White Knight (Dirty Mafia Duet, #2)(60)

Knowing how damn stubborn she is, I believed every word she said. But still, I didn’t let her come along without rules.

She does what I say, when I say it, and without question. And if anything happens to her, she vowed to come back and haunt me for the rest of my life.

The swap is set to take place in twenty-five minutes, and it’ll take us fifteen to get there with traffic.

Cole is on board, along with the team of Feds who have been watching the Rossettis and waiting for the perfect opportunity to take them out. With an active kidnapping of the former wife of a high-profile news anchor, the perfect opportunity is now.

Every single person in the car is wearing body armor under his or her clothes. We all agreed that we have a hell of a lot to live for.

Benny’s ready. His old gun, the one he used for countless hits but left with Dom when he retired, is loaded and at his side. He made the case for being the one to pull the trigger, because he’ll be dead before they could put him on trial for murder. Also, given his condition, there’s no way in hell they’ll lock him up.

Cole asked for my promise that we weren’t coming in armed, and I laughed at him.

“Who the fuck do you think we are?” is the question I asked.

He finally gave up and said that we weren’t allowed to shoot anyone who wasn’t a Rossetti—in the unfortunate event that things go south—because if we accidentally kill his undercover officer, we’ll all be going to prison.

We agreed to the stipulation because we’ve got fucking better things to do.

When we reach the old warehouse, one that’s under construction to become trendy lofts but currently has plastic for windows, I scan for any sign of the cops or Feds. Even though they think they’re tricky, they generally suck at staying out of sight. Today, however, I’m surprised to find no signs of them.

Which means they might not be here.

Cole had one more round of approvals he had to get before he could commit his team to the plan, and there’s a damned good chance he didn’t get the go-ahead. The department has never played well with Dom, and I didn’t expect them to this time.

Either way, this ends today. We don’t need the cops or the Feds to do what we came here to do.

We circle the warehouse. After cutting through the construction gate, we drive into the wide opening that will eventually be garage parking for residents’ use only at exorbitant rates. But right now, only two black SUVs are inside the warehouse’s basement, facing the entrance, their high beams lighting the darkness.

Memphis stiffens beside me, and I reach down to squeeze her hand. “Stay right here and don’t move. Got it?”

I reiterate the point I made earlier, because the front seats of every one of Dom’s vehicles have been retrofitted to include armor sufficient to stop even a fifty-caliber bullet. The doors are all armored, and the windows are bullet resistant. Basically, Memphis is sitting in a tank that nothing short of a bomb blast could take out.

Right now, Dom rides behind Primo, I’m in the middle, and Benny’s up front ahead of Memphis.

As soon as we come to a stop, the doors of the other SUVs open. Giancarlo Rossetti and two of his goons—one of whom must be the undercover—step out of the back doors of one. Out of the other SUV come GTR, Cynthia, a junior Rossetti cousin, and someone who makes Memphis suck in a harsh breath.

“What the hell is Randi doing here?”

I follow her pointing finger to the black-and-silver-haired woman standing behind GTR.

“I have no fucking idea, but that doesn’t make any sense,” I reply, but Dom doesn’t have any such confusion.

“She must be expendable, and they’re using us to take her out because they’re done with her. They think they’re smart, but they’re fucking stupid. Come on, it’s time to do this.”

Our doors open and the four of us climb out, but not before I crush my lips against Memphis’s.

“I love you. No matter what happens next, I will love you forever.”

“Danger, don’t you dare fucking get shot. Promise me.”

I can’t give her that promise, so I kiss her again and follow my father.

My palms itch for the two pistols tucked into the compression shirt covering my body armor, and I wonder if I’ve been lying to myself about this all along. Maybe I am a gangster and I didn’t know it.

Then again, the only person I want to take out is Giancarlo, for killing Memphis’s biological mother. And if my suspicions are right . . . in a roundabout way, he might have killed both of her fathers too.

It’s the only explanation that makes sense about what happened to Leander Lockwood.

Dom told him what he suspected about Giancarlo killing Regina, and if Leander was anything like his daughter, he would have shifted his focus to the Rossettis. Which means there’s a hell of a good chance that it got him killed. It wouldn’t be the first time the Rossettis have staged a murder as a suicide, and for that, I want vengeance.

They’ve taken too much from the woman I love, and it ends today, in this warehouse basement with water dripping from the pipes and the scent of destruction in the air.

“Surprised to see you still standing, Dom. You really are Teflon, even when it comes to bullets.” Giancarlo taunts Dom for what is certainly going to be the last time.

Beside me, Benny stands casually, but only a fool would dismiss the old man as not being lethal. I have no idea how many people he has killed, and I don’t want to. Suffice it to say he’s paying his penance because he doesn’t have long on this earth.