Page 70 of Brutal Power

“How long have they been there?” I ask him.

“Too long.” He gives me a hard look. “We should shoot first and ask questions later.”

“That’s how you end up in prison, bro.” I squeeze his arm. “Stay here and watch my back, alright? If I signal for you, come running. Otherwise, just trust me.”

“You know who these guys are?”

“I have a guess. You just need to trust me, okay?”

He clearly doesn’t like that, but I don’t wait around long enough for him to change his mind. I stalk off toward the SUV, and as I get close, the driver’s window rolls down.

Luca Moretti gives me a hard stare and I stop in the middle of the street ten feet away from him. “Does your brother realize that he could go to prison carrying around a gun like that?”

“What do you want, Moretti?”

He stares at me for another few seconds like he’s trying to decide what to say. Then he shrugs and looks straight ahead. “Boss wants to meet.”

“When and where?”

“Now and wherever I take you.” He glances over again. “Unless that’s a problem.”

I don’t move. Because yeah, that’s a fucking problem. If Santoro wants to kill me, this is basically like walking right into his trap. I could get in this vehicle, let them drive me to a pre-dug grave, and there wouldn’t be anything I could do to stop the bullet from burrowing through my skull.

But this is what I wanted, and I have to take risks if this plan is going to come together.

“Alright, I’m ready.”

He hits a button and the doors unlock. I climb into the back where a third man’s waiting for me, a big thug-looking guy that does his best to pat me down. I’m not carrying, and so he finds nothing. The thug sitting up front with Moretti stares me down with hard, dark eyes, and I wonder if he’s the shooter in this group.

“Normally, I’d have to bag you and drive around in circles for a while, but Mr. Santoro decided to make this easy on you.” Luca Moretti pulls out and starts driving north.

Neighborhoods flash by and nobody speaks. The thug to my right looks bored as he watches the buildings filter past. I’m trying to keep track of where we’re going and only realize it’s useless when we pull into the parking lot of the Target down near Hyde Park. It’s a nice neighborhood and the bougie stay-at-home moms are crowded into the place, but we manage to find a spot at the far end next to a very nice Lincoln. Luca kills the engine and gestures for me to get out.

“Where is he?” I ask.

“Next car over. Don’t be fucking stupid.” He turns away, already taking out his phone.

I push open the door and get out. My heart’s racing, but it’s good that we’re in such a public spot. There are a lot of people around right now and there are too many security cameras for Santoro to straight-out murder me.

The Lincoln smells like mint and cologne. Luciano Santoro is sitting on the far left side behind the driver, an older Italian man with graying hair and a sharp smile. He’s got on a good suit, wide lapels, gold cufflinks, and a tie that looks designer. The men up front both have guns in their laps.

“Hello, Mr. Quinn,” Santoro says as I settle in beside him.

“Mr. Santoro. Thank you for seeing me.”

“I understand this was last minute and these aren’t the most ideal circumstances, but you understand the paranoia.”

I do and he’s right to feel that way. If he had given me more time, I might’ve come up with a plan to fuck him, or at least I would’ve tried.

“Of course. My wife’s family wouldn’t be happy if they knew we were having this meeting.”

Santoro’s lips press together. He’s an average-looking guy, the sort of older Italian man I would never look twice at if I passed him in the street, and yet I can tell there’s something sharp in that head of his. It’s in the way he doesn’t react right away like he’s taking what I say, processing it, and thinking before he opens his mouth. That’s the mark of a really clever man.

“How is little Elena? I suppose she’s not little anymore. I remember when she was growing up, that girl was a firecracker. Her father loved her.”

“She’s fine,” I tell him. “I’m not interested in her history.”

“No? Things aren’t good with the new wife?” His eyebrows raise.

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