Page 50 of Revenge & Ruin

She looks at her feet, an oddly childish gesture. “I didn’t think they’d care that much.”

It would be easy for me to chastise her ignorance. God, even walking into a bar like that on a good day is unbelievably risky. But the cartel’s response this evening is a symptom of something beyond her control.

“Amos Rubio put a KOS on the Guild when he found out Giuliano Moretti was dead. Giuliano had been feeding the cartel information about us for months and it seems Rubio didn’t appreciate being cut off,” I explain.

“Is that why Rocco killed his father?”

I meet her eyes and shake my head. “No.Ikilled Giuliano Moretti.”

“You?” Isabella looks half inclined not to believe me.

I put a finger to my lips and wink before opening the front door.

“Where are you going?” she shouts after me.

“To clean up your mess,” I reply as I march forward. “Stay inside.”

“There are at least twelve of them!”

I turn so that I’m walking backward. “So if I die, my death can be on your hands.”

I spin back around before she can protest and head toward the main gate.

The property doesn’t have a huge footprint, but when the gates are open, you usually get a pretty nice view of Staten Island. On a nice day, even the Statue of Liberty can be spotted along the river.

But the reason I chose it was for the quieter, residential area and the millionaire neighbors who turn a blind eye to whatever you might be doing behind closed doors.

And, well, with the gates closed…

There’s a small shed by the gate. It’s inconspicuous enough, although it takes me a moment to open the padlocks on the door.Within the shed is a monitor that displays the same feed that I have running inside.

Here, I get a better look at what I’m dealing with.

Twelve men exactly. Some are still attempting to climb the gate, while others are just leaning against it, clearly just waiting to get a reaction out of me.

I wait until the next person tries to make the scramble up before pressing the button.

The dull hum of electricity reaches me a split second before the screams. I watch in delight as six of the cartel immediately drop to the ground.

The metal gate is the perfect anti-home invasion measure, as long as you don’t inform the HOA.

After a second of watching the others scramble to help their friends, I click on another button.

“Can I help you?” I speak into the microphone, knowing that it’s projecting my voice to those who are still conscious.

One of the remaining cartel members roars in frustration and throws himself at the gate to try and open it. Only I haven’t turned off the electricity yet. He falls just as hard as his comrades.

“Anyone else?” I comment dryly, earning me a few glares. “All right. I suggest you leave my property before your intrusion becomes tiresome.”

One of the men steps forward, hands shoved into his pockets to appear at ease. I recognize him immediately as the man who sat next to Isabella at the bar.

“Teo Vitale!” he yells loud enough for me to hear. “We know she’s in there. Come out and talk to us! Or are you just a coward, hiding behind these walls just like you did with Rocco Moretti?”

It’s a pathetic jab at my ego and not one I care to rise to. “You have twenty seconds.”

“So what? The Italians are banding together now? If my enemy was that hot, I’d be throwing away my pride, too.”

“Ten seconds.”

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