to that good thing with two fucking hands and never let go.

They’d go forward, and they’d live and do it happily.

And now it felt like a good time to exhale.

To build on what started years ago when they were so fucking derailed.

Back on track, Capone knew he was the luckiest bastardo walking.

“Te amo, mi corazón.” He repeated.

There was no disguising how she felt about him when her head came up. It was all there in her glossy eyes as she nibbled on her lower lip like a siren. “Hey, guess what?”

He half-smiled. “What?”

“Got you.” she dissolved into drunken cackles and rested her forehead to his.

Amused, Capone stroked a hand down the length of her spine, “my little she-devil, married one brother, fucked another. What am I gonna do with you, nena, huh?” it was said with affection because their history might not be pretty. Still, it was theirs, and she was the only woman to dig under his skin, to coarse through his veins. She was it for him.

“Keep me forever.”

Her answer was simple and huge at the same time.

It was their truth.

He’d waited a long time to hear it, speak and feel the truth.

But you know what? Capone agreed with his whole-ass heart.