Chapter 13
Savio, Remo and I were in our airplane on our way to save Adamo who’d been captured by the Outfit.
Maybe we should have expected another hit. Like Stefano had said: Dante had tasted blood. The successful killing of one of our Underbosses had made him daring. Ending the grand race in Kansas City despite the recent attack had been risky but also a necessary sign.
One that might cost us Adamo.
He should have never taken part in that race. We had forbidden him, but Adamo was a kid in many regards. We should have made sure he didn’t get the chance to get anywhere near Kansas. We shouldn’t have trusted he was with C.J. in the Sugar Trap. It was as much our fault as if was his. We were meant to protect him.
Remo sat hunched in his seat. We’d just boarded the plane but were already up in the air. We didn’t have any time to waste.
Savio peered up at me. “Do you think we can get him out?”
We didn’t know where the Outfit kept Adamo, and even if we found out, Dante would have the place heavily guarded. We’d try an ambush anyway and it would probably cost all of our lives. My chest constricted thinking of Kiara’s tears when I’d left, her shaking voice when she’d asked me to be careful and return to her.
I wanted nothing more, but if I didn’t try to save Adamo, I wouldn’t be able to live myself, nor would my brothers. We’d save him or die trying. There really was no other option.
The noise of the plane faded into the background until I only heard the screaming.
Pity was a foreign concept to me. When I caused other people pain, it gave me satisfaction figuring out the most effective ways to reach whatever goal I had set myself. Screams didn’t faze me, never had. But seeing Adamo getting tortured on our laptop screen, hearing his screams from the speakers, my insides seemed to shrivel. I remembered holding him as a baby, remembered patching him up whenever as a small kid he fell and hurt himself.
Remo was shaking, his face a mixture of anguish and fury. I felt nothing except for a ringing hollowness that spread further and further until there was only cold. No emotions, no pain, nothing. The reassuring calm of the past.
Remo was right we needed to watch Adamo’s suffering, so we knew what was at stake. We’d seen and done worse, and not just witnessed it on a screen from afar. But this … this cut deeply.
A blonde woman stumbled into view, stopping the torture, protecting Adamo. Serafina Mione.
Remo tensed, and his expression became still in a way it never had. As if this was the revelation he’d been waiting for.
Savio darted a concerned look at me. “Fuck.”
“Remo?” I asked, when he kept staring at the screen.
He ignored me and lifted his phone. I had a feeling I knew whom he was calling, and more than that—what he was going to do.
I shook my head but he didn’t see me, his eyes only for Serafina.
“Dante, I’ll give you what you really want. Tomorrow morning I’ll be in Minneapolis and exchange myself for Adamo.”
Savio took a step closer, mouthing what the hell?
“It’s me you want to see burn, not my brother, and you will get your chance.”
Relief showed on Remo’s face and I knew Dante had agreed to the deal. The Outfit Capo wanted Remo not Adamo.
“Understood.”
With a strange smile Remo lowered the phone.
“They will kill you, Remo,” Savio said.
Remo nodded and met my gaze. “They will cut me, skin me, burn me, cut off my dick, and then maybe they’ll kill me.”
“This is madness, Remo.”
“Maybe. But it’s what’s going to happen, Nino. My decision is final.”
Remo sank down on the seat and Savio leaned close to me. “We can’t allow this. Remo needs to stop sacrificing himself. We need him.”
I swallowed. I’d never been separated from Remo for more than a few days. We’d survived only because we had each other. I sank down across from him, hoping to talk sense into him, even if it had never worked in the past.
Remo shook his head. “Don’t waste your time.”
I stood, too restless to sit. Savio was hunched in his seat and I walked over to him. He raised his head with a dark laugh. “Fuck. The little shit always grated on my nerves. But seeing those assholes cut him and burn him…I want to smash their fucking heads in.”
“One day we will.”
“Yeah, but first they’re going to shred Remo into pieces,” Savio said. He ran a hand through his hair, staring up at me. “You’re a fucking genius, don’t you have an idea how to sort out this mess?”
Remo was staring out of the plane window, brows drawn together and fierce determination on his face.
“I don’t think Remo will allow it.”
