Men of Mayhem (27 page)

D bolted to her feet. “Shut the fuck up about my father!”

A large man in dress pants and a black T-shirt appeared by the redhead’s side, his dark eyes warning D to lower her fist. D glared back at him, daring him to throw the first punch, because she would have the fucking last one.

“Ooh, you’re a live wire,” the redhead said, sounding pleased with herself.

D’s eyes snapped back to her. “What is your game, lady?” she growled out.

“I like to know everything about my enemies.”

“I didn’t even fucking know you a few minutes ago, so piss off.”

The bitch smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m leaving. Though, be a dear and pass on a message to the Santini for me. Tell the Don he should kick you and the rest of the Vipers out of his house or he’ll bring the wrath of the Black Russian down upon his
famiglia’s
heads.”

“Is this why you’re here? You’re working for that bastard? Well, you can tell that psycho my sisterhood will make him pay for what he did to us.”

“I work for no one. I’m my own boss. But the next time I see the Black Russian, I’ll be sure to tell him what you said.” She put her cocktail down on the bar and rose to her feet. “Stay safe, D…until we meet again.” She wriggled her fingers at her, then disappeared into the crowd with the large man, leaving D fuming and wishing she’d rearranged the bitch’s face. She made a mental note to question the Santini about the tall redhead, wanting to know
exactly
who the bitch was.

She turned back to grab her jacket off the counter, intent on finding out ASAP. A scruffy-looking man with a sunburned complexion sat down next to her. “You gonna have that?” he asked, pointing at the vodka.

She shook her head, not wanting anything from the woman. “You can have it.”

“
Grazie
.” The man snatched it up and skulled the drink within seconds.

D went to leave, stopping as the man brought his hands to his throat, looking like he was choking. Losing balance, he tumbled off his barstool, crashing to the floor. D dropped down to help him, but instead whipped her hands back as he started frothing at the mouth. Not knowing what to do, she jumped up and yelled at the bartender, “Ring for help!”

Within seconds, the bartender started yelling into a phone, sounding like he was talking to the emergency services. Then he was vaulting over the bar, going to the man’s aid. But it was too late, the poor guy no longer moving. His face had gone a bluish-white, while his veins stuck out, creating a macabre pattern across his pale flesh.

“What the hell happened?” the bartender said, staring at the man with a shocked expression.

D focused on the foamy substance dribbling down the man’s stubbly chin. “He looks like he’s been poisoned, because that’s not a natural death.”

“
Merda
,” the bartender said, saying shit in Italian.

“More like
murder
,” she added, the words sounding similar. D’s gaze moved to the tumbler the dead man had drunk out of—
her drink
. She jumped up and grabbed it off the bar, sniffing at the glass. A smell she couldn’t put a finger on greeted her, sweet but oddly sour at the same time.

She turned to the bartender. “Did you see anyone touch my glass apart from the dead man?”

“Only that redhead. Though, she wasn’t a real redhead. A strand of black hair fell free from her wig. She tucked it back under, giving me a glare when she noticed me watching.”

D cursed herself for not having noticed, the woman obviously an assassin. The Black Russian would’ve hired her to kill D, her former employer a vindictive man. She’d escaped his palace with her fellow Vipers after he’d murdered their leader and tried to slaughter the rest of them, the battle with his guards wiping a lot of her sisterhood out.

“What happened?” a man barked behind her.

D turned to find two soldiers staring at her, the bigger one repeating the question. He was a hairy guy, with an odd shaped beard and a crooked nose.

“Someone tried to kill me.” She looked back down at the dead man, knowing that could’ve been her lying there.

“Who?”

“I don’t know her name, but when I find out…the bitch is fucking dead.”

Irene

Irene climbed into the back seat of her black SUV, hoping the Viper had drunk the vodka. The woman deserved to die for touching her Vincenzo. It had taken all of her self-control to sit and smile at the Viper, instead of ramming a knife into the woman’s chest for even daring to go near her man, let alone touch him.

Two of her soldiers slid in next to her. The one who’d protected her from the Viper closed the car door. He was a muscular man, with a shaved head and dark beard. “What next,
signora
?” Bernardo asked. “Home?”

She shook her head, wanting to make a move on Vincenzo soon. “Call in the snipers. Once the patrons have left, get them to take out the Santini soldiers guarding the building.”

“What time do you want it to happen?”

“Five in the morning. The staff will be gone by then, with only the soldiers
needing to be eliminated. Once they’re out of the way, we’ll walk right in and take Vincenzo.” She smiled, looking forward to returning him to his rightful place—
underneath her.

Bernardo pulled out his phone and called through to base, ordering the snipers. After finishing, he hung up and refocused on her. “What do we do until five?”

