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“Who scared her?” He dragged the knife down the guy’s face and leaned in to speak to him in a low tone. “When I take your worthless life, I’m going to cut off your head and have it delivered to your family. It doesn’t matter where they live. I’ll find them. I’ll make it my life’s work. They’ll get the head, and then, that night, while they cry and mourn your loss, I’ll slip into their homes, nice and quiet, and do the same to them. Then I’ll send their heads to their families…and in time, I’ll have wiped out everyone who held even a drop of your blood from the world.”
I swallowed a jagged protest at those truly horrifying words.
Renato wasn’t home right now, and I couldn’t stop this monster on a mission.
The man whimpered, and Renato smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to tell them exactly why they are dying before they go.” With that, he ripped his knife across the man’s neck, and blood sprayed against his shoulder and cheek. He didn’t even flinch. He looked like a real live demon at that moment.
He stood, surveying his handiwork, and took a gun from his waistband. He pumped two shots into the guy whose hand had been blown off.
I couldn’t look away, even though I wanted to. It felt like if I did, he’d disappear and I’d wake up, delirious from dehydration on the basement floor, still handcuffed.
Renato crouched beside me, cleaning the knife on his pants before carefully cutting my bonds. Then he pulled a small pack from his back. He’d barely opened the water before I was reaching for it and gulping it down.
“Go slow, you might bring it up again,” he muttered, watching me with that same dark murderous look that warned that his revenge killing spree was far from over. He went back to the pack and pulled out a dark sweater, threading my injured wrists through the sleeves like I was made of glass. The sudden warmth made me shiver even more for a second. My arms were coming back to life and they hurt like hell.
“We have to move,” he said after a moment of watching me, taking stock of every shake and sigh. He stood and then pulled me up carefully into his arms.
“Where are we going?” I asked quietly, unsure if I was talking to my husband right now or the demon who wore his face.
“To finish this,” he said gently.
It was such a contrast to the way he’d just acted, I was transfixed by the sight. My husband was measured and calm. Controlled in all ways. Not anymore. He was as close to savage as I’d ever seen a man. The contrast was only more dramatic in a man like Renato, who was a master of his emotions. I clung to his neck and pressed my face into the bloodstained skin there.
He took me out into the freezing dawn. Sonny stood outside, gun in hand, his face bloodied and battered. The smile of relief that passed across his familiar face tugged at my heart. The back of the property was quiet, and I could see a jagged hole in the wire fence that bordered the snowy woods. Had my husband cut his way in here, sneaking past numerous armed guards, with only one man as his backup? We passed by the side of the house, heading around to the front. Clearly, sneaking in the back while attacking the front had been part of the plan, if the chaos that we walked into was anything to go by. I wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted me around the corner.
The grounds were strewn with fallen men. The sound of gunshots echoed all around. The snow that had fallen was bloodied.
De Sanctis men had filled the yard, crouched behind different things for cover. Their cars had busted open the gates, and the sides of the black SUVs had taken fire.
The cartel members hid behind the walls of the porch, and I could only assume, other places around the property. Shots were exchanged in both directions. We stepped into the shadows beside the house, and stopped where there was a vehicle parked, providing excellent cover.
“Well, Giada?”
Renato’s voice surprised me, until I spied the discreet headset in his ear.
“I’ve got her. Where are they?”
I couldn’t hear her answer.
“Where’s Elio?” I wondered, peering around at the shadows and the men crouching, staying out of the line of fire. It looked like an impasse. Renato’ssottocapowas never far from his side.
“He’s on his way,” Renato said.
“De Sanctis!” A loud shout echoed around the grounds. It sounded like it came from above us.
There, surrounded by his men, on a balcony overlooking the scene, was Juan. His men were arranged in a human shield around him.
“Are you going to hide away or face me like a man?” Juan goaded.
Renato made no move to walk out into the vulnerable space in front of the house. Instead, he tilted his head back and shouted upward.
“So, itisyou? You’re the head of the Castillos? And you didn’t even have the balls to own up to it when you strolled into my warehouse downtown. Have you always been a coward?” Renato challenged.
Juan replied immediately, annoyance in his tone. “Not a coward, just smarter than you. I wanted to see your operation, and I did. Interesting stuff. Maybe we’ll keep some elements when we take over from you. The days of the De Sanctis Mafia’s rule are over.”
“Is that right?” Renato prodded.
I could hear Giada murmuring in the headset and wondered what the hell she was saying.