Remo was the strongest Capo there was. Without him the Camorra would still be a collection of idiots struggling for power—without him Las Vegas would still be in the hands of unworthy men. Remo was Las Vegas. Remo was the Camorra. Remo was a born leader.
I was not. I’d never wanted to be.
The Camorrista would follow me because they feared me, because of their unfailing loyalty to our family, but not because of me.
They’d have no other choice if I didn’t figure out a way to get my brother out of the clutches of the Outfit though.
Remo had said I needed to accept his decision but as I watched Remo being dragged away toward an Outfit car, I realized it was something I could never do. I wouldn’t rest until I’d killed every Outfit soldier in the cruelest way possible for taking Remo. I’d kill Dante last so he could witness one man after the other suffer for his mistake, so he’d live with the regret and guilt, until I finally killed him. It would be an act of mercy after what he’d have to endure beforehand.
Adamo groaned in pain when Savio and I carried him over to our car. “Don’t … don’t let them take Remo away.” The cars behind me were already pulling away taking my brother with them.
“We’ll save him,” I said automatically because I couldn’t imagine it being any other way.
Savio sent me a questioning look but I ignored him. We needed to get Adamo away from here as soon as possible so I could take a look at his injuries. His burnt skin was an angry red and would quickly get infected if not treated properly.
“Is it a clean break?” I asked him as we hoisted him into the backseat.
Adamo blinked at me, dazed.
“Never mind,” I said. I carefully felt his arm, not feeling any protruding bones at least.
Savio and I got into the front of the car and we sped away. Savio was driving as fast as the traffic allowed to get us to our plane quickly.
“We’re staying close by, right?” Savio asked, slanting me an anxious look. “So we can figure out a way to help Remo.”
I nodded slowly, although I wasn’t sure what we could do.
When we reached the plane and were safely up in the air, I called Fabiano. He picked up after the first ring.
“Is Kiara okay?” I asked immediately. Every Camorrista was on high alert. Still, I needed to make sure she was fine.
“Yes, but she’s worried, we both are. Do you have Adamo?”
I glanced toward my little brother who lay on his back on the lowered seat, face pale and sweaty. “We’ve got him. He needs medical treatment, which is why I have to make this short.”
“What about Remo?” Fabiano rasped, and my throat became tight.
“He handed himself over as he’d intended.”
“Fuck, fuck!” Fabiano exhaled. “Fuck.”
“We’re going back and staying in Kansas for the time being, trying to figure something out.”
“Let me join you. Let me help. We need to save Remo.”
“You need to protect Kiara. Savio and I’ll try to figure something out with the Underboss of Kansas.”
“All right. I’ll take her back to the mansion,” Fabiano said quietly. “Kiara just wants a quick word.”
“Give her to me.”
“Nino,” Kiara whispered desperately. “Please be safe. All of you just be safe. You are my family.”
“We will be safe.”
My throat got tighter and I hung up, needing to keep a clear head. I headed over to Adamo and Savio.
Savio was talking to him quietly and looked up when I stopped beside them.
“We need to clean your wound and treat your broken arm. It’s going to be painful.”
Adamo let out a choked laugh, eyes bloodshot. “I can deal with the pain.”
I nodded, taking in his bloody face, the cut on his arm, the burn. His body spoke a clear language of the torture he’d had to endure. His eyes, they showed me that it had left more than physical injuries.
KIARA
I lowered the phone, my heart racing in my chest. They had Remo. I clamped a hand over my mouth and handed Fabiano his phone back. For once his face wasn’t controlled. I could see his worry, his pain, and it was just too much.
I bent forward and cried out, “They need to save him. Nino can’t be without Remo … they belong together.”
Fabiano put a gentle hand on my back. “We all need Remo.”
I nodded. The man who had scared me more than anything else, he was what kept this family together.
“Nino will figure something out … fuck.” Fabiano sighed. “I should be there with them. This all started because Remo wanted to give me my father.”
“That’s not true. Remo would have gone through with the kidnapping anyway, but of course he also wanted to give you the chance to do what he could never do.”
“Kill my father.”
Leona came in with a tray loaded with food she must have found in the fridge. The safe house was always kept stocked with food and water in case an emergency arose. It was a small, unsuspecting house in a middle-class neighborhood.
She asked Fabiano, “What happened?”
