Raw Bloody Power

Chapter 33

33

GUERRA brOTHERS

Rio

“ Stay. Away. From Koshka. Do you understand me?”

My dad’s warning rings out in my mind for the millionth time since leaving the penthouse. In this moment? It means shit to me. This isn’t in relation to family business anyway. It’s personal.

Really fucking personal.

Koshka lacks any sort of common sense. If he were smart, he would’ve heeded my warning and stayed out of my city. Going after Ivory, though? In any capacity?

Wrong move, motherfucker.

Alvaro slips out of his A5 as I swing a leg over the Ducati and pull off my helmet. “I just want you to know how much I hate you right now,” he states. There’s a hint of humor to his tone, though mostly, he’s serious.

“What the fuck did I do?” I bark, really not in mood for anyone’s shit right now .

“I was with Cami, you asshole. That’s what.”

“Ah.” My lips quiver with a faint smirk. “Pussy, got it.”

He grumbles something about blue balls as we head into Papa Gino’s, but it fizzles out with Italian classics and soft chatter filtering through the restaurant. Frankie’s posted up at the front, leaned over the counter on his phone as usual. Leo, however, is nowhere to be found. At least not that I can see.

“Ma!” I call out, poking my head in through the delivery window.

Less than a minute later, she appears from the other side of the kitchen, sauce-stained apron around her waist. Her face lights up as she approaches. “My son.”

“Sons!” Alvaro blurts behind me.

Tittering softly, she pops a kiss to my cheek and shakes her head at my brother’s antics. “Give me a minute. I’ll be right out. Just need to pop the lasagna in the oven real quick.”

I don’t have a minute.

“Wait, where’s Leo?” I blurt after her.

“Back here!” he hollers.

“Get out here, bro!”

The clang of a ladle or a spatula hitting a metal pot rings out and before I can count to twenty, both Leo and my mom emerge from the back, intrigue and a hint of worriment scripted all over their faces. Franco joins the party, too, slithering up behind us with a cocked brow.

“Is everything okay?” Ma queries.

The look scripted all over her face tells me she’s already thinking something happened to Dino again. Fortunately for her, that’s not the case. Sadly, what I’m about to say won’t be much better in her book.

“I need Leo for a while tonight.”

As predicted, her brown eyes widen, then flick back and forth between me and Alvaro for a long beat. She wants to ask why. I can see it so clearly. After all, Leo’s gone this long without switching to other side of the family business, and he’s a master in the kitchen. But the question dies on her tongue. It was bound to happen eventually, and she knows it.

Franco’s not far off, either, sliding into my line of sight as if reading my mind. “What about me?” He’s chomping at the bit, has been for a while.

He’s not ready, though. Not remotely. Pa’s been so busy trying to keep Dino in line, he hasn’t given Franco the attention he both needs and deserves before joining the ranks.

For as much of a little shit as he is, and as much as he pisses me off, I hate to disappoint him. However, it’s not my call to make. I shake my head and return my attention to Leo, who’s already got that all too familiar gleam in his eyes as he rips off his apron and passes it to my mom. It’s the very same one I can often feel coursing through me; an excitement bred from darkness. It lives in our blood, passed on through generations of virulent, formidable Guerras.

“For how long?” Ma questions, her knuckles bleaching around Leo’s apron at the sight of him squeezing past her to join us. “I just need to know if I have to call someone else in for help.”

I’m sure this is one of those times she’s rethinking her life’s decisions and wonders why she allowed herself to get swept up by a man who belonged to the mafia.

Erasing the small space between us, I swallow her in my arms in an effort to comfort her. “An hour. Maybe two, but I doubt it.”

She nods into my chest, clinging me to as she murmurs, “Per l'amor di Dio, stai attento.” For the love of God, be careful.

“Always.” A kiss to the top of her head and slip out of her embrace.

“Help her,” I hear Leandro from behind me, a demand directed at Frankie, as we hightail it out the delivery doors to the parking lot. “Am I riding with one of you?” he asks.

“Not me. I’ve got somewhere to be after this.” Namely checking on Ivory, who’s texted me at least twice since I pulled a Houdini on her mid-conversation.

Sorry not sorry, Petal.

“So do I,” Alvaro concedes.

“We gotta stop at the gas station then. I’m on E.”

Of course he is.

“Fine. Make it quick,” I grumble, stuffing my head into my helmet.

Ten minutes later, we’re pulling into a Mobil right before the Lincoln Tunnel. Leo skirts his blacked-out Celica to a pump with Alvaro right behind him. I’m on their flank, flipping up my visor as Leo goes about filling his tank and Alvaro lowers his passenger window.

“Where are we going?”