“We’ll sit and wait.” She knocked on the barrier between them and the driver. It wound down, the driver’s fat face appearing. “Drive one or two streets over,” she said. “Make sure you park in a place that won’t get us noticed. We’ll be staying for a few hours.”

The driver nodded, the barrier between them once more going up. As the SUV kicked into gear, Irene removed the red wig and shook her long black hair out, amused that the stupid Viper hadn’t realized who she was. But then again, she looked nothing like her old photos, her plastic surgeon having done a brilliant job.

She pulled out her compact from her bag and removed her pale blue contacts, revealing her emerald-green eyes. They were permanent contacts that had been surgically attached to her brown irises after she’d found out green was Vincenzo’s favorite color. She then wiped off the layer of makeup she’d used to hollow out her cheeks. Once she’d finished cleaning her face, she reapplied a different layer of makeup, this one highlighting her best features, so she looked even nicer for Vincenzo.

After she’d fixed herself up, she leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, ordering her soldiers to wake her up at five.

Someone
shook Irene’s shoulder, rousing her. She opened her eyes and looked to her left, seeing Bernardo sitting next to her, the other soldier gone.

“Where’s Filippo?” she asked.

“Up front, and it’s five a.m.,” Bernardo replied. “I also got a call confirming that the snipers have taken out the guards.”

“
Bravo
. We’ll make our move now.” Irene tapped the barrier between the front and the back. “Move to the destination.”

“As you wish,
signora
,” the driver replied.

The engine started up, the driver pulling away from the curb. A minute later he stopped outside the back of
H20
. Her soldiers climbed out of the SUV. Leaning back in, Bernardo held a hand out for Irene, her personal bodyguard a natural gentleman, unlike the majority of the oafs who worked for her family.

Gripping onto his hand, she pushed out of the SUV, smiling at the sight before her. Two Santini soldiers were lying in front of the back exit, stone-cold dead.

“Very nice,” she said, impressed with the snipers, the shots having hit both men in the forehead. “Remind me to give those snipers a bonus.”

“
Sì
,
signora
,” Bernardo replied, his expression impassive. She could never tell what he was thinking, Bernardo having the best poker-face she’d ever seen. He resumed talking. “The guards out front have also been eliminated.” He bent down and searched the dead men’s pockets, finding a set of keys. He pushed up and focused on his cousin, the two men looking similar, their hard faces and muscular bodies giving them a formidable presence. He passed the keys to Filippo. “On three, open the door. I’ll take out anyone in the hallway. Then you go in and sweep the rooms.”

Filippo nodded and did as instructed, whipping the door open on the count of three. Bernardo fired off a shot, the silencer canceling out the sound. Irene peered around him, seeing a soldier collapse. Filippo entered the hallway, momentarily blocking her view. He started checking the rooms, coming to a stop at the band room, the man Bernardo had shot lying next to it. Filippo stepped over him and tried the door handle. He let go a moment later and signaled for them to approach him.

Bernardo stepped through the doorway, instructing Irene to stay behind him. She followed him into the corridor, barely containing her excitement at seeing Vincenzo again. She knew he now lived at
H20
. Her men had been watching the premises for the past two weeks, Vincenzo never leaving it.

They came to a stop next to Filippo. “What’s wrong?” Bernardo asked.

“The door’s locked,” his cousin replied. “Stand back. I’ll shoot it.” He lifted his gun and shot the lock.

Noise came from the other end of the hallway. Filippo whipped his gun around and fired off another shot, hitting a man in the chest as he stepped through the end door. Without wasting time, Filippo turned back to the band room, whispering, “Wait here while I check inside.”

He lifted his gun and pushed the door open a fraction, peering around the edge, then disappeared inside. Several seconds later he returned. “Only our target is present. He’s asleep on the bed.”

Irene did a little shake, then pushed past Filippo, eager to see Vincenzo. She let out an excited shout at the glorious sight on the bed. Vincenzo was sprawled out across it, still only wearing his leather pants, the rest of his body laid bare for her.

She rushed over and sat down next to him. Up close, he looked even sexier, with his mussed up brown hair and unshaven face. Unable to wait a second longer, she leaned down and sealed her lips to his, getting lost in the kiss.

“
Signora
, we need to leave now,” Bernardo said behind her.

Irene ignored him. The time apart from Vincenzo had been excruciating. She’d missed him so much, gone even crazier without him. They were meant to be together, not apart. He was her other half, the one who’d captured her heart, mind, and soul. She loved him more than life itself, more than anyone in the world.

“
Signora
,” Bernardo said more firmly. “We
need
to leave
. Now
.”

Vinnie stirred in his sleep, forcing Irene to break the kiss. He opened his eyes and stared up at her, his soft blue eyes hazy, his expression confused.

“
Ciao
,
amore
,” she said, brushing her fingers over his abs. “Did you miss me?”