“Those are ours, Riccardo,” she whispered. “They’re saying the freighters were empty except for the crew. How can that be? Even the smallest freighters are lost along with the crews. The ships that weren’t at sea were destroyed in the harbor and every member of the crew was found dead.” She looked up at him, her eyes dazed with shock. “Every member of the crew was found dead. No one was alive. They all had broken necks.”
His cell phone continued to ring until he forced himself to answer it. Paulo again. No, there was no money to be found in any of the bank accounts. They weren’t frozen; they had been drained. Paulo was still trying to trace the money. And that wasn’t all. There was no insurance on the freighters. None. Paulo couldn’t explain what had happened with the insurance policies. It was as if they’d never been. There was no record of them in existence. Paulo had checked personally the moment he heard about the first explosion. Even the paper copies stored in the company safe had disappeared along with all cash.
“Find out what’s going on, Paulo,” Riccardo said. “Money doesn’t vanish overnight. Neither do insurance policies. We’re under attack by a very clever opponent.” He turned his attention back to his wife. “When was the last time you checked the safe, Eva?”
“This morning. You know how my brother likes to have his fun. I have to pay cash for his little playmates. They never last long, either. He likes those boys so young.” She rolled her eyes. “I had to pay nearly twenty thousand for some little street urchin to keep him happy until our shipment gets in. That horrible girl, Brielle, delayed everything with her meddling.”
Observing from the shadows, Elie felt his stomach drop. Eva had paid for a child just that morning. This was such a sick family, conscienceless, corrupt and depraved, living large off the backs of so many human beings, most young children. He knew Eva’s brother Ezra lived on the estate, just as their son Enrico did with his wife and children. Enrico worked for his father as well. Their second daughter, Debora, had married into another family in Houston. Houston was a big port. Elie was going to make a point of checking them out. That would have to come later.
He didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound. He was fast and could strike with blurring speed. He had only to wait until Riccardo checked the safe. The vile crime lord wouldn’t be able to stop himself. He’d lost too much already.
“Eva, call Enrico. Tell him to have security guards in the room with him at all times. Don’t let him argue the point. In fact, he should bring Cinder here. I know the children are visiting her parents. Why they’re allowed to go there, I don’t know.” He stalked across the room to a wood panel that looked as if it was seamless. “Her parents are idiots. That marriage didn’t do a thing to further our family. Enrico thought he was so in love. Now look at him. He runs the clubs and takes extra care that he’s the one ensuring any women we bring in know how to behave before we sell them.”
“Cinder suits him, Riccardo,” Eva replied, patience in her tone. “She doesn’t mind him instructing the women as long as she gets to watch. She enjoys it. They have a better sex life.”
“That’s sick,” he declared and slid the wooden panel back to reveal the thick wall of the safe. He immediately used an eye scan as well as his fingerprints to unlock it.
Mariko stepped out of the shadow behind Eva and dispatched her without making a sound. She stepped back into the shadow and was out the door. Elie waited to ensure Riccardo was aware of more of his losses.
When Riccardo yanked open the door of the safe to stare into the cavernous space, he did so almost blankly. There was silence in the room other than the ticking of a clock. “Eva. The money was in this safe this morning. You said you removed twenty thousand to pay for some kid for Ezra? Did your brother know how to get into the safe?”
When his question was met with silence, he spun around. The sight of his wife, slumped in her chair, neck broken, just like their son and daughter-in-law, made him stagger back, his hand over his heart.
Catching up his cell phone, he punched in a number. Elie heard Val’s voice come on telling his caller to leave a message. Riccardo snarled and nearly threw the phone.
Elie took the shadow out of the room and chose one that would take him to the rooms where Ezra Mendoza resided. The suite of rooms consisted of a bedroom, bathroom and sitting room. Ezra was lying back on his bed, completely nude. A boy of about eight sat huddled in the corner of the room, knees drawn up and head down, bruises and knots already forming on his body.
The boy wept quietly. He suddenly hiccupped loudly. Ezra threw a can of peanuts at him and yelled at him to shut up. The boy didn’t respond or look up. Ezra leapt up, crossed the room immediately and grabbed the child by his hair, dragging him to the bathroom. Elie could see the bathtub was filled with water and Ezra clearly intended to push the child’s head under.