I was hoping neither one of them would ask, but I should’ve known better. “Jersey.” That’s all I offer, noting the way his green eyes widen.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” he gripes. “Rio…”

“I know.” I hold a hand up. He doesn’t need to say it. “It’s not what you think.”

Well, it is, but not entirely. He has no clue about Ivory. Didn’t even know about us back in the day, either. I suppose that’s about to change…

“So you’re telling me we just so happen to be going to Jersey, where Koshka runs his shit show, but we’re not going there for him?”

“Woah, woah, hold up…did you just say Koshka?” Leo questions, coming around the back end of his car to join us. “I thought dad told you to fuck off him?”

My head flies back so hard, I almost give myself whiplash. “How the fuck do you know about that?”

“I might be stuck in that restaurant all day, but I’m not out of the loop, big bro. Pa asks me at least once weekly when I’m claiming my spot. Only reason I haven’t is because I don’t wanna leave Mom by herself. Frankie’s eating shit half the time, and Dino… well, we all know how that’s going. I’m all she’s got right now.”

“Let’s keep it that way, and both of you better keep your mouths shut while at you’re at it. This has nothing to do with family. It’s personal,” I mutter, glancing at Alvaro first before dragging my gaze over to Leo.

Both of them nod, but the downward curl of Alvaro’s lips as he rubs his scruff-dusted chin screams of disdain. He can light it on fire and shove it up his ass. If the shoe were on the other foot, I’d help him without question. Leo, on the other hand, doesn’t say another word as he heads back to his car.

I use the opportunity to fish out my phone and shoot Ivory a quick text. Not before re-reading hers, though.

8.42pm

He wanted to talk, but when he didn’t get his way, things took a rough turn.

Rio…

9:02pm

Please don’t do anything stupid.

My heart thrashes chaotically all over again, every drop of blood in my body grating through my veins like razor blades. I can almost hear it roaring through my ears beneath the confines of my helmet. I should’ve asked what ‘things took a rough turn’ meant exactly, but all rationality went out the window within seconds of reading that message. If he laid a singular finger on her…I laugh quietly just thinking about it.

He won’t have any by the time I’m done with him.

Me

Meet me in an hour. You know where. If I’m not there yet, just wait.

Leo’s Celica comes to life, the exhaust roaring and sputtering as he hits the gas a few times.

“Lead the way!” Alvaro yells over the ruckus.

Pocketing the device, I whip the visor shut with a flick of my head and pull out of the gas station in front of my brothers.

The Devil’s Backbone is right off the Jersey port, a quick cruise after veering off the Lincoln tunnel. We park haphazardly in front of the building and head straight for the front doors. I’m not going through some Mission Impossible type shit to get in. He’ll be protected here, I’m not an idiot, but if his men wanna play, I’m game.

My aim doesn’t miss.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Alvaro queries quietly behind me. “Dad’s gonna have your ass, bro.”

I shrug. Frankly, I don’t give a fuck. If he wants to reclaim my crown and pass it onto one of my brother’s instead—by all means. It would free up a lot of my time.

Time I could invest in winning my girl back.

“Stay alert and don’t hesitate. If anyone gets too close, blow their heads off.” And with that I throw open the doors, stalking into the distillery on adrenaline and pure unadulterated rage. “Ladies!” My voice carries through the open, brightly light space. “Someone point me in the direction of Benedikt Koshka.”

There are no ladies. They’re all men, closing in on me and my brothers with their weapons drawn. I count four but there could be more out of my peripheral. One comes at me head on and dares to get a little too close for my liking. Without an ounce of hesitation—as I warned my blood not thirty seconds ago—I lift the Glock and slam on the trigger, sending a bullet hurtling between his eyes. Both his body and the casing tumble to the distillery floor at the same time, though his body thuds, and the casing merely clatters.

“Jesus Christ, Rio,” Alvaro hisses behind me as blood now pools on the concrete .

The sight of it has the desired effect, though, because all movement ceases, drowning the room in silence. It’s so quiet, you can hear the crimson puddle crawling and spreading toward my feet.

“Do you guys understand English, or do I need to pull out a translator for you? Where. The fuck. Is Benedikt Koshka?” I growl.

“Right here.” His voice appears as a set of frosted glass doors slam open not far away. Buttoning his navy suit jacket, he starts toward me with a little pep in his long stride. “I would ask what I can do for you, but I see you’ve already made yourself at home and spit some lead, which leaves me less than inclined to cooperate.” A pistol surfaces from his waist, the barrel pointed straight at me.

If he’s aiming for intimidation, it does nothing.

“I don’t need you to cooperate, Koshka. Make it rain for all I care. I just have one question for you…”

Benedikt tilts his dark head aside, very corner of his mouth tipping along with it. “And that would be?”

“Do you have a fucking death wish?” I grind out.

