Born into the Mob, page 8
The line went dead.
“Seven or eight hours?” Luca repeated. “Shit. She has to spend the night with those assholes?”
Frankie spread his arms wide. “Trust me, Samuele Adelmo, or whatever the hell he goes by these days, is the best. And he doesn’t give a shit about the money, which, as you pointed out, doesn’t exist anymore. But I’m not sure that’s enough. I think we should call your cousin Marco.”
Marco was an ex-Navy SEAL. He spent ten years doing stuff for the government that he never talked about. Whatever it was, it had aged him significantly. He was practically a grumpy old man at thirty.
But he was also a badass and wasn’t afraid of anything.
“See if he’ll do a little recon while we wait for Samuele to get here,” Frankie said. “Have him figure out where they’re keeping Nina. He won’t have to get involved in whatever goes down afterward. We just need him to point us in the right direction.”
Luca called his cousin. Marco didn’t seem surprised at all when Luca explained what happened. “This is the shit that happens when you get involved in Uncle Frankie’s world.”
“I’m fully aware,” Luca ground out. “And I’ve learned my lesson, okay? I just need your help to make it right.”
“Fine,” Marco said. “Tell me everything you know about these guys. Leave out nothing.”
Luca told him. Names, places he was aware that they hung out, the general area where he thought Davit might live. Marco promised to get to work and said he’d text Nina’s number when he had information to share.
Frankie called his wife and told her he was spending the night with Luca, and then he went to bed, claiming there was nothing to be done until Samuele arrived in the morning.
Luca couldn’t sleep. No way in hell. His brain wouldn’t stop working. Wouldn’t stop thinking about Nina, and every worst case scenario that could be happening to her, while they sat around and did nothing, for hours on end.
Chapter Ten
Nina jerked awake when she heard the snick of a lock being released, and she hurried to wipe away the sleep from her eyes as she hopped to her feet and smoothed her palms down the front of her horribly wrinkled dress.
The door at the top of the stairs opened and light spilled onto the steps. She shielded her eyes from the brightness, more than a lamp would put off, which meant it was finally morning. The scent of eggs and bacon wafting down to her confirmed that suspicion.
Her stomach grumbled. She was really hungry, but if her plan worked, she wouldn’t have time to eat breakfast before her escape. Which was perfectly all right with her.
Narek made his way down the stairs, carrying a tray of what was indeed breakfast, presumably for her.
She was glad it wasn’t Serendipity and Davit again. She couldn’t stomach another episode of them going at it.
Narek wore a button-down shirt, open, with an undershirt, and she could see the holster wrapped around his shoulders. It was empty. He apparently didn’t see her as a threat. Or, she supposed, he figured he was more than twice her size so he could handle whatever she threw his way without having to draw the weapon.
His gaze swept over her while he sneered.
Self-consciously, she touched her hair. “This isn’t the movies, big guy,” she snapped. “Some of us aren’t at our best the morning after being kidnapped.”
He shrugged. “You don’t look half-bad. I’d still fuck you.”
She took a hasty step backward, her calves bumping into the bed frame.
“Davit says I can’t touch you though. He says we don’t need to give the Italians an excuse to get pissed off at us. He’d rather they fight with each other instead. But if need be, we can use that as a form of punishment down the line.”
Oh God, this crazy plan she hatched at probably four in the morning had better work. Nina had never been in a situation before where she feared she might be raped. The grass certainly was greener on her side of the fence, wasn’t it? Glorious, fresh, spring-green grass.
Narek suddenly zoned in on the huge puddle of water in the middle of the room, and Nina held her breath, watching, every muscle in her body tense.
She’d created the small lake by emptying the bottles of water from the mini fridge and then adding even more by refilling them from the faucet in the bathroom.
“What the hell?” he demanded, looking at her like she’d done something wrong. Which she had, but, hopefully, he wouldn’t figure that out.
