Bound By A Promise (Brutal Vows #3)

Chapter 30

Chapter

Thirty

Dante

“ C amila, I heard about your exciting news. I hope el Patr?n didn’t force you to marry an Italian. Cat gave me your number. Call if we can help you. Wish you the best.” Catalina looked up at us. “I haven’t given Camila’s number to anyone, no one recently.”

I tried to make sense out of the message. “I hope el Patr?n didn’t force you to marry an Italian. What the actual fuck?”

Catalina shook her head. “I don’t recognize the number, and they didn’t identify themselves.”

Aléjandro took the phone and reread the message. “Someone from our cartel? Someone against the alliance?”

“Camila’s friends wouldn’t say I gave them her number. They would also come up with a name.”

“Shit, fuck.” I fisted my hair.

“Herrera?” Aléjandro asked.

“Ana?” Catalina questioned. “I haven’t communicated with her since right after my wedding.” She took the phone from Aléjandro. “No. Ana is in Mexico. This isn’t an international number.”

“Someone in California,” Dario hypothesized. He typed something into his phone. “Yes, the area code 310 is California—Los Angeles and Ventura Counties and Santa Catalina Island.”

Aléjandro hit my shoulder. “Catalina Island is nearly fifty miles off the coast. It used to be considered part of México, but now it’s California.”

“In international waters?” Mia asked.

“Yeah.”

My words were more of a growl. “I’ll fucking fly back to California.”

“I’m going with you,” Aléjandro said.

“No.” Dario lifted his hands. “Not yet. Camila has only been gone for less than an hour. Armando had soldiers headed to airports. I don’t want the two of you going off headstrong, causing a war with Herrera in international waters.”

“I’m not interested in starting a war, just cutting off his balls.”

My brother’s nostrils flared as he stared at me.

“Fine, I won’t get into a plane. But I can’t stand around here any longer.” I looked at my brother. “The women should be taken back to our home. Mia’s pregnant and Valentina is a wreck.”

Dario nodded. “Give Camila’s phone to me. I’ll take it to Lorenzo at Emerald Club. He should probably sweep it anyway. There might be some clues on there.”

“Can he find out where the text message originated from?” I asked.

“I’ll ask him.”

I looked at Aléjandro with Mia at his side. “Stay with Mia. I’m going to head out to Lee’s Summit. It’s the airport the cartel used for the wedding.”

“Did Herrera use it too?” Dario asked.

“I don’t know, but I can’t not be doing something.”

Aléjandro kissed Mia’s hair and turned to me. “I’m going with you.”

“Take Nico and Luca,” Dario said, motioning the two soldiers in our direction.

“Four won’t fit in my car,” I said.

Dario reached out his hand. “Give me your keys. I’ll have Giovanni drive your car back. You take one of the sedans.”

“My car’s faster.”

“You’d probably end up pulled over for speeding from some rookie cop who hasn’t learned the power of the Luciano name. Then we’re all fucked.”

Aléjandro gave Dario the keys to my Aston Martin as I took the driver’s seat of the sedan. My brother-in-law was at my side, and Nico and Luca sat in the back seat, armed like us.

“Lee’s Summit is small,” Nico said. “Hard to sneak in and out of.”

“An international airport is hard to sneak in and out of,” I said. “In a small airport, fewer people ask questions.”

I met Luca’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Find out if Armando sent soldiers to Lee’s Summit and let them know we’re on our way. GPS says it will be twenty-six minutes.” I turned to Aléjandro. “My Aston Martin is much faster.”

About fifteen minutes into our drive, Luca received a call. “It’s Enrico. He’s at Lee’s Summit.”

Enrico was young, but a promising soldier in our famiglia. I had my eye on him to help run Emerald Club with Antonio. “Put him on speaker,” I said, pushing the accelerator.

“Rico,” Luca said, “you’re on speaker. Dante is here.”

“Boss, this isn’t the right airport.”

I struck the steering wheel with the butt of my hand. “Maybe they’re not there yet.”

“Could be. Only one vehicle has come in since we arrived. It’s a rusty old Ford pickup truck. Bench seat. I checked the bed, nothing but junk. They don’t speak English.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention. “Spanish?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

Doesn’t exactly sound like someone who would be flying on a private plane. “What are they doing there?”

“We can’t exactly have a conversation. They parked near a hangar with a Cessna 182.”

That’s not a big plane.

“Fuck,” I growled.

“Don’t let them take off. We’re getting off 470.”

“Got it, boss.”

“Spanish,” Aléjandro said. “Oldest trick in the book to pretend you suddenly forgot Inglés .”

The speedometer went higher as I passed on both the left and the right, weaving around cars on the exit ramp and onto the two-lane road. Fuck the police. If they try to pull me over, they can follow me all the way to the airport.

