“Hmm,” Emma glared at the frying pan as if it could talk back to her. Ace laughed softly. It was odd for him to meet a woman who couldn’t cook. She was keen to learn, though.
His wife was slowly swirling pancake batter and laying thick slices of bacon in oil when he heard his phone beep. It took him a moment to find it. His days of having it attached to his hip were over … he was no longer on call to the family.
When he finally flicked the screen open, he saw it was a text. Ace thought it couldn’t be anything terribly important since the families were at peace.
Sort of, at least. I can’t imagine I’m going to get called out to shoot anyone today.
When he tapped the message, his blood ran cold. It was from an unnamed number which meant it was untraceable.
Hi! It’s Tracey on my new phone. I just wanted you to know there are people coming to look at the studio today. They are the big guns, not the little guys. The other family isn’t interested. You better get on this right away.
Ace stared at the message. The nameTraceywas code, meaning it was from someone close to the Don, and the wording meant someone was looking at the family very hard.
He felt the cold feeling deepening as he went over the code.Big gunsmeant the FBI, not the ordinary police force. Theother familymeant the Fontanas.
So the FBI is coming for the Moretti family.
Ace had a sinking feeling as he thought about all the crimes that had been blatantly spread across the streets the last few weeks. Of course, the FBI would be getting their hands in it sooner or later.
Especially since both families had ties in the police force and quite a bit of evidence had mysteriously disappeared over the past weeks.
“Fuck,” Ace muttered.
“What?” Emma asked, jumping a little. “I didn’t burn anything yet.”
“It’s okay, babe. Don’t worry.”
Ace didn’t take his eyes off his phone screen as he stood and took his phone to the nearby window. He’d had Emma’s apartment beautifully fixed up after the sniper shooting, with new frames and curtains to match the décor. They had discussed moving to his place after the wedding, but when it came time to give up the lease, neither could do it. That apartment held all of their firsts.
There was only one person to call in this situation, and it was his cousin, Krys.
Krys was the most effective and ruthless hitman that anyone had ever seen … in any family. He had been working down south in another city with his exact whereabouts unknown to protect him and ensure he acquired his target.
He was something of a legend, known to pull off impossible hits. It didn’t matter how well guarded his target was, Krys could slip through their bedroom like a shadow and kill them silently without anyone even knowing he was there.
No one knew him very well. He attended family gatherings but didn’t talk. The women of the family seemed sympathetic to him, as if they felt sorry for him in some way. It was true his entire life had just been violence and death. When he went to the family gatherings, he usually hung out by himself, quietly nursing a drink far away from the main crowd. By the time someone went to include him in the festivities, he’d be gone.
Rumor was he’d made his first kill at twelve years old
He slinks in and out of places like a shadow cat. As if he’s part of the darkness.
He wasn’t just sly and secretive, he was brutal and effective. They needed all of Krys’s skills on this one.
His cousin answered on the first ring.
“Ace,” Krys said, his voice low.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No,” Krys’s voice was impatient, almost hostile. “What do you want?”
“I have a job for you,” Ace said, trying not to sound impatient himself.
The last thing you want to do to a well-known assassin is piss him off.
“What kind of job?” Krys said, bored. “I thought we weren’t killing each other anymore.”
“Well, yeah,” Ace agreed, deciding not to share his theory on how it was only a matter of time until they were trying to kill each other again. “It’s not a hit on the other families.”