Page 15 of Forgotten Vows

4

LACHLAN

The plane touches down at just after midnight, the wheels hitting the tarmac with a jolt that reverberates through my bones. I'm already unbuckling my seatbelt before we've fully stopped. Every second we waste is another second Adriana spends in that house, another second my son breathes the same air as Gio Santoro.

The engines whine as we taxi toward the private hangar. Through the small window I can see the lights of New York bleeding into the night sky, a place I knew in another lifetime, when I was someone else entirely. Someone weaker.

Someone who let the woman he loved stay behind.

Cormac is on his feet before the plane has fully stopped, checking his weapon, and Rian is beside him. His medical bag already slung over one shoulder, because we both know there's a decent chance someone's going to need patching up before the night is over. Tommy and Jack are in the back, both of them armed to the teeth and ready to move the second I give the word.

I chose these men carefully. Not just because they're loyal—though they are fiercely so—but because they're good at what theydo. When I tell them to extract a woman and a child from a heavily guarded estate, they'll find a way to make it happen.

They understand that failure isn't an option.

"We go in as quietly as we can," I say as the plane door opens, letting in a rush of warm air that smells like jet fuel and rain. "No unnecessary casualties. We're not here to start a war. We're here to take back what's mine and get out."

"And if they don't let us leave quietly?" Cormac asks.

"Then we make sure they can't follow."

The drive to the Santoro estate winds through neighborhoods that get progressively more expensive and more isolated until we're on tree-lined roads where the houses are set back behind gates and walls. I remember this area from when I was younger, when I used to ride with my father on jobs for Giovanni. Back when I was just the son of a low-level enforcer, and Adriana was the untouchable daughter of the boss that I dared to touch.

Looking back on it now, I can't believe I ever thought I could have her without consequences. That we could get away with it.

I was so fucking naive. We were both so fucking young we thought we could be invincible.

The estate comes into view, all stone, wrought iron, and manicured gardens. There are guards visible at the front gate and walking the perimeter, and I count at least six men on the grounds that I can see from here, which means there are probably twice that many on the rest of the property, and possibly more inside. We park a little ways down the street, far enough that we can spread out and try to enter without bringing attention to ourselves.

"Tommy, Jack—you take the east side," I say quietly, scanning the property. "Cormac, Rian—with me. We'll go in through the back, near the kitchen. There's a service entrance that should be less guarded."

"And the boy?" Rian asks.

"We'll find him. If we find Adriana first, she'll take us to wherever he is. Me and my guys will go for her. You two work on keeping things quiet."

Tommy nods, his expression grim. "Understood."

We move.

Toward the back of the estate, there's a place where there's a blind spot in the cameras, and the guards won't be back around for twenty minutes. Cormac weakens the metal with a small handheld blowtorch and then cuts the bars, making a space within a minute or so that we can squeeze through. It'll be obvious later, but by then we'll be gone. Whatever comes after that, I'll deal with it from Chicago. We'll see if Gio Santoro wants to make an enemy of me now.

The first guard goes down without ever knowing we're there. Cormac comes up behind him, one arm around his throat and the other hand covering his mouth, and within seconds the man is unconscious and being dragged into the bushes. The second guard is smoking a cigarette near the pool house, his back to us, and I take him myself, my hand clamping over his mouth as I drive my knee into his kidney hard enough to drop him. I get him in a chokehold, and he goes limp in my arms, his cigarette falling to the ground in a shower of sparks.

Two down.

We keep moving.

The service entrance is exactly where Tommy said it would be. It's locked but not alarmed, and I almost laugh. This is exactly the kind of overconfidence that comes from thinking you're untouchable, believing that no one would dare come for you in your own home. Gio thinks his outer perimeter is unscalable, and so he hasn't worried as much about locking down every possible way of getting in.

Good for us, bad for him.

Cormac has it open in less than a minute, and then we're inside. The smell of garlic and tomato sauce lingers in the air from whatever dinner was served hours ago, and the house is quiet around us.

I signal for Cormac and Rian to split off to look for my son. The thought still feels surreal, and I try not to think too hard about it right now, when I can't afford to be distracted. I move deeper into the house, toward the west wing where Tommy's contact said Adriana's room is located. My hand rests on the gun at my hip, even though I'm hoping I won't need to use it.

The hallway is long and lined with expensive artwork. I move past closed doors and darkened rooms, every sense on high alert for any indication that this is about to go sideways. I pass what looks like a study from the open door, and then a bathroom with the door cracked and the light on, like whoever is in there was in too much of a hurry to make sure the door was shut.

I hear a hiss of breath from inside, and I nudge the door carefully with my hand, easing it open. I see a man sitting on the closed toilet lid, his cargo pants open, and my eyes go wide. He's too focused on the phone in his hand and the rigid erection in his fist to notice I'm there, and I'm about to back the fuck up from whatever I just interrupted and move on when I catch a glimpse of the screen.