“Remo exchanged himself for Adamo. The Outfit got him. They…” He stared down at his Camorra tattoo. His Adam’s apple bobbed. Leona sent me a shocked look then slowly came over to the dining table and set the tray down. She touched Fabiano’s shoulder. She didn’t say anything, no words of reassurance, because what could be said?
The Outfit had Remo. Their enemy, the man who kidnapped and dishonored another man’s fiancé, Dante’s niece.
I wanted to stay hopeful but for once I only felt dread. “Nino and Savio are going to attack Outfit territory.”
Fabiano nodded. “They won’t rest until they’ve saved Remo or they know he’s dead. And even then they won’t stop.”
NINO
When we arrived at the Russo mansion in Kansas City, Stefano waited for us, looking like he hadn’t slept since his brother had been killed by Dante Cavallaro’s men. Savio and I supported Adamo who was too exhausted to walk on his own.
“I prepared a room and one of my doctors is around in case you need help,” Stefano said with a curt nod. He’d officially taken over as Underboss only two days ago and his territory was already in uproar. It was his battle to fight. If he wanted his men’s respect, he’d have to gain it by himself.
We put Adamo into one of the guest rooms, then moved into the liquor lounge with Stefano where we settled on the leather seats. “One of my Captains has been stretching out his feelers, trying to get intel on who organized the attack on the race.”
Savio’s mouth curled. “Do you really think that’s something we give a fuck about right now? We need to save our brother.”
Stefano took a sip from the Brandy and gave us a tight-lipped smile. “If you let me finish, you’ll see that it’s relevant. My man told me that you didn’t manage to crush all rats when you and Remo claimed power, Nino. Some rats left the sinking ship before you could get them, and apparently they found a new home in the Outfit.”
My eyes narrowed. Remo and I had tried to kill all of our father’s loyal men and those that weren’t loyal to anyone but themselves, but chaos had reigned in the first months of our time in Vegas. We’d wasted resources on capturing our mother and let more important men slip through our fingers. Yet, we’d hunted most of them down in the months that followed. “Who is it?”
“It’s a group of men who followed the Eneide brothers.”
“Carmine,” I muttered. Remo had cut Cosimo’s throat for parading around as a Capo for a while but Carmine had taken his leave quickly. “He led the attack?”
“He was part of the attack. They don’t have any say in the Outfit. They’re tolerated but nobody trusts turncoats.”
“Most of the information they have must be outdated, right? We changed so much since we claimed power,” Savio said.
I nodded slowly. They didn’t pose a threat to our power but they could prove to be a thorn in our sides. Eventually we’d have to rip them out.
“If you’re planning a hit on Cavallaro, I want to be in on it. My men are riled up because of my brother’s death. And to be honest, some because I’m their boss now. They want blood, and I want to give it to them, and preferably not my own.”
“You don’t want to avenge your brother?” Savio asked, downing the brandy.
“I want revenge, trust me,” Stefano said with a grim smile. “For my brother, and for being stuck in this hellhole I did my best to escape.”
Savio scoffed. “You’d rather stay our Romancer than rule over Kansas?”
“What? I’d rather fuck women who worship me in the city of sin than order around old-fashioned men twice my age who think they know everything better in this boring hick town? What do you think?”
“I think you need to focus on the task at hand,” I said firmly. “I want information on every possible place they could take my brother. I want intel on every MC chapter in Cavallaro’s territory.”
Stefano took a sip of his whisky, pulled out his phone and called his Captains.
Savio and I studied the map of Dante’s territory that Fabiano had prepared for us. We couldn’t rest until a plan was in place to save our brother.
Savio and I had been trying to come up with a viable option to save Remo all night but with our limited information about his whereabouts we didn’t have much to work with. Adamo had been sent off with our plane to Las Vegas, where he’d be safer than being so close to Outfit territory. He needed to heal, physically and emotionally before he should get involved in any fights.
My phone rang and the number from the Sugar Trap flashed on the screen. It was unusual for them to call me when they could talk to Fabiano who was closer, so I picked up. “What’s up? We’re busy here.”
“I know, I’m sorry, boss. A woman claiming she was Serafina called and wanted to talk to you specifically, said it was urgent.”
It took my brain a moment to process his words. “Did she give you her number?”
“Yeah.”
“Then give it to me.”
