Page 79 of Triplets for the Mafia Prince

My phone buzzes with another update from Max. Everything remains in place. The pieces are set. Now I just have to execute the plan.

The next morning,I pull into the warehouse district near Buffalo's docks, parking between shipping containers that shield my arrival from view. The scent of Lake Erie's industrial waterfront fills my nostrils—diesel fuel, fish, and rust.

My most trusted soldiers emerge from the shadows—Vinny, Tommy, and Marco. These men have been loyal to me for years, quietly supporting my vision for the family's future while pretending allegiance to my father.

"The warehouse is clear," Vinny reports.

Tommy shifts his weight, checking his weapon. "Caruso's advance team did their sweep an hour ago. They'll be back with him in forty minutes."

"And my father?" I scan the area, working to keep my nervous energy at a minimum.

“His plane landed and he’s on his way.” Marco blows out a breath. “I wish we had more men, Boss.”

“He’d notice if too many of my crew were along. As it is, I imagine he wonders why you volunteered.”

“We could get an Oscar for how well we’ve convinced him we’re loyal to him. You’re in the wind, running like a pussy.” Tommy grins and then his features drop. “You’re not a pussy. We just?—”

“I get it.” I pat him on the shoulder. “I’d like to get this done before Caruso arrives. I’d rather deal with him after.”

“I’m sure he’ll deal with you. Once it's done, the other capos are ready to fall in line behind you,” Vinny assures me.

“And those that don’t…” Tommy holds up his gun. I hope it doesn’t come to that, even though I suspect it will.

My stomach churns with nervous energy, but I keep my voice steady. "Everything we've worked for comes down to the next hour. You all know what's at stake."

Images of Bella, Gia, and the twins flash through my mind. My unborn child. All depending on this plan succeeding. For a moment, I feel sick. I really don’t want to fuck this up.

A car enters the area. “Let’s go,” I say.

The bitter lake wind cuts through my coat as we move between shipping containers, staying in the shadows. Vinny takes point while Tommy and Marco flank our sides. The early morning darkness works to our advantage. The dock workers won't arrive for another hour.

My hand rests on my gun, mind clear and focused.

Marco signals that the perimeter is clear. We slip inside through the side entrance where Tommy has already disabled the alarm. Like Marco, I’d rather have had more men. Shooters in the rafters. Exit routes covered. But I couldn’t involve too many men from my crew without my father taking notice.

Everything is set. Now we wait for my father to enter. The warehouse air feels heavy with anticipation. It also seems too quiet. I stop, listen. I have no reason to think something is up, and yet, my Spidey sense is tingling.

Something's wrong.

I signal Marco to hold position.

"Vinny, those security sweeps Caruso's men did…"

"Confirmed by our spotters," he says, but his voice carries a note of uncertainty.

I pull out my phone to text Max, but there's no signal. Not even a single bar. The dread solidifies in my gut.

“Are we sure they were Caruso’s?”

“Who else would they be? They weren’t ours.”

But they could have been my father’s. His organization is vast. His local crew wouldn’t be known to my men. Doubt fills me. It’s time to retreat and regroup.

I raise my fist, signaling my men to fall back when the first flash of a red laser sight appears on Vinny’s chest.

The warehouse erupts in gunfire. Vinny takes three shots to the chest before I can even shout a warning. His body drops. Tommy dives for cover but catches a round to the head.

Fuck!

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