To my side, Aléjandro pulled his gun from his holster, inspecting his weapon. Both of the men in the back were doing the same.

For better or worse, no one tried to pull me over.

Considering the firepower in this car, it was for the better. Taking out some rookie cop for doing his job would piss off the members of the KCPD currently on our payroll.

As soon as I brought the car to a stop, the four of us jumped out. We ran through the empty small airport out to the tarmac. The two men with the hand tug attached to the Cessna looked up at us as we ran toward them.

Their guns became visible too late.

Enrico was shot at close range.

“Fuck,” I yelled, my gun pointed.

Aléjandro shot first, taking down one of the men. I shot the second in the leg as Luca shot the gun from his hand. “Don’t kill him. I want information.” I looked down at Enrico. They’d aimed at his head. I scrunched my nose, knowing he wasn’t alive. Fuck, I hated telling wives their husbands were dead.

Aléjandro ran up to the man injured in the leg, speaking in Spanish too fast for me to understand even if I could. The man was yelling back at him.

“Look in the truck,” I said to our soldiers.

“Just junk in the bed, like Rico said.”

“The plane?” I questioned, jogging to the open door. The four-seater plane was empty. “Goddamn it,” I cursed, hitting the plane with the butt of my gun. The tin can echoed. I stopped, standing perfectly still. “Did you hear something?”

Aléjandro stood, kicking the man with his boot. “He’s not talking.”

“He’s guilty of something,” I said. “No one starts shooting who isn’t.”

“I can make him talk.” Aléjandro’s eyes darkened. “Do you know a place where we can have more privacy?”

“Gag him,” I said to Luca. “Stop his bleeding. Bind his arms and legs and put him in the trunk of the car.” I looked at the two dead men. “And call a cleanup crew. The boss doesn’t like us to leave bodies.”

I turned toward the plane, certain I heard a noise. I looked at Aléjandro. “Did you hear that?”

It was then I noticed the small door on the side of the plane.

“Cessnas have two small luggage-storage compartments. Not big enough for a person,” Aléjandro said.

“Camila isn’t a child, but she’s not big.” I walked to the plane and opened the door. “Fucking Christ.”

My wife looked so fucking fragile as I pulled her from the compartment. Aléjandro had his knife unsheathed and quickly sliced the ropes binding her wrists and her ankles as I removed her gag. With her cradled to my chest, I walked around the plane.

My chest heaved with sobs.

I didn’t cry.

I don’t cry .

I hadn’t fucking cried since I was a boy.

Crying was a hard no with my father.

Camila’s hand palmed my cheek. “Dante, I love you. I’m okay. You saved me. I knew you would.”

Although snot dripped from my nose and salty water leaked from my eyes, I kept my voice strong. “I thought I lost you.” I extended my arms to see her in her entirety. “Did they hurt you? What did they do to you?”

She lifted her hands. Her wrists were red and chafed from the ropes.

“We’ll get you home and call a doctor.”

Again, her hand came to my cheek as she stretched her neck, bringing her lips to mine. She tasted like a fucking ray of sunshine and smelled of cinnamon.

“I can walk.”

“No, I’m carrying you.” I wiped my nose against my shoulder. “You’re never leaving the house again.”

“I heard them talking.”

I kissed her forehead. “We’ll talk in the car.”

When we came from around the plane, Aléjandro was on his phone with a smile on his face.

“Mia?” I asked.

He nodded. “She’ll spread the word.”

“Tell her we’re bringing Camila home. And you’re driving.” I watched as Nico picked the man off the ground, his hands and feet now bound. “Stuff him in the back of the plane and wait for the cleanup crew. Take him to Emerald Club, the basement.” I looked at Aléjandro, and he nodded. “No one touches him. We’ll be over later to question him.”

I carried Camila to the car in front of the airport. She lay with her head in my lap as we settled into the back seat and Aléjandro got in behind the steering wheel. “Home, driver.”

He met my stare in the rearview mirror. “Fuck you.”

My cheeks rose in a smile as I stared down at my wife. “Do you sprinkle cinnamon on yourself after you shower?” I asked my wife.

“It’s perfume. It’s call Queens and Monsters by Henry Rose.”

I smoothed her hair away from her beautiful face, inspecting her for any signs of injury. Whatever I found on her, the man headed to Emerald Club would feel five hundred times more. “Queens and Monsters,” I repeated. “That’s us.” I looked up at my brother-in-law. “All of us. You, Catalina, and Mia are the queens.”

“You’re not a monster,” Camila said.

She didn’t know what I had planned for the man back at the club. I might not be a monster with the woman I loved, but there was a monster inside me, and he was coming out tonight.