Hoping to God he wasn’t as perceptive as Davit and Serendipity, she played it cool and shrugged. “Started last night.”
“Fuck.” He danced around the wetness like he was the Wicked Witch of the West and afraid he’d melt. Turning his back on her, he placed the food on the TV tray.
She ran.
Up the stairs to the top, grabbing the door and flinging herself through the entrance, then slamming it shut behind her before flipping the deadbolt lock. He was already beating on the steel door from the other side before she could even snatch her hand away.
Shit. She hadn’t actually thought out this escape plan, beyond getting out of the basement. What should she do now?
Her heart slamming against her ribcage, she quickly scanned her surroundings. The kitchen wasn’t the size of Luca’s, but it was plenty big, another mega-mansion clearly designed to show off for the owner’s wealthy friends.
To her left was the entry to the living room; that was the way they’d brought her into the house. To her right was a breakfast nook, set in front of sliding glass doors that led to a stone patio and lovely landscaping, from what she could tell. The yard was small, though, and butted up against a wooded area. She wasn’t sure where she was nor how large that wooded area was and where it led to.
Considering she’d left her heels in the basement, figuring it would be easier to run that way, she opted for the front door.
And pulled up short when Davit stepped into her path, tugging a T-shirt over his head. Not that she meant to look, but he sure as hell appeared to be aroused at the moment.
Did he and Serendipity ever give it a rest?
“What is it?” a feminine voice asked from behind him, and Nina glanced over his shoulder at Serendipity pulling a thin, silky robe over her shoulders.
“What the hell are you doing up here?” Davit roared, lunging for Nina.
Call it panic, fear, gut-reaction. whatever. She grabbed the nearest potential weapon with which to defend herself—one of those metal crosses hanging all over the damn place.
Holding the long end, she swung wildly. Davit tried to jump out of the way, but Serendipity was behind him, keeping him from moving fast enough, and the cross caught him in the arm and sent him crashing into the wall. He slumped to the floor.
“Baby!” Serendipity shrieked, falling to her knees next to him.
The heavy object d’art clattered to the floor, and Nina ran toward the sliding glass doors that led into the backyard. She fumbled with the lock and then tugged the heavy door open. An alarm began shrilling so loudly, she clapped her hands over her ears for a moment.
Move, damn it, move!
She booked it across the patio and came to a screeching halt, because holy shit, that wasn’t just a wooded area; this tiny chunk of yard butted up to a freaking ravine with a small stream at the bottom.
She really should have figured out how to go through the front door.
No time to focus on should haves, though. Serendipity was obviously smart enough to play both sides of whatever the hell competition was going on between Luca and Davit, so it wouldn’t take her long to figure out she needed to let the other guy out of the basement so he could come after Nina, if she didn’t do it herself.
Nina rushed through the soft, dew-covered grass toward the ravine, and then, with a quick glance over her shoulder, she dropped to her butt and began sliding down the side, crying out because not only was she not wearing shoes, but she was also wearing a short skirt, and that was a hell of a lot of skin exposed to broken branches and stones and pebbles and oh Lord, she hoped there wasn’t poison ivy out here. She’d learned on a Girl Scouts camping excursion when she was ten that she was highly allergic to the stuff.
Her feet splashed into the stream as she came to a skidding stop, and she let out an involuntary cry because, holy crap, that was seriously cold water!
She climbed to her feet and hopped over the tiny trickle and began making her way through the underbrush. As she passed by a particularly large tree trunk, an arm snaked out, hooked around her waist, and lifted her off her feet.
Nina screamed.
***
When Luca was a kid, his dad deserted them, and Uncle Frankie stepped in and helped Mom support her three children. That was when Luca decided he wanted to be just like Uncle Frankie. His work ethics may have been skewed, but the guy would never ditch his family.
As Luca grew into a grumpy teenager, he and his mom would have screaming matches over it. Luca, who obviously had abandonment and father-figure issues, didn’t understand his mother’s stance.