Shuffling resounds behind me, likely his men attempting to move closer…until another bullet pops off.

“Unless you wanna end up like your boy, I suggest you stay where the fuck you are!” That comes from Leandro, internally puffing up my chest with pride.

He’s going to make one hell of a right hand. Not because Alvaro isn’t capable, he very much is. Alvaro’s strength is numbers, though. Leo has that natural grit needed for muscle.

Koshka lowers his pistol and erases only a mere steps between us, remaining at a safe distance. Probably for the best. “I thought we already discussed your little brother, but if you wanna go for round two?—”

“As much as I would love to shove every single one of those pills down your throat and watch you foam at the mouth, I’m not here for my brother,” I snarl viciously. “Does the name Ivory Katerina Belucci ring a bell to you?”

“Ah, Ivory. Tasty little thing, yeah?” He licks his lips and all, the sight twitching my finger against the trigger as the rumble of my displeasure reverberates from my chest. “I just saw her today, actually. Shame our conversation didn’t end as I’d hoped, though.”

He says as much, but there’s not a lick of remorse to be found. In fact, he seems quite pleased with himself, turning the blood in my veins into pure lava. My finger flutters against the trigger again, my jaw grinding almost painfully as every scenario possible of what he did to her plays out in my mind.

“ Stay. Away. From Koshka. Do you understand me?” my father’s voice rings out for the millionth time, a nagging reminder that I can’t allow anger to best me in this moment.

It’s the only reason I lower my weapon and holster it out of sight, my hands balling into fists at my sides. “That’s the problem. Wrong-fucking-move.”

“Interesting,” he says in what sounds like fascination. “I’m sensing a bit of a possessive edge to that statement. I was under the impression you two didn’t get along very well. Forgive me, I didn’t realize she was your plaything. ”

“Nix the plaything,” I carp. “She’s mine—full stop.”

“Really now? Is she aware or…” he squints for comedic effect, casting a finger side to side, “is this like an unrequited love type of thing?”

My legs carry me forward in a blur of movement. I step up to him, toe to toe, nothing but a breath separating us as my lip curls. “It’s an I’ll rip you limb from limb if you touch her again type of thing.”

“Temper, temper.” A dark chuckle thunders from his throat. “Probably shouldn’t mention she was begging me to fuck her then, huh?”

Now it’s me who laughs, my petty rushing to the forefront as I hit him with, “You think she fell from the heavens, and you bagged her on your own, don’t you?” At the hoist of his brow, I continue. “Hi, I’m fate. It’s nice to meet you.”

Still he says nothing, giving me the floor to elaborate.

“I sent her to you,” I croon with a grin. “To distract you. All the while my men were in here, fucking your shit up. So although you might’ve worked the Koshka charm and weaved her into your web of bullshit for five seconds, she’s been mine the whole time. Even when she and I weren’t on the same page, hellbent on ruining each other’s lives—she was mine. She always will be.”

“Sending your girl into the arms of another man? Wow…” he scoffs, shaking his head. “And you said I was impulsive.”

“I’ll show you impulsive,” I growl venomously, white-knuckling the front of his shirt as I slam him into the nearest wall. A hand shoots into my pocket and withdraws my trusty knife. One click and the blade flips open, glinting in the fluorescent lights for a single breath before I drag it down his face, carving a jagged line from his forehead down to his jaw.

Benedikt roars in agony, curving my lips in satisfaction as his weapon crashes against the concrete. His men spring into action, bullets whizzing past me in a storm of chaos, but that doesn’t deter my feet. I don’t even spare a glance back at my brothers—they can hold their own—blinded by the need to shed more of his blood. What’s streaming down his face onto my hand isn’t enough.

He hurt her, he fucking touched her…and I’m more than happy to play karma until he regrets his decisions to fuck with what’s mine.

The blade clatters somewhere beside his pistol as I reach for the Glock and dig it under his chin. “It would be far too easy for me to kill you. No, I want you to suffer , to live in a constant state of paranoia, wondering when— not if—I’m coming to collect. Don’t look down, Koshka, ‘cause you might not look up ever again.”

That’s the last thing that comes out of my mouth before I’m pulled off him and shoved toward the doors.

Another shove.

And another.

And another until the cool autumn air hits my face and I’m staring into the blanket of night.

“What the fuck, Rio!” Alvaro bellows vehemently.

When I spin around to face him, I immediately note the blood spatter streaked across his face, his breaths labored and erratic. Leo comes jogging out of the building in a similar state, eyeing me curiously.

I know what they’re gonna ask. It’s hanging over their heads in bright neon signs. But aside from a warning to keep their mouths shut, I don’t elaborate.

All they need to know is Ivory Belucci is off-limits for everyone.

Everyone except me.