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“You can take me with you, instead,” I inform him, raising my hands, then opening my suit jacket to show I don’t have a hidden gun holstered. “I imagine all Five Families and beyond would talk about the man who captured the famed Reaper for months, if not years.” I nudge Isa closer to the rest of our group positioned behind the table in the process of slowly rounding toward Antonelli, hands still raised. I keep my eyes glued to him as I move, watching the way my words affect him. He’s like a kid at a petting zoo who’s been told he gets to keep one of the ponies.
Mazzi stares at me, his face contorting in confusion. “The fuck are you doing here, Farina?” He comically looks from my neck to my face and back again, the dumbass taking forever to put two and two together. “What, you telling me DiAngelo has a twin, and that twin’s been masquerading as the Reaper?” He throws his head back with ruckus laughter.
“You’ve figured out the big secret. And once you take me with you, the entire syndicate will beg to know how you did it.” I move a tiny bit closer.
His eyes brighten as he releases a humorless huff. “They all sat around with their thumbs up their asses—no idea where to look. But I knew,” he gloats proudly. “I knew if I watched Sofia long enough, she’d lead me to the Russians. My uncle Sal always told me she never could stay away from those Communist bastards.” Mazzi sneers in Michael’s direction before a sly grin returns to his face. “They should have known better than to bet against a Sicilian when death is on the line.”
The asshole is stroking his own ego so hard that he’s practically jacking himself off in front of us. It’s disgusting to witness, but a key part of sneaking past his defenses.
“You caught us off guard, that’s for sure.” I ease closer until I’m only a couple of feet away from him. “Take me with you and let the rest go. They’re not involved in this.”
He cackles. “Why would I do that? I’m the one in control here.”
“Are you, though?” I ask quietly.
“Of course, I am.” His smile falters for a fraction of a second. “Isa, come over here.”
“There’s no reason for her to go with you. She’s no longer a part of your arrangement. She’ll be marrying me, instead.”
What I wouldn’t give to capture the look of horrified disgust that warps his face. “No, it’s all been agreed to. She’s marrying me.”
The thing is, I don’t need to convince him about Isa or who’s in control or even whether I’m armed. The entire conversation has been a ploy to distract him, which it has done spectacularly. I’m now close enough to end tonight’s entertainment with minimal drama, though I fear dinner will have to be rescheduled.
It’s a pity. Isa seemed to be truly enjoying herself.
A sprinkle of irritation makes my next actions that much more satisfying. My right hand slips to my lower back where my tactical straight blade is holstered along my belt. I never leave home without at least two knives on me at all times. While I prefer my karambit for hand-to-hand battles, the straight blade is better for quick kills.
That’s my goal here. Quick. Clean. Over.
I force Mazzi’s gun toward the wall with my left hand before stabbing my knife into his side three times in quick succession. The strikes angle upward under his ribs, each in slightly different locations, to ensure maximum damage to his vital organs.
Confident in my results, I don’t bother waiting to ensure he’s dead before moving on to my next victim. The guard closest to Mazzi gets my blade through the side of his throat, then into his gut. I’m careful not to hit the carotid artery. That shit’s messy.
I see Antonelli hit the ground out of the corner of my eye, but I’m focused on victim number three. He’s had enough time to mount a defense, except he’s inexperienced and gripped in panic. Eyes wide, he simply stares in horror.
I yank his gun from him and slam it against his temple. His lucky day. He’ll wake with a headache, but he’ll be alive.
Stepping over the mounting bodies, I go back to deal with the mutant, but the second my stare lands on him, a screech from Isa stops me in my tracks.
“No! Not Fedele.” She hurries over and stands between the giant and me, much to my dismay.
“Isa, what the fuck?”
She holds firm, spreading her arms in defense of the man. “He’s not like Mazzi, I swear. Please don’t kill him.”
The curly-haired giant holds his hands up in surrender. “I don’t know how to fight. When you look like me, you don’t have to.”
“Fine, but you come over here away from him,” I instruct Isa. Once I’m comfortable that she’s safe, I use a cloth napkin from the table to clean my blade and sheath it. “Dinner’s over. We need to get the fuck out of here.”
Nico gets out his phone. “You four go. I’ll deal with this mess.”
He and Michael exchange respectful nods. I usher Isa into the hall toward the back door leading into the alleyway with Michael and Evie close behind us. As we hurry toward the main street, I place a quick call to Drake, instructing him to have an enclosed transport boat waiting for us at the pier where we arrived. I end the call as we round the corner and come face-to-face with DiAngelo.
It’s been so long since I’ve been around him that it’s disorienting to see my face on another man. I lurch to a halt, the others piling up behind me.
“What’s happening?” Evie asks, followed by a quiet, “Oh,” when she sees my twin ten feet away.
“Come on, no reason to stop now,” I murmur, leading our group in the opposite direction.