After she’d lose her temper and send him to his room for the rest of the night, she’d head to the kitchen and cook away her frustrations. He’d come out the next morning, feeling badly for his part in their fight, and the kitchen would be full of Italian desserts and breads and there’d be pasta sauce still simmering in a pot on the stove.
Turned out, he’d inherited that particular way of dealing with stress. He was in the middle of mincing garlic to add to his sauce when Frankie came rushing into the kitchen shortly after six in the morning, his wide eyes taking in the disaster Luca had made of the countertop before he shook his head and blurted, “We have a problem.”
“Yeah, I’m fully aware.” Luca used the heel of his hand to rub his no doubt bloodshot eyes before dumping the garlic into the pot.
“No, we have a bigger problem.”
Luca flung around to face him, the ladle still in his hand. An arch of red sprayed the counter, the island, and Frankie’s shirt. “What? Did they hit her? Is she still alive?”
Frankie glanced down and plucked the fabric away from his torso. “Don’t know if they hit her, but I assume she’s still alive, since they figured out who she is.”
Luca dropped the ladle, the remaining red sauce splattering across the floor, onto the front of the cupboard, and over his legs. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.” Frankie grabbed a towel and dabbed at his shirt. “I need a shot of caffeine.”
Luca pulled a stack of K-cups out of a drawer and Frankie made them each a coffee while Luca hastily wiped off his legs and the countertop. “How did they figure it out? How do you know they know?”
Frankie offered him a mug. “No idea how they figured it out. And I know because I just got a call from Aldo, who got a call from Davit, informing him of the merchandise he has in his possession.”
“He called her fucking merchandise?” Luca clenched his fist around the handle of the mug.
Frankie shrugged.
Luca’s phone made a sound—someone had come into view of the security camera set up at the front gate. He opened the app to see a fifty-ish Italian guy with a full beard threaded with gray, staring stonily into the lens. Turning the phone so Frankie could see the screen, he said, “Is that Samuele?”
Frankie squinted while studying the image. “Yeah, I think so.”
“I need you to be a lot more confident than that at this point.”
“Hell, I haven’t seen the man in twenty years and he’s been in hiding, so it’s not surprising he altered his looks. But yes, those are Samuele’s eyes and his nose.”
Luca tapped the screen, opening the gate, and then watched the black Cadillac pull up the drive until it disappeared from view.
A few minutes later, he opened the front door, and a solidly built Italian man stepped into his house and sniffed the air. “Smells good.” He dropped his gaze to Luca. “You must be Frankie’s nephew.”
Luca offered his hand to shake and introduced himself.
“Sam Jakowski.”
Luca blinked. The guy chuckled. “Nobody would think a former mob enforcer would have a name like that. Where’s Frankie?”
Luca led him into the kitchen, where Samuele, er, Sam, stopped short. “It looks like a fucking crime scene in here, but it smells like heaven. What the fuck happened?”
“Samuele,” Frankie said, his arms wide, like he was going in for a hug.
Sam backed up a couple of paces, and there was suddenly a gun in his hand, pointed at Frankie, who lifted his arms as if in surrender.
“I’m just saying hello. We’re on the same side, I promise you.”
“How’d you get a gun onto a plane?” Luca asked.
“I didn’t. Stopped and bought it on the way here. Money and Italian good looks still work to circumvent the system in this town.” He flashed a grin that looked lethal as hell and made Luca glad this guy was on their side.
“So if you aren’t going to tell me why there’s pasta sauce all over your kitchen, how about telling me where the situation stands. I’d like to get this taken care of and be on the first flight out tomorrow, if possible. Now that I’m back, I can tell you I don’t miss this town. Not one bit.” He looked around, his mouth twisted into a scowl.
“The situation just got ten times worse about twenty minutes ago,” Frankie said. “The Armenians know who she is.”
“Gino’s kid?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck.”
