Enforcer’s Obsession

Chapter 26

TWENTY-SIX

Nico

“Where’s Sebastian?” Enzo asked.

“You know where he is,” I responded gruffly.

Enzo looked at me skeptically. “Don’t you think we need him for this?”

We’re sitting in the back of a panel van, and I glared at him, though I could merely make him out in the darkness.

“He’s exactly where I asked him to be. Do you have any more questions, or can we fucking do this?” I said.

My cousin, to his credit—and my annoyance—didn’t bat an eyelash.

“Nico, get your fucking head on straight. I don’t know what’s going on with you and Hope, but now is not the time. It would have been easy enough for you to just say that you left Sebastian with Hope because you didn’t want her to be unprotected. Instead you act like a lovesick fool and leave me to wonder if you’re ready for this. Because if you’re not, call it off. I would take a bullet for you, and for this family, but not because you’re not focused. So get you’re your poop in a group,” he said.

I laughed out loud. “‘Poop in a group’?”

If I didn’t know him better, I’d think Enzo was blushing.

But Enzo didn’t blush.

He shrugged. “I heard it somewhere and it fits the situation.”

I said nothing.

I couldn’t.

Because what if his accusation was true?

Hope was still at my house, but even though my body wasn’t there with her physically, that was exactly where my mind was.

Which was exactly the reason I needed to keep my distance and even more proof that I was playing a dangerous game with her.

A game that I was going to lose.

I looked at my cousin, then nodded, feeling calmer.

“You’re right. But I’m here. We need to do this, and now.”

Enzo studied me, and then nodded his head.

I pounded the roof of the van, and a split second later, the ignition engaged and we were off.

Not the way I would have done things were I control, but given the limited resources Don Carlo had allocated, I was confident in this direction.

Taking on the Genevoise head up with so few resources would have been a suicide mission.

But this….

The plan was simple, and all the more devious for it.

The Genevose capo I’d been following had paid off. We’d been tailing him all over the city and had finally found the house that was the heart of the Genevose operation. Hitting this location would leave them starving for liquid cash, and then the pieces would fall into place. Nothing sowed tension more than desperation, and once the cash was gone, I’d let the Genevose tear themselves apart.

And what comes after?

I tried to ignore the voice in my head, because I knew what came after.

Hope would go.

I told myself that was what I wanted.

And that wasn’t entirely a lie.

I didn’t want Hope gone, but I wanted the threat against her removed, so I would do this, and like everything else, do it well.

“Two minutes out,” the voice in my earpiece said.

I looked at Enzo, nodded, and after he gave me another confirmation, we both pulled on a black ski mask.

This was an in-and-out job, grab the cash, slip away before anyone was the wiser.

We were armed, never knowing what we might face, but we traveled light.

The brownstone was nothing special, one of thousands that littered the city.

You would look at it and think that over three million in cash was inside.

But there was.

The Genevose worked in a cash business, foolish in this day and age, but in some cases unavoidable. Before that cash could be cleaned, it had to be held somewhere.

And I was about to hit the jackpot.

“Let’s go,” I said.

The van stopped three blocks away from the brownstone.

Farther than was ideal, but I knew surveillance was heavy around this spot. We crossed through the alley that bisected two of the blocks. I peeked around the corner and saw nothing on the streets.

It was quiet, almost ominous, but it was also one in the morning. I had pulled the building’s plans and knew that there was a basement apartment, one that would be our point of entry.

Enzo held up a small black box, one no bigger than a cell phone. In fifteen seconds, he had decrypted the electronic lock’s passcode. I allowed myself a moment’s excitement when the red light flashed green, but then refocused. The basement was completely dark, so we pull down our night vision and made our way through.

It was unorganized, empty boxes and papers spread about. I wondered if that was intentional, a way to create barriers to the rest of the unit, or if the Genevose were just that fucking messy.

I knew Hope would have a fit if she saw this, but quickly cut off the train of thought.

This was three stories, and if I knew the Genovese—and I definitely did—the money would be on the first floor.

Most novices would think hide it, leave it on the third floor, but no. Money had to be kept on hand, neatly packed, in case be stash house needed to be abandoned quickly.

There was another keycode on the door leading up from the basement of the brownstone.

It fell as easily as the other.

Enzo opened the door silently, and we were on the move.

The heat-signature scan I had done before we came in had revealed four people on the third floor, presumably men. No one had moved for fifteen minutes. If they stayed where they were for five more, I’d be gone without any of them having to die.

Just as I anticipated, to the left of the front door was the money room.

Another keypad lock and a conventional lock for good measure.

“Fuck,” I grumbled.

I couldn’t make out Enzo’s face, but I knew he was grim as I was.

Still, we were prepared.

I kept watch while cousin made quick work of the padlock.

Ninety more seconds, and we were in.

There were four large black duffel bags, a safe, and a table with eight money counters laid on top.

A standard set up, and I ignored everything but the duffel bags.

It wouldn’t be all their cash, but it be enough to send them into the tailspin that I wanted.

Enzo lifted two, and I grabbed the two others, taking a second to adjust to the weight.

Then we were out.

Enzo went ahead, and I followed, not bothering to close the door behind me.

I also didn’t disturb the men upstairs.

Most in my place would have eliminated them, but I let them live. Not out of any particular charity, but because doing so would only sow more seeds of suspicion.

If a stickup crew, or rival family were behind it, the Genovese would expect that any men at the stash house be killed.

Another fun mystery for them to untangle.

We made our way down the stairs, and too late, I heard something stir behind me.

When the duffel bags were secured, I grabbed at the weapon in the holster strapped to my leg. Turned, and at the very instant saw the flash and heard the muffled sound of the shot.

Felt the familiar sting, but didn’t let it stop me from returning fire.

“Go!” I yelled.

Enzo took off, and I followed, still shooting as I moved down the basement stairs backward, then out the door.

I wasn’t sure if I hit anyone, but I didn’t stop to check.

My arm was burning, but Enzo was out in front of me, and I had the cash.

I was winded, but so high on adrenaline that I didn’t feel the pain of the shot.

We threw the bags in the van, and were off.

“You hit?” Enzo said.

He pulled the ski mask off, his dark hair standing on end, his face flushed.

“It’s nothing,” I said.

The sting had intensified, but I barely paid any attention.

I couldn’t, not when every thought in my brain was about her.

That could have gone worse.

If the asshole who’d shot didn’t have shit aim, I’d be dead now.

The truth was, I had made my peace with that years ago, so I wasn’t afraid of dying.

But the thought of dying without her knowing how I felt about her…

That was something I couldn’t accept.

But it was also something I couldn’t confess.

“Tell Don Carlo we got something for his retirement fund,” I said to Enzo when we made it back to the safe house.

He nodded but didn’t linger as the doctor patched up my wound.

It’s a little more than a scrape,” the old man said. “A couple of stitches, a little ointment, and you’ll be good as new.”

I nodded, but didn’t speak, my mind swirling.

Finally, he was finished, I cleaned up as I usually would. But instead of the exhilaration of a job well done, if not perfectly, I was still preoccupied with her.

So much so that the drive back to my place passed with almost no memory.

I sent Sebastian away, and then, finally, went to her.

She looked at me, then looked at my arm.

“What happened?”

“Nothing important. But, Hope, I need to tell you something.”