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I glance at the men around me—Sal, Orlando, and the six soldiers hand-picked for this mission. Their faces are set in grim resolve, mirroring my own. We’ve been through countless operations together, but none quite as personal as this.
The thought of the woman I love in their hands makes my blood boil. But I force the rage down, channeling it into cold, calculated focus. She needs me sharp, and sane, not blinded by fury.
“Thirty seconds,” Cade’s voice crackles through our earpieces.
“Copy that.” I take a deep breath, centering myself, and then I say to the men, “They’re in the basement. The plan is to slip in unnoticed once security is disabled.”
It feels surreal, trusting someone with not only zero loyalties to the Outfit but an outright enemy. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Sal, who looks totally composed, except for the finger slowly tapping on his knee. Orlando’s eyes are flat and cold as he nibbles furiously on his toothpick.
Yep, all three of us are barely keeping it together. It occurs to me that because of our overwhelming personal stakes, Sal, Orlando, and I should probably not be the ones sent on this mission. We should have gone to Boston and let Nico and his own team deal with Philly. Yet wild horses couldn’t drag any of us away from here tonight.
Cade’s voice comes on again. “Ten seconds.” He counts down and then says, “You’re clear for five minutes. Security’s down.”
We sprint toward the building, pausing to aim and take down the guards.
Just as we reach the front steps, a commotion erupts from inside. The sound of breaking glass, followed by gunshots, shatters the night’s silence.
“What the fuck?” Cade’s voice crackles in my ear. “Something’s going down in there. There are heat signatures all over the place. Activity is now in the front room, not the basement.”
“What?” I hiss.
Just then, there’s another gunshot, followed by a bloodcurdling scream.
Everyone freezes.
That’s Addy. I can pick out her voice in a crowd full of people.
Something snaps inside me, and I bark, “Change of plans. Forget slipping in unnoticed. Speed is the priority now. We crash the party.”
My men nod tersely and instantly take formation to attack head-on.
“No, wait, Vitelli. Do not engage yet.” Cade’s voice comes on, this time like an unpleasant screeching in my brain. I’d almost forgotten the guy was there. Must be the sudden rush of adrenaline bathing my brain.
“I’ll take it from here, Quinn. I don’t need a road map anymore.”
“Are you kidding me? Dumber, if you fuck up my mission—”
“Your mission?” I echo. I swear whatever this guy smokes must be top-notch.
“Surely, you know crashing in could spook those savages into killing the girls. I was under the impression that you needed those women alive—”
And Addy is still screaming.
I’ve heard enough. “I get the picture, Quinn. You can fuck off now. Thank you.”
He goes silent for a beat, then scoffs in disbelief. “You’re welcome, asshole.” And the line goes dead.
Cade’s exit feels like a tight knot has just been loosened in my gut. While I appreciate the man’s help, when shit really hits the fan, like it no doubt has right now, going by my woman’s anguished screams, which are loud enough to hear from fifty yards away, I am incapable of following anything else apart from my instincts. “We crash in,” I tell my men, who all nod curtly. “Now!”
We reach the building, all pretense of stealth abandoned. Sal, Orlando, and I head for the main entrance while the rest surround the place.
As we near the main entrance, I steel myself for what we might find inside.
“Addy, please be fucking okay,” I grit out a silent prayer, allowing myself one moment of vulnerability before the soldier in me takes over.
The door gives at the slightest twist of the knob, and I can almost hear the collective sigh of relief from Sal and Orlando. Our weapons at the ready and eye shields pulled on, we move in as a unit.
Thankfully, the hallway is short and unlit.
