Page 15 of The Bonventi Hitman
"Wrong answer."
I drag him to a steel beam and secure him with rope from my pack. His pleas echo through the warehouse, but they fall on deaf ears. This is business, and I need answers.
"The hit at the Irish party," I say, grabbing a rusty iron bar. "Why?"
For a moment, Sofia's terrified face flashes through my mind—the way she looked when the shooting started. I grip the bar tighter, using the memory to fuel my rage.
"Ivan thinks it's time for Enzo's run in Chicago to end," he finally spits out.
Ivan fucking Morozkin. The Siberian.
I bring the bar down on his leg. The crack of bone is satisfying. "What does that mean?"
Through his screams, he gasps, "He wants him out. All of you damn Italians out."
"And the Irish?"
Another strike.
"Why attack both families?"
"A message," he barely gets out. "A warning."
I pause, looking at him. "Was there a target?"
"Please. I just run the trucks..."
I go to swing the iron bar again, and he puts up his hands to stop me.
"The Irish! They wanted something," he finally breaks. "They’ve been making deals behind Enzo's back. But Ivan changed his mind. Wants everything for himself."
Fuck.
The implications hit me hard. The Russians and Delaneys working together? This could change everything.
I pull out my burner phone, call Nicky to come and deal with taking the semi back to one of our warehouses. Then I end the Russian's suffering with a single shot.
Driving away, I dial Enzo. He needs to know everything.
"Gabriel. What is it?" His voice is sharp.
"We've got a situation. A big one." I take a deep breath, preparing myself for his reaction.
Enzo's voice lowers. "What happened?"
"I did the thing. Spoke to one of them, and it turns out they were working with the Delaneys until the Siberian decided he didn't need them."
Silence fills the line, and I hear Enzo's breathing become heavier. "The Irish? You sure?"
"The Russian was in no position to lie."
Enzo’s quiet before speaking. "Did he say why? What the fuck happened between them?"
"Seems Ivan pulled the plug on splitting Chicago. Guess the hit at the party was to let the Delaneys know."
I take a deep breath and wait for his response, knowing this stings. We've had a good relationship with the Irish for a long time. Enzo's friendship with them goes back at least 20 years or more.
"Christ. The Russians and the Delaneys working together—what a goddamn mess," Enzo says with a heavy sigh. "Stay sharp, Gabe. There's no telling what anyone will do next."
