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I flip him off and walk away, and when I get outside I realize I’m smiling, which is unacceptable. I wipe it away, remind myself that Ronan’s an annoying dick, and stomp back to my car.
Chapter 6
Ronan
The Capo’s operation is an hour outside of the city. His garage and junkyard are surrounded by a big chain-link fence, and this mangy-looking dog patrols the open spaces. It’s exactly like she said it’d be, and Niall frowns through his binoculars as the rest of the men get into position.
“And the fucking Santoro girl just brought this to you?” He shakes his head and looks at me. “She’s got an ulterior motive. No doubt in my mind.”
“Of course she does.” I don’t mention that I know it already: she’s dead broke and desperate to avoid going homeless. “But what’s it matter? She’s right and we’re about to build a nice little business for our family.”
His eyebrows raise. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I lean back in my seat and smile to myself. This is the part I didn’t tell Valentina about. Her plan is all about breaking into this place and taking all the cash and any valuables—but that’s thinking too small.
“Her little Capo friend down there has a good thing going, and you said it yourself, the cousins think I’ve been too soft. Well, we’re not here to rob the guy. We’re here to take him over.”
Niall looks surprised, but he finally laughs and raises the binoculars again. “Fucking devious.”
“His network won’t give a shit who’s writing their checks, so long as everyone gets paid and nobody gets a bullet to the head. Well, except for him.”
“The cousins will like it. Another revenue stream.”
“That’s the big thinking that makes me such a wonderful boss.” I get a text from Seamus on my encrypted phone: everyone’s ready to go.
I wait to send the greenlight. I let myself savor this moment, because Valentina was right. Her plan makes total sense, and there’s no doubt in my mind that it’ll work. It was hard, sitting around that bar and watching her work like a good little office drone, but I might’ve played up the ADHD a little harder than necessary, mostly to see what she was made of.
And she came through. A well-thought-out and solid operation.
Yes, we’ve all got ulterior motives, I can’t deny it.
“Let’s do this,” I say and send the text that sets the fireworks off.
In this case, thefireworksconsist of a very large truck driving very fast followed by two more trucks filled with heavily armed men. Meanwhile, Niall, six other trusted soldiers, and I hit the back of the place. We toss rugs over the barbed wire and climb, and when the guards start shooting at the front gate, we’re there to take them out from behind. Turns out the dog’s not even aproblem: the mangy animal barks like wild but doesn’t actually try to bite anyone.
Taking out security takes all of five minutes. We leave their bodies in plain view as we storm the garages and find the chop shop workers hunkered down behind their ripped-up vehicles. I have Seamus and his troops zip-tie them up, all according to Valentina’s vision, and kick in the back office.
Former Santoro Capo Sal Villanueva’s got dark, slicked-back hair, a grease-stained dress shirt, and a gut that doesn’t seem interested in staying contained. The guy’s the definition of a stereotypical Italian mafioso. He’s got his arm in a safe, and he’s in the middle of shoving cash into a bag when we find him. Basically, it’s a pants-around-the-ankles situation. Valentina expected more of a fight from him, but the old Capo clearly isn’t what he used to be.
“Take a seat, Sal,” I tell him, holding a gun aimed at his face. He’s smart and also a criminal, so he does what he thinks will keep him alive.
He sits down and starts flipping. “I can give you names and numbers. All the guys that work with me. All my buyers. But they’re in my head, you hear me? You kill me, you get shit.”
“Who says I want your buyers, huh?” I smile at him and sit in the chair across from his desk. “Come on, Sal, think for a minute. What’s an Irish prick like me doing here?”
“I don’t know.” He’s visibly sweating. I don’t blame him. Valentina said once he was beaten, all I had to do was apply a little pressure, and he’d give me whatever I wanted. I decide she’s right.
“Tell me about Valentina Santoro.”
He’s not good at hiding his shock. He sits still, not moving, and glances toward the door. Outside in the garage, Niall’s overseeing Seamus and his guys as they comb the place for anything worth selling.
“What do you want with the Don’s daughter?”
“Former Don. Very dead Don. Tell me what you know about her.”
“She’s smart,” he says and frowns at me. His eyebrows knit together. “Don’t tell me she’s involved with this?”
“Focus up, Sal. Tell me about her.”
