Page 54 of Love Me (Touch of Death 3)
In the space of only two days, the former residence of Eduardo Ricci becomes a military camp of sorts. Nero sent twenty men with Una. They’re all staying here, occupying the villa. Lorenzo hasn’t really said much about it, but I know he wants to see Enrique dead as much as anyone. He’s still in a state of grief and loss, unable to move past Gabriella’s death, probably because they haven’t buried her yet. He won’t let them until Adelina can attend the funeral. I understand it, but the man needs to pull himself from the limbo that isn’t serving him or anyone else.
I make my way through the house and into the kitchen. One of Lorenzo’s men makes food for everyone, and the smell of eggs and bacon makes my stomach rumble.
Una catches my eye from across the room before jerking her head toward the door. I follow her out into the hall, where she props her back to the wall.
“What’s wrong?”
“Have you heard from Adelina at all?”
“No. Why?”
She nods, though her expression remains concerned. “I’ve had men watching the house. She was there, in the same room, but yesterday, they moved. No one saw Bianchi leave the property, but they couldn’t confirm he was there in the first place. Would he send her away alone?”
I tap my finger over my lip. “Do they know where she’s gone?”
“Yes. They were followed to a hotel.”
“The Riviera?”
She tilts her head to the side. “Yes. You know it?”
“I’ve hit it before. Killed Sergio Fonzo, Bianchi’s cousin, there.”
“So, the security will be tighter now?”
“Of course. She’ll be in the penthouse. Bianchi wouldn’t leave her alone for long. She’s the jewel in his crown, his claim over everything Ricci.”
The truth is, with Gabriella gone, everything will fall to Adelina. The properties, the businesses: legitimate and otherwise. Most importantly, though, The Ricci’s own several ports farther along the north coast and a couple in the south, as well as the ships docked there. One of their legitimate businesses is freight shipping, and it isn’t difficult to smuggle drugs and weapons as long as you pay off the right people. Eduardo Ricci had the contacts in Africa to pull it off: coastguard, police, even government officials. It’s not hard to buy favors in one of the most corrupt countries in the world. Adelina is valuable to Enrique in many ways.
Una nods slowly as though absorbing all the information and stashing it. “Okay. There’s a shipment leaving Tre Fontane tonight. Bianchi’s uncle owns three ports within twenty miles of each other. It’s where Bianchi ships most of his product to Turkey.”
“You’re going to hit it?”
“Yes.”
“What about Adelina? You know where she is. She’s easier to get to in that hotel.”
She lifts her chin, and I hate that look she gets in her eye, cold and calculating. “Adelina isn’t the priority right now. We don’t think he’ll kill her.”
“Don’t bullshit me, of all people. You could kill him and get her out.”
“No, because he will become a martyr, an excuse for whoever steps up behind him to start a war with us. This needs to be quick and efficient. We break down everything around him, then no one will care if he dies, because he’ll have no money and no one left to give a shit. We kill him, and that’s it, no one to fill the void, except Adelina Ricci. The Bianchi name won’t be worth the paper it’s written on.”
It’s a good plan. Or at least it would be if my heart wasn’t invested in ways it shouldn’t be.
“And what about The Elite? I thought they were an imminent problem.”
A sly smile works over her face. “I have a plan, brother. Two birds. One stone.” She pats my shoulder. “Don’t worry. In a matter of weeks, this will all be over.”
17
Sasha
Two ports and an airstrip. We know a big shipment will be leaving one of them tonight, but we don’t know which. Getting information out of the Bianchi household is getting increasingly more difficult, with contacts going missing each day.
I duck down beneath the nose of a small plane that sits parked in an open-sided hangar. Half the engine is missing, with parts strewn methodically on the ground around it. The airstrip sits in the middle of disused, scrubby land. In the distance, I can see the twinkling lights of the nearest houses.
Moonlight cuts through the darkness, illuminating several planes in different spaces. At the fence line, a hundred yards behind me, Tommy lingers, and I can practically feel his nervousness from here.
I creep forward, hiding in the shadows until I finally press my back against the building, a huge door with a chain and padlock. That must be where all the functional planes are. We ground them, and we halt a huge chunk of Bianchi’s operation.
