Page 114 of The Devil's Pawn

Dom stayed back at the hospital. Not that we’d expect him to come with us while we went after the children and women. Not while Chiara lies in the hospital. Not after they lost their baby.

My stomach curls with rage.Theydid that. The Bianchis. Those fucking bastards kill everything. I can’t fucking wait until every one of them is dead. Gone. Where they can no longer destroy innocents ever again.

We’d better find those kids and women at Russo’s building, or I’ll personally go after Anthony for lying.

It’s the weekend, and the timing couldn’t be more perfect. There’s only a small office building across the street from Joey—the bastard—Russo’s office, but they’re closed today. So is Russo’s law practice. We killed all the cameras in the area too, not wanting to be caught if anything goes south. We can’t have our names tainted.

My brother and I step out of our SUV, parking it in the empty lot where Anthony told us we could find the cellar doors. I don’t know what’s waiting for us on the other side, but there’s only one way to find out.

Our men shuffle out of the van parked adjacent to our vehicle, following us to where I can already spot the silver cellar doors. I quickly reach them.

“All right, listen, everyone,” I tell them as they circle around me. “Enzo and I will go in first, and you all will follow. Keep the bullets to a minimum. Only if we need to. We don’t want to hurt anyone innocent. Got it?”

“Got it, boss,” some of them say, while others nod in agreement.

With that, I remove my torch, the same one I used on Ricky, and light the padlock on fire. Silently, it melts away until it’s deformed and splits in half, allowing us entry.

Grabbing the doors, I pull them apart, and they creak open. Darkness shrouds the inside, not an indication of life within the walls. I slip the torch into my pocket, removing a mini flashlight and a nine-mil, holding them at my left thigh.

I move down with slow steps, flicking the flashlight on and illuminating our path. One more step, and I’m the first to reach the bottom, not finding anything besides crates of files.

Blue. Green. Yellow. There are bins of every color, but nothing else.

My nostrils flare, teeth clenching. Every inhale and exhale is harsher than the last.

I flip the light over every corner, but I can look as much as I want. There’s no one here at all. No one here but us.

“That motherfucker lied! There are no kids here!” I explode with my heart hammering in my ears and practically ripping out of me. “We should’ve killed him! Why the fuck was I so stupid?!”

My brother wanders further inside, knocking down the files with a roar.

With one more look I’m ready to go, and as I do, my arm hits a crate, and the gun falls to the floor with a loud clank.

“Shit,” I mutter, lowering down to retrieve it.

And when I do, I hear a distant clattering sound, like someone banging a pipe or some kind of metal.

“Anyone hear that?”

“Wha—”

Holding out a hand, I stop Enzo. “Shh. There it is again.”

“Hello?” I yell out. “Anyone here?”

The clattering is louder now, as though multiple pipes are being pounded on from a distance.

Enzo and I stare at one another as I point a finger to the floor.

“It’s coming from down there,” I whisper.

“Shit. You think that’s where they’re hiding them?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Enzo grabs a flashlight from his pocket, and the six men with us do the same, all of us looking for some kind of door. We scatter every inch of the place but find nothing.

“Fuck!” I shout, kicking over a crate as my hand squeezes the back of my neck.

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