1
Rafael
Sixteen months ago.
The greatest shock didn’t come from walking up to a building stained with blood and tears, but from the cold and stark weather as snow drifted over the frozen ground.
Why did anyone insist on living in a place where the air hurt their face? And where the fuck was the sun?
The warehouse loomed in front of us as we left the rich, comforting warmth of the Ferrari. The massive structure might have blended in with the other abandoned commercial properties in the area, had it not been surrounded by an eerie feeling of death. Even in a graveyard for buildings, nothing could disguise the ghosts that lurked around Bellandi's famed warehouse. I didn't know that I believed in spirits, despite my mother's belief in the afterlife, but even I felt all the tortured souls who clung to this place where they had drawn their final breaths.
It certainly didn't help that they'd probably choked on their own blood as they fought for air.
An ordinary person might have wondered how Matteo conducted his wet work in such an obvious location without fear of repercussions, too lost in their grand illusions of being safe in their first world country, where crime couldn't happen to them and bad things only happened to strangers in the night.
Most people were naïve enough to believe the police could ever truly be a threat to men like us.
Then again, most people were fucking idiots.
At my side, Calix ran a hand through his hair, looking just as aggravated as I imagined he had to feel. While fighting in Matteo Bellandi's war was a necessary duty born out of allegiance, nothing could stop the impatience that came with knowing only a ticking clock stood between him and the girl he'd pledged to marry walking down the aisle to another man.
His rumpled suit was a stark contrast to the smooth lines of mine. In other circumstances, I might have reprimanded him to remember that people were always watching us and judging any imperfections they found. It was unnecessary to give them any more ammunition to work with.
After a long flight—even in the comfort of my jet—and knowing that he was mere hours away from his Thalia? I mostly couldn't fault him for it.
"You could have at least changed before we got off the plane," I argued, quirking a brow up when he groaned at me in response. "Need I remind you, Matteo Bellandi is my ally. He needs to beyours.You will be far more directly affected by his friendship than I will, given the proximity of Philadelphia to Chicago. Ibiza is an entire world away."
He scoffed in response. One of the few men who dared to show such impudence in my presence. But Calix had come to Ibiza when he wasn’t yet a man, his family banished from the city they called home in a violent uprising by the other families that had once been friends. He quickly became the closest thing I had to a brother.
"Right, because you don't have world domination on the brain," he said, falling into place behind me. I touched my hands to the front doors of the warehouse, probably taking my life in my hand as I grasped the knob and turned it. The heavy steel door heaved open with a groan, and I stepped into the vast, open space of the main warehouse.
"Doesn't look like they're here, after all," Calix grunted, glancing around the room. I pressed a finger to my lips before pointing down to the trail of blood splatter that led to the back hallway. Pulling my cell phone from my back pocket, I dialed Matteo's number one more time, hoping to alert him to our presence before it led to a bloody standoff.
The line connected as he finally answered my calls. "You're as bad as one of Simon's one-night stands today. Won't take a fucking hint. What do you want?" Matteo grumbled into the phone. The sound of a man's pained whimpers filled the background noise.
It seemed we hadn't arrived too late to enjoy the fun.
"Well, I suppose if I'm not wanted, I can take my men back to Ibiza," I drawled.
"You're early," Matteo returned. As if I didn't know that.
"Lorenzo indicated things were progressing faster than expected, and you might need assistance sooner. I live to please. Now, where are you hiding in your blood-soaked warehouse? I suppose we could play a game of hide and seek, so long as Ryker promises not to throw a hatchet at me when I win."
"Freezer at the back," Matteo grunted, disconnecting the call.
“You’re no fun,” I chuckled, glancing to Calix, who studied me with a demented smile.
"Wonderful. Like Chicago in February isn't cold enough, now we have to go inside a fucking freezer," Calix grumbled as I made my way for the hall at the back. With the worn edges covered in rust, the freezer door didn't look capable of functioning. But sure enough, Matteo stood outside the door with one of his men, waiting.
My eyes met Matteo's first, his gaze as hardened as mine. "It's good to see you, Rafael," he said. The man at his side widened his eyes, staring at me in shock for a moment before he snapped his face back into an expressionless mask. Not yet broken. If the mask needed practice, then his training hadn't been as thorough as what Matteo and I had lived.
"You mean it's good to know you have reinforcements," I said, my voice lacking all inflection. Matteo was perhaps one of the closest things I had to a friend, but that didn't mean we were warm and fuzzy. We had a mutual understanding. We stayed out of one another's way and only offered support or opinions when necessary.
He hadn't called and invited me to his wedding by any means. Though I had heard about it through the grapevine and been shocked. In our lives, women were a weakness.
I couldn't imagine any single woman ever being worth risking my life for.
"Mostly that. Just make sure your men behave while they're in my city," Matteo ordered, but there was no animosity to his tone. Our rules were fairly similar, though he was slightly more strict on protecting women. I didn't allow human trafficking in my organization, but I didn't protect people who weren't my concern either.