Page 3 of Breakup Games

Two

MASON

“They’re getting sloppy. We’ll catch ‘em soon.”

“No,” I tell my partner, Diego, shaking my head as I look at the body on the ground in front of us. Both arms are broken to the point of being able to be tied together in a knot in front of the dead guy’s chest. This is the third body we’ve found just like this in the last thirty days, a calling card of the Moretti family, who have had deep roots in organized crime here in Chicago for decades. As FBI agents, this case has been pissing the both of us off like no other. “They know we can’t.”

Diego crouches down, looking at the body. “How do you think they broke all the bones this time? Cinder blocks again?”

“Maybe.” I shine my flashlight on the guy’s arms. “There’s minimal blood. It was a slow process and definitely done while he was alive.”

“Wonder what this guy did to piss them off.”

“We’ll find out,” I say with my usual confidence, but I can feel the frustration building. I’ve been working on this case for over a year now and am not any closer to getting it solved. The Morettis have ties to a lot of powerful people and have been almost untouchable for years now. They run a sophisticated operation,using low-level henchmen to commit the actual crimes—like this. We’ve caught a handful of them before but haven’t gotten anything close to a confession out of them that will link them to the Morettis since they’ve all thought their rich and powerful boss will follow through with the lies that they can get them out of jail.

Stepping back so the crime scene photographer can take a few more shots, I look back at the teen girl who found the body halfway hidden behind a dumpster in an alley. She’s rightly shaken up—just seeing a dead body is jarring and unnatural, but seeing one whose hand the bones in his arms crushed enough to make them limp sacs of bone dust will mess you up for a long time.

“Let’s see if the cops pulled the CCTV footage.” I motion for Diego to follow me and we go on with our investigation. It’s like going through the fucking motions all over again. The body was dumped out of the trunk of a Lexus that was reported stolen from Hinsdale two days ago. The guy driving it was wearing a mask and an oversized hoodie, same as the guy who got out and pulled the body from the trunk.

The arms were already broken and tied, which confirms my suspicions that the dumpsite was only a dumpsite. But why here? Is there significance? Did they just want the body to be found within a few hours so send a message?

And similarly to the other footage we’ve got, the car drives into a parking garage, picked out on purpose of course because that’s where we lose it…and where the car is found, completely wiped clean. Which is what we’ll find again, I’m sure. The dead guy’s DNA will be all over the trunk, and maybe—maybe—we’ll get lucky enough to get something to ID the drivers, though even if we do, it’s not like they’ll talk.

“We need a mole,” Diego sighs once we’ve back in the conference room.

“But where the fuck do we find one?” I huff, throwing a ball of paper in the air and catching it. We’ve been sitting here going over the case with two other agents.

“What about the kids?” Diego grabs a file from the middle of the table and slides it over, opening it up to one of the Moretti family trees we’ve put together. The youngest members of the family are seven and nine, and off limits in my book. They wouldn’t be able to give us anything more than hearsay anyway, and I would fucking hope the kids are clueless to what their parents actually do.

“No way, man. They couldn’t help us even if they wanted to.”

“Not them, idiot.” He flips to another page. “The cousins.”

I tip my head, thinking. I’ve considered it before, but have come to the same conclusion. Enzo and Aldo Moretti’s father, Trevor, married into the Moretti family. He kept his last name but his two sons have their mother’s. They flew under the radar for a while, seeming like they didn’t have close enough ties to the rest of the family to handle business, so to say.

“Enzo has been seen in a lot of clubs the last few months,” Diego goes on. “This is his older cousin, Bianca.”

“Did we get confirmation on that?” I ask. Bianca Moretti is barely five feet tall, with a babydoll face and big, innocent eyes. Looking at her, you’d have no idea she’s as ruthless as she is, but my money is on her to take over the family business.

“Yep.” He picks up his phone and opens up Instagram, going to Bianca’s profile. She’s got a ton of followers, showcasing her wealth and possessions. She’s leaned into the rumors that her family is not so innocent, only driving interest to her. Both my sister and sisters-in-law find her fascinating, and I’m pretty sure one of my sisters-in-law wrote a mafia book roughly inspired by the Moretti family.

Taking his phone, I roll through Bianca’s posts. She’s dangling meat before rabid dogs, knowing full well that wehave nothing on them. The confidence is both irritating and encouraging, because that’s where people usually mess up. They get over confident and then sloppy.

“There he is,” I muse, looking at Enzo Moretti. He’s short and pudgy, with a receding hairline peppered with gray. Though he’s dressed well, he didn’t get the good looks the rest of the family seemed to inherit—or had surgically enhanced. Still, he’s smiling smugly at the camera. I cannot fucking wait for the day I put him handcuffs. “We need more to go on before they’ll assign a case to him.”

“I know,” Diego huffs as I hand him back his phone. “Though I have a good feeling if we…” He raises his eyebrows and I nod. Because I agree. The only way we’re going to get anything worthwhile is to tail the guy a bit and then come back at it theappropriateway—which we will. Whatever evidence we get has to be able to hold up in court or the whole thing will be a moot point.

“Let’s do it,” I say with a nod. This is my white whale, the case I won’t stop until it’s solved. And stopping the Moretti family would be the biggest achievement of my career, not to mention it would end the trafficking the family is responsible for. “Tonight, let’s follow Enzo Moretti.”

Chapter

Three

MIRA

He’s definitely cheating on her.

Like without a shadow of a doubt, this man is banging any chick he can, left and right, and is sitting here in front of me, telling his girlfriend that he loves her and wants to be with her and her alone.

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