I ended the call and took a moment to straighten my thoughts.
“What’s going on?” Savio asked.
“Serafina tried to reach me. She wants me to call her back.”
Savio sank down slowly. “Do you think she wants to tell us he’s…he’s dead?”
I stared down at my cell. “I don’t know. Maybe they’ll make us listen when they end it.” I curled one of my hands into a fist, trying to focus on the muscles in my fingers, on their flexing, instead of the throbbing in my chest, the tightness of my throat. My gaze lingered on my scars, and I sucked in a sharp breath through my nose.
Savio closed his eyes, pressing his mouth together. “I’ll hunt them all down, every fucker.”
After another deep breath, I dialed Serafina’s number, trying to find my calm but my insides seemed to twist and turn.
The moment she picked up, I asked, “Is he dead?”
Savio pressed his palms against his temples, his eyes reflecting the same fear I thought myself incapable of.
“Not yet,” she said tightly.
Savio and I landed with the helicopter where we were supposed to meet Serafina. I gave the pilot the sign to keep everything prepared for immediate take-off in case this was a trap.
“I don’t trust her,” Savio said, scanning our surroundings, gun in hand.
“Neither do I.”
Savio nodded. “It’s a trap I’m willing to step into if there’s a tiny chance we get Remo back.”
A car pulled up, a Mercedes limousine with tinted windows. I climbed out of the helicopter and so did Savio, pointing our guns at the car.
The driver’s door opened and Serafina got out, a gun in her hand. I motioned for Savio to stay near the aircraft while I headed for the car. Her barrel was directed at me, but I was the better shot.
She watched me then glanced over to Savio before she sighed, lowered her gun and walked around to the passenger side. I stayed a few steps back, still wary of her intentions. Savio came up behind me, as usual bad at following orders.
“Will you help me? Or do you want Remo to die?” Serafina hissed, glaring at us.
I took a step closer and peered inside the car—spotting my brother, covered in blood. I sheathed my gun. He was unconscious, cut and bruised and beaten, but breathing. I wedged my hands under his arms and Savio gripped his legs. We needed to get him to a hospital quickly.
A high-pitched wail rang out. Tension shot through my body at the unexpected sound and my head shot up, toward the source of the noise. A infant, a girl judging from her pink clothes and longer, slightly curled hair. Beside her a second baby woke up in his seat, a little boy with dark eyes, almost black. Remo’s eyes. My gaze darted between the boy and the girl, twins— both Remo’s children, no doubt.
Savio inhaled sharply beside me. “Holy fuck. They are Remo’s.”
Remo was a father. I was an uncle. Two new Falcones. Kiara would be ecstatic to have them in the mansion.
I looked toward Serafina who seemed frozen. Something had shifted in her posture. She was tense, protective, ready to pounce if we dared to do something to her children.
She needn’t worry. Never again.
Remo began to tremble in my hold. “Quick,” I said and Savio sprang into motion, helping me carry our brother over to the helicopter.
We put him down on the floor of the chopper and I crouched beside him, touching his throat.
“I’ll ask Serafina if she needs help with the babies,” Savio said, stunned.
“Do that.”
“They’re coming home with us, right?”
I glanced up at Savio. “It’s where they belong.”
Savio turned and headed toward Serafina while I checked Remo’s chest for broken ribs, finding two, then felt his arms. Cuts littered his skin, some of them opening old wounds, others creating fresh ones.
I sighed. This was the first time Remo was this helpless. I quickly attached him to a drip to make up for the blood loss he’d suffered.
I’d checked every inch of his body for injuries when Savio and Serafina appeared in front of the helicopter, each of them carrying a baby.
Savio held up the little boy to me and I took him. His dark eyes peered at me, bringing back memories of raising Adamo. Serafina and Savio got in with the little girl then settled on the opposite bench with the babies. I hadn’t been sure how I’d feel for a baby. I’d always cared for my brothers, and I cared about Kiara, but I didn’t know if I’d feel the same way for a baby. Yet, seeing those babies who looked like Remo, like Adamo when he was a baby, I felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness.
Remo never considered having kids, but he’d protect them with all he had, from this day on until his death. I knelt down beside him again, feeling his pulse, needing the reassurance that his heart was still beating.
I wouldn’t let him die.