Page 34 of Wicked Bloodlines

“Correct. Anthony dropped off the grid, but Vincent hung around to clean up the evidence. When first responders rolled up, the room was stripped.”

He clicked to the next screen which showed a photo of the records room. Steel cabinets, files stacked in bins. “Credit to Gabriel’s boys. They swept the whole lockup and got out with all the blackmail files and route ledgers before PD even got close.”

Gabriel cracked a smile, chewing on a toothpick. “I always get it done.”

Alessandro tapped the screen again, shutting it off. “Everything’s in locked down tight now in our own vault. I tagged the ledgers with fresh codes for the night’s run.”

Dario’s voice broke in, low and final. “That leaves only the shipment.”

The digital clock overhead ticked past 21:17. Less than three hours to showtime.

I stood at the edge of the table, my gaze on the wall of screens. Every camera that mattered played out on the top row. Feed from the docks, feed from the house, and two roving eyes on Pier 17.

Alessandro switched to the plan. “Here’s the op. The false information hit even harder than we’d hope. Cesare’s people are scrambling, all in. Vincent and Anthony will come for the decoy shipment at Pier 17, and they’ll bring real firepower to make the point.”

He drew a finger along the map. “Matteo and Gabriel, you’re the hammer. Stage inside the container stacks, at the dead checkpoint, hit them once they commit to the approach. The goal is to break them. No survivors.”

“Looking fucking forward to it,” I said.

He finally glanced over at the pair of closed doors. “The women go nowhere tonight.” He gave me a firm look. “Especially your woman.”

I shrugged. “She’s a handful.”

Alessandro snorted. “You wouldn’t have her any other way.” He wasn’t wrong.

Dario nodded once, sharp and clean. “If Rossi wants a war, we’ll give him one.”

All eyes were on me and Gabriel. “Questions?” Alessandro asked.

Gabriel just grinned. “Yeah. You think Vincent’s got the stones to show in person, or is he sending the B team?”

“Vincent’s a narcissist,” I said. “He’ll want to see us down for himself. You’ll get your shot at him.”

Gabriel’s grin grew wider. “Good.”

As everyone made their final preparations, I went to the office where I knew Sofia would wait, likely with Belle at her side. The two women had started spending time together, and I thought it helped Sofia to understand how different my family was compared to hers.

Sofia waited by the door. When she saw me, she closed the distance between us. Her hand came up, palm flat against my chest. Right over my heart.

“Careful,” she whispered.

I covered her hand with mine, pressing her fingers into my heartbeat. “Always. I’ll be back before you know it.”

I leaned in to kiss her softly. “We’re finishing this tonight. No matter what.” Sofia nodded, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss me once more before I left. Dario still had two guards outside the office though they weren’t strictly needed in the villa. Until we had this whole fucked up situation contained, we kept our women under lock and key.

Once ready, we hit the road in a convoy of black SUVs, cliché as it sounded. Out by the eastern docks, Vittorio’s team was already in position. Alessandro’s last ping put the real cargo sealed and under a double ring of security. Pier 17 waited, dead dark except for the river lights in the distance. The real war was about to start.

Closer to the pier, I could hear the river lapping against the pilings. Every light on the main drag was out. The only glow came from a bank of security lights a quarter mile away, shining weak and sickly over the locked gates of the warehouse.

Gabriel’s van ghosted up to the checkpoint and he killed the engine. We slipped out of the cab, guns loose in our hands. My men melted into the stacks of containers, shadows on the concrete.

Vincent Rossi’s convoy rolled in early, which meant he expected trouble. Three blacked-out SUVs in tight formation, windows tinted, running boards gleaming under the security lights approached the area from the opposite end of the road. They stopped a hundred feet or so out.

Vincent got out first. He moved to the front, flanked by two body men. More men fanned out, maybe a dozen, split between the vehicles and pier itself. Gabriel was on a catwalk above the checkpoint, so I knew he saw the advancement.

Vincent called out, voice echoing against the empty steel. “You know who I am, so let’s skip the foreplay. Bring me what you owe.” Of course, none of my men replied. This wasn’t going to be a negation. He took another step forward, raising his voice. “This is your final warning, Luca. Give it up now and I’ll let you walk away.”

Beside the main checkpoint, two of Vincent’s men moved toward the edge, weapons drawn. I thumbed my comm. “Light ‘em up.”