Luca’s sentiment exactly. “So when Aldo called you, what did he say?”
Frankie dragged his hand over his face and shifted his gaze to somewhere on the far wall. “Well, ah, it sounds like Davit is offering to sell her to the highest bidder.”
“No!” Luca shouted, as if that word alone could change the trajectory of this situation.
“That’s not surprising,” Sam said. “And is also good. That means they don’t know the money’s gone.”
“It’s also bad,” Frankie added. “It’s obvious his plan is to pit all of Gino’s remaining men against one another. While they’re busy fighting over money that doesn’t exist, the Armenians are going to sweep in and take over whatever little bit of territory the Italians still have control over.”
“Fucking genius,” Sam said.
“Not helping,” Uncle Frankie snapped. “This is going to turn into a goddamn bloodbath in the streets.”
“And Nina’s going to get caught in the crossfire,” Luca said, his throat constricting so much he could barely get the words out.
“We’re all going to get caught in it,” Frankie amended.
Nina’s phone buzzed. Luca pulled it out of his pocket. It was a text from Marco. There were a couple more he’d missed earlier, from Hillary, asking Nina to check in, but he ignored them for the moment.
“Marco figured out where they’re keeping her,” he said excitedly.
“Tell us everything he said,” Frankie demanded.
Luca frowned. “That’s it. That’s all he texted me.”
“Well hell,” Sam muttered, and then walked over and dipped his pinkie into the sauce still simmering on the stove.
“Pretty good but could use a little more garlic.”
Chapter Eleven
“No, no, no, no!” Nina kicked and waved her arms, doing her best impression of a slippery fish, because damn it, she was not going back to that basement, no matter how good their hospitality might be. Although depending on how much damage she did to Davit, their generosity might be severely adjusted if she were forced to return.
“Stop it,” a deep voice commanded. “I’m on your side.”
She didn’t stop. That voice didn’t belong to Luca, and who the hell else knew she was here?
“Jesus, calm down.” The arm tightened around her midsection, to the edge of pain, making it difficult for her to pull in a breath.
“I’m Luca’s cousin,” the guy finally rasped, and Nina abruptly stopped fighting him.
“Huh?”
He panted like he was the one who’d been struggling to get free, although he didn’t release his hold on her for a few seconds. When he finally did, he thrust out his arm. “Marco Romano. I assume you’re Nina?”
She shook his hand. Now that she wasn’t losing her mind with fear, she could see the resemblance between him and Luca. Similar dark hair, brown eyes, thick brows, and, oddly enough, kissable lips. “Yeah.”
He pointed at the steep hill behind her. She turned around, and her gaze came to rest on a set of wooden stairs built into the side of the ravine, approximately six feet to the right from where she’d slid down on her ass.
She lifted her chin, fully aware that a blush was creeping up her neck toward her face.
A small smile lifted his lips for a brief moment. Luca’s family had beautiful genes. But then the smile disappeared, and he said, “All right, let’s get the hell out of here.”
He grabbed her hand and started stalking through the trees, away from the house. Now that it appeared she was going to escape, she wished she’d kept the shoes on. Even stiletto heels were better than bare feet when hurrying through a forest.
They made it to Marco’s truck without incident—other than the damage to her poor feet—although there were plenty of sounds that indicated someone else was in that forest with them. But Marco was apparently good at being stealthy, because they never saw anyone, and those sounds hadn’t ever been close enough to give her a heart attack.
“Lay down in the back,” Marco instructed as he held open the door to the extended cab, “until I tell you it’s safe.”
Forty minutes later, he said, “Okay, you can sit up now.”
They were cruising up a narrow, winding drive she recognized. “You brought me to Luca’s house.”
“Where else would I take you?”
She ought to tell him to take her to her hotel so she could collect her things and get the hell out of town for her own safety, but more importantly, to put as much distance between herself and Luca as possible. It was the only way to keep him safe. Except—
