Page 19 of Love Me (Touch of Death 3)
She killed Enrique Bianchi. She’s no longer a naïve, innocent girl, and yet she is, in so many ways. Because as much as she hated being a pawn, I realize, she knows no other way. And so this low, simmering rage continues because she went to such lengths to avenge a father who would have sold her. Only to achieve that very goal and sell herself yet again. For the hundredth time, I have to remind myself that she isn’t my problem.
I descend the hillside and climb into the car parked at the road at the bottom. The engine roars to life, and I pull away.
This bar is really more of a run down little café that happens to sell beer. It sits right by the beach but lacks the curb appeal to attract tourists. The entire place looks dilapidated and dirty. The sign is hanging off, and one of the windows is boarded up, though it looks as though it’s been like that for a while because the chipboard is beginning to rot.
There are only four tables inside and a few outside. Two old men sit by the door in companionable silence. They sip beers and smoke cigarettes, watching the world go by.
I take a seat inside, two tables back from the doorway. I know there’s also an exit to the rear, through the kitchen. The waitress approaches me, a young girl with dark hair in braids.
“Coffee, please.”
She nods and goes behind the little counter, starting the machine, which hisses loudly.
I’m sipping my coffee when a man finally steps inside. His gaze shifts around the small bar before nervously landing on me. He pulls out the chair across from me and sits down. He’s a small, middle-aged man with a faded-blue baseball cap shadowing his face. His jeans are dirty, and his hoody has holes in it.
“Sasha Ivanov?” he mumbles.
I nod and place my coffee mug on the table. “Do you have the information I asked for.”
He nods jerkily, his agitation clear. “Yes, here.” He slides an envelope across the table, and I snatch it, tucking it inside my jacket pocket.
“Thank you.” I hand him the receipt for my coffee and turn it over before handing him the pen. “Your account details.”
He writes them down, and within minutes, I’ve transferred five thousand dollars to his account. Men like him are cheap, though the risk is relevantly small, asking questions will often attract someone’s attention. Especially questions that are relevant to the inner workings of the Bianchi family.
He pushes to his feet, shoulders hunched over as he stumbles to the door and exits the bar as quickly as he came. I can feel the waitress’s gaze on me, so I drink the rest of my coffee and leave.
Once back in the car, I pull the envelope from my pocket. There are photos mainly; members of the family, men who work for them. But every one features the same man, Sergio Fonzo. His heavily scarred face is distinctive. His mother was Sebastian Bianchi’s sister, Enrique’s Aunt. Sergio’s parents were killed in a car accident, a bodged assassination attempt that should have killed the boy. Instead, he was left disfigured. I know all this because years later, Una and I were sent to kill his older brother, courtesy of the Italians.
Enrique Bianchi kept his cousin close for years, leaning on him heavily for the dirtier side of the business. He’s well known for torturing and killing without mercy. He’s a man with a story and a reputation. In the mafia, that means a lot. Men will back him, through respect, fear, or both. As far as they are concerned, he’s earned his place. This is the man that Adelina wishes to challenge.
My lips twitch as I consider that because truthfully, she won’t have to. This is no David and Goliath story. These days David pays an assassin to kill Goliath before the fight has even started.
This is the man I have to kill.
I turn over the first photo, seeing place names scrawled in black ink, along with times and dates. It’s a good place to start because Fonzo is clearly not at Enrique Bianchi’s former residence. They’re no doubt closing ranks, plotting when and how they will come after Adelina. A strong move from any new leader would be to avenge the old one. If it were me, I would eviscerate the Ricci family and send a strong message. I suspect they will act within days. People in the Ricci household know Adelina is there now, and loyalty is easily bought, especially when broached by what looks to be the winning side.
If I kill Fonzo, the Bianchis will be scrambling once more and descend into anarchy, but it won’t be for long. There is always another to take his place. I have to wonder how heavily Nero is prepared to push this.
