Page 50 of The Empress
“Okay.”
I end the call and hurry to put on a suit. I grab my gun from beneath the pillow and check the magazine before tucking it into the back of my pants.
When I open the door of my hotel room, Massimo comes walking from the direction of his room.
“Dante just informed me that Sabastiano is on foot. He must have a place somewhere near the club.”
“Let’s go,” I mutter.
We hurry to the elevators, and the ride down to the first floor feels way too fucking long.
By the time we climb into the SUV, five minutes have passed. I pull my phone out and send Dante a message.
Leo: Do you still have eyes on Sabastiano?
It takes a few seconds before my man replies.
Dante: No. He went into a house. I’m out front. The rest of the guys just pulled up. Sending you the address.
Leo: Wait for me.
Our phones beep as the address comes through.
I read it to Massimo so he doesn’t take his eyes off the road.
“Got it,” my right-hand man mutters.
When we near the house, I see Dante waving at us. Massimo pulls over to the side of the road and switches off the engine.
We climb out and glance at my other three men, who are keeping an eye on the house. The six of us should be more than enough to take down one man.
“He’s still inside,” Dante informs us. “How do you want to handle this, boss?”
“Kick in the door,” I order.
“Mattia, you and Ricco go around the back,” Dante orders before we make our way to the front door while he screws a silencer onto his gun.
He points at the lock and fires a shot at it, then throws his shoulder into the door, which shudders open.
With our weapons drawn, we follow Dante into the house that smells like stale takeout and dirty socks.
Sabastiano runs from the living room on our left into the kitchen on our right, and Dante takes a shot at the fucker.
We rush into the kitchen, in time to see Sabastiano yank open the back door. Mattia’s fist slams into the fucker’s face, dropping him on his ass.
Dante hauls Sabastiano onto one of the kitchen chairs while my men spread out through the house to make sure there areno surprises. While Dante shuts the back door, I stop in front of Sebastiano and stare down at him.
With his head lowered and blood dripping on his jean-clad thigh, he mutters, “Sorry, boss.”
My voice is mercilessly cold as I demand, “Why did you do it?”
He shakes his head, then glances up, giving me a pleading look. “Money.”
“How much did your loyalty cost?” Massimo growls.
“I’m sorry,” Sabastino sobs.
“Klodian died because of you,” I growl while I tuck my gun into my pants behind my back. “Everything went to shit because of you!” I lunge at the fucker, grabbing his shirt with my left hand while my other fist connects with his jaw.
