Page 78 of The Don's Hidden Heir

“I don’t know much,” he mutters. “But I do know the boss will call you tonight. We were supposed to meet them at the warehouse by the port at lower Manhattan tonight.”

“Good boy.” I give praise when it’s due. “I’d like to show you a little mercy, but you called that fuckerbossin front of me, and like I said, earlier. No mercy.” I raise myself to my feet and hit him with my shoe until his head cracks open.

What a waste.

When I turn away from him, Vincent is behind me, his nose scrunched. “You’re so messy, bro,” he says, clearly disgusted. I don’t see the phone in his hand until he shoves it at me. “Marcus is on the line.”

One of the bodyguards hands me a white hand towel and I wipe the blood off my hands before I take the phone from Vincent. “’Got anything for me?”

“Checked the CCTV cameras, looks like they’re headed to lower Manhattan.”

I glance at the puddle of blood on the floor. “Vincent brought home two Russians. Kirill had a hand in this, and one of them said the same thing about meeting at the port.”

“You know it’s you he wants right?”

“I know, and I’m going to give him exactly what he wants.”

Marcus sighs. “It’s a trap. You can’t just walk into it.”

I ignore my brother’s concern. “I’ll get the guns ready. Pick me up in thirty minutes. Dante and the other guys can follow discretely.”

I promised my son I was going to bring his mom home by morning, and I’m going to do just that.

Chapter Twenty-One

Dominic

Dark clouds cover the sky by the time I get to the port. It’s freezing cold out here and a heavy breeze whispers hymns of death in my ears as itwhooshesby.

Marcus is with me, the other men—about ninety of them—will join us in a few minutes. Kirill hadn’t tried to temper with any of the CCTV cameras and that can only mean on thing, he was expecting me to come.

He knew I’d fallfor his trap.

What he doesn’t know though, is that he’ll end up being caught up in his own web tonight.

“You ready?”

Marcus nods. “Are you?”

I nod.

We search the warehouses until we find one that is lit. “This must be the one,” Marcus says.

“It is.”

We prowl to the warehouse, but two bodyguards emerge from the darkness just as we’re about to enter. I remove the gun tucked in my holster and it takes only two bullets to bring their lives to an end.

Marcus smiles. “Good shot, brother. You haven’t lost your touch.”

“As if I would,” I retort grimly.

Kirill and Federico are sitting across the entrance when we enter the warehouse, they’re surrounded by bodyguards—about fifty of them, all armed and ready to take down two men.

Pussies!

I scan the room for Elena, but I can’t see her anywhere. “Where the fuck is she?”

“Easy now, boy,” Kirill says, his voice gruff with a thick Russian accent and the arrogance he wears like badly fitted armor. “Try shit with me and the bitch dies.”

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