Page 124 of Bratva Bride

Vincenzo blinked. “You wanna hit them during the day? You sure that’s wise? We don’t have anyone in Chicago PD, so we’ve got no one to cover for us.”

“Then we better be long gone before the cops arrive.” Arturo handed the iPad back and flicked his head to the side. “Go on.”

His brother nodded. “Leave it with me.” And then he left.

I looked at Arturo. His body was tight, tension rolling off him in waves as he stared off into space. His jaw was clenched, hands balled into fists at his side.

“Hey,” I whispered, running my fingers through his hair. “You okay?”

He took a deep breath and exhaled, some of the tension seeping away. “I will be once I put that fucker Franco in his place.”

“He’s been stepping into your territory a lot?”

“Yes, we’ve been killing off his dealers every time we find them selling in our territory, but dealers are a dime a dozen. There’s always people out there willing to sell drugs for a little extra cash.

I took his hand and sat him on the bed, moving behind him to massage his shoulders. He groaned and leaned into the touch. “What’s your plan?” I asked, loving the feel of all that hard, toned muscle beneath my fingers.

“We’re going to hit him where it hurts. Vin’s done some research and found out which of his businesses make the most cash. Of course, we’re talking legal tender here, not the shit he makes under the table. But by taking out his legitimate businesses, it’ll be harder for him to launder his money.”

Smart. It would be a real ‘fuck you’ to the asshole.

“Have you met him? Franco?” I asked, moving a little lower. His muscles flexed under my hand.

“No, and I don’t fucking want to, not unless I’m about to slit his throat.” He cracked his neck. “He’s smart, intuitive. He’s managed to do more damage in the week that he’s been Don than Nero did during his whole leadership.”

“I’ve noticed he’s a lot more organised than Nero was.”

Arturo glanced over his shoulder at me, his brows raised.

I smiled. “We’ve been keeping a close eye on him, too. The work he did on that MC gang in Chicago?” I blew out a whistle. “Gotta admire the guy’s style.”

Arturo grunted, turning back around. Tension still rippled from him and I wanted desperately to make it disappear, but I didn’t know how.

I sighed. “About Gabriella-”

He groaned, his head falling forward. “Illayana-”

“No, just hear me out. I understand where you’re coming from, that if you’re not seen protecting your people it could be bad for you. But you need to understand that if she keeps acting the way she’s acting, I’m going to put her in her place. I’m just warning you.”

He stood and loomed over me. He gripped my face, slipping his fingers into my hair and tilted my head back until I was staring right into his eyes. “I love when you get all bloodthirsty,” he murmured against my lips.

I smiled. “Good, because that’s 99% of my personality.”

He chuckled and nipped my bottom lip before pulling back. “Come on, get dressed. We’ve got to get moving. It’s time Franco realised who he’s fucking with.”

* * *

When we pulled up in front ofTrattoria’s, the restaurant owned by Franco, my heart pounded so hard with excitement and adrenaline I could barely sit still.

Arturo was planning this offensive attack as retaliation for all the shit that the Outfit had pulled in his territory. One of which was the murder of one of his Capos, Gabriella’s father and several of their dealers. He was after blood, and he wasn’t going to leave until he got it.

On my left, Lukyan pulled out his gun and checked the chamber. Adrian did the same, an evil look on his face.

“Alright, listen up,” Arturo barked, demanding the attention of everyone in the car. His voice rang through the small space as well as in the earpiece in my ear, and all eight of us looked at Arturo, listening intently. “This is a quick in and out, no fucking around. We need to be long gone before the cops show up. When you get inside, light the fucking place up. This is Franco’s main restaurant, everyone inside is one of his so I don’t give a fuck what happens to them. But I want at least one left alive. We enter through the front and leave out the back, where another car will be waiting to take us away.”

A laptop sat in Arturo’s lap, showing a surveillance feed of inside the restaurant. There were about twenty patrons inside - all men, with a few women as waitstaff. I took a second to familiarise myself with the layout. It was basic; filled with circular tables and a long bar that ran the length of the entire side wall. In the back was a kitchen and there was a restroom tucked away on the right.

Arturo put his phone to his ear. “Vin, are you ready?”

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