Page 117 of Demanding Mob Boss

She just shakes her head though. "Remember, friend, we're all different. Not better. Not worse. Just different and that's good."

"Because otherwise life would be boring," I finish.

Elliott says, "Amen to that."

As hard as it is for me to have so many people around, I'm glad they're all here as the evening darkens to night. We haven't heard anything from Cian, or the others and I'm worried. Having the extra people gives my anxiety a more manageable outlet than my fear he'll be hurt.

Chapter 37

CIAN

El Fantasma'shouse has a six-foot high brick wall surrounding it. No broken glass at the top. No electrified barbwire. Just a useless, easily scalable brick wall and motion sensors that are already disabled.

The dogs would be a bigger problem if they hadn't already been neutralized with tranquilizers. We aren't here to kill animals conscripted and trained to protect the cartel scum.

Martina and Bernardino don't expect to be attacked here. They think no one will find their base. Maybe if they were in another fucking city, not Chicago, where we own the streets and those we don't control, our allies do.

Connor and one of my other enforcers breaches the north wall while the other one and I go over the south. Christakos's team splits in two and breaches from the east and west.

Using a fingertip lift, I pull myself to the top of the wall and drop silently to the ground on the other side of the wall. A muffled thud tells me the enforcer with me is over too.

"In," I say over the comms. The other three teams confirm their breaches.

"Scáth?"

"I have a bead on the front guard," my sniper replies over the ear comms.

His name is Oscar, but his military unit called him Scáth and it stuck. Irish for shadow, it fits the man whose kills will never see his face.

I say, "Go."

A few seconds later, Christakos confirms, "Front guard down."

After that things go fast. I take out the south guard while the others eliminate their targets. Suppressors don't completely mask the sound of a shot, so I don't waste any time telling my tech guy to take out the power and its backup.

We converge on the house from all sides.

My enforcer and I shoot out the bullet resistant glass on a window in unison. The armor piercing rounds shatter it a microsecond before we dive into the darkened dining room, tucking and rolling in opposite directions.

I come up on one knee and take in the room. My night vision goggles allow me to see what I need to.

A shot comes at me from my left and I spin on my knee to face the threat, aiming and shooting in one smooth movement. I hit my target twice. I don't shoot to kill. None of us are, now that we're inside the house.

We have to confirm Martina and Bernardino's identities before we dispose of the rest of their people.

I hit the shooter in the leg and shoulder of his gun arm. He goes down and I stalk toward him on silent feet, trusting my enforcer to have my back and be covering the other side of the room.

Kicking his gun away, I drop beside him, putting mine to his head. "Name?"

He curses at me in Spanish. Wearing tactical gear, it's unlikely this is Bernardino, the doctor, but I take the time necessary to compare his face to the picture we have of Carmen's husband.

It's not him.

I shoot the soldier in the head and look toward the door to the hall. My enforcer nods. "Dining room clear," I say.

I head upstairs, my enforcer and Christakos behind me. The rest of the teams are clearing the first floor room by room. We split off at the top of the stairs, each of us taking a door.

The house plans we studied show that there are two master bedrooms, one at each end of the hall. If Martina and her lover are smart, they don't sleep in the same room every night.

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