Elie came out of the shadows just as Ezra reached the tub. Grasping Ezra’s head, he wrenched, delivering the kill, and immediately stepped back into the shadows. For the first time in his life, he regretted the speed with which riders dispatched their targets. Because he wasn’t certain that letting Ezra die so easily was actually justice. If anyone deserved to suffer before they died, Ezra Mendoza did. Then Elie was riding a fast shadow, one that moved like greased lightning to Enrico’s house.
He passed Riccardo, who was hurrying toward his son’s home, using the shortcut through the garden. Enrico’s house wasn’t the big showcase his parents’ was, but inside, it was quite luxurious. Cinder had a fur wrapped around her and was parading up and down in front of Enrico.
“We could have all the girls wrapped in furs and nothing else, do something entirely different for the auction. They could crawl onto the stage with tails and ears. Their handlers could be dressed in jungle gear or something like that. The music could be amped up, real exciting, maybe rap. We could get someone to write the lyrics we want. If we serve drinks and just edge them with that wonderful drug like we did last time, we could rake in so much money, Enrico. What do you think?”
Enrico drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “I think you are a genius, Cinder. Do you have ideas for the staging?”
Cinder tossed the mink to one side and rushed over to a small desk where she had a drawing pad laid out. “I do. I’ve been working on this idea for a few days. I thought you’d like it. Watching you at the club with those two girls, getting them to obey you, making them crawl to you, was so inspiring. I wanted to create something really special.”
Elie came up behind Enrico. The man leaned forward in his chair, eyes on his wife. His breathing had changed. He was clearly aroused at the thought of the things Cinder had planned for the next auction and he couldn’t wait to hear about it.
Elie came out of the shadow just as Mariko did. Enrico started to stand, seeing a woman emerge behind his wife, grasping her head in her hands. Elie had him in the death grip and wrenched. The pair died at the same time. Riccardo rushed into the room as the two bodies dropped to the floor.
Riccardo stared at them in horror and then he screamed. Swore revenge. Tried calling Valentino again, but only got his voice mail. This time, he didn’t seem to care if the feds were listening.
“Call them off, Val. Make them stop. They’re killing everyone. I know it’s them. Everyone is dead. My money is gone. My ships are gone. Everyone is dead. My sons. My wife. My . . .” He broke off.
Riccardo ignored Enrico’s two security guards, who rushed in the room when they heard him yelling. Both went straight to the bodies and then looked at him with suspicion. Imbeciles. Where had they been when Archambault or Ferraro had become the devil and killed his sons? Screaming in fury, he pulled out his gun and shot both of the guards.
He hurried out. His parents lived on the property. The last of his family that could be alive, other than his grandchildren and two daughters. One daughter in Houston and one in Spain. At least they were both alive. Claudia, in Spain, was untouchable. No one would dare go near her. She was married to Guillem Toselli. Unless Guillem’s father, Arnau, lost his mind and decided to kill Claudia in revenge for Valeria’s death, Claudia was safe.
Riccardo’s old man lived by the sword, had taught him everything he knew. He went to him often to discuss his business dealings. Riccardo had always admired his father. He loved his mother and the way she cared for his father. He got to the little cottage the pair had insisted was all they wanted, right in the middle of the garden.
There was no sound and his heart began to beat too fast. He knocked, but then just opened the door and went in the way he always did. His parents sat together in front of the television the way they always did, watching old reruns of sitcoms. He knew they were dead the moment he stepped into the room.
He dropped into a chair and began to rock back and forth, grief welling up.
A voice came from the shadows. Low. Hard. Cold. And familiar. “These people you love, Riccardo, that’s just a small fraction of the way I love Brielle. You tried to take her from me. This man you have in Stefano’s hotel, the one you think will be able to get to her, will be dead before he gets anywhere close to her. And if you’re counting on Toselli to exact revenge on your behalf, don’t. He’s about to experience the same thing you just have. No one goes after my wife and gets away with it.”