In the Crossfire Read online

  Then finally, there was Dominic, Anthony’s one and only son, thirty years old. As far as I knew, he didn’t do any of the killing for his father. He was the one who negotiated with the other mafia families in the city.

  Isaiah nodded at Marco and stepped to the side. Marco rapped on the door twice, and that was when I heard Anthony’s voice, beckoning us in. Marco opened the door, and I followed him in. The study was huge, with shelves of books on one side and a couch and two leather chairs on the other, a bar stocked with liquor settled off to one side. Anthony was at his desk, facing the wall of windows, with his back to us. The only thing I could see was the top of his gray head.

  “Welcome, Mr. Collman. Glad you decided to come see me.” It was hard to believe I was so close to him and there was nothing I could do. He swiveled around in his chair, and our eyes met.

  “Was there really a choice?” I countered.

  Anthony burst out laughing. His teeth were perfectly straight and white. Looking at him, you’d think he was in politics. It was clear he was a man with power—he exuded it. He stood and walked around his desk, dressed in a crisp dark blue button down and khaki slacks, holding out his hand. “There’s always a choice, young man. I mean you no harm.”

  I scoffed and shook his hand. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  Anthony chuckled again, clearly taken by surprise. “I like you. I wasn’t sure you were who I thought you were, but after watching you the past few weeks, I have no doubt.” He backed up toward his desk and crossed his arms over his chest, studying me. “After all these years, I’m just wondering why your family decided to come back.”

  “Who exactly do you think I am?” I asked.

  If his men were to look me up, they’d see what I wanted them to see, that I was one of Sonny Collman’s sons. Sonny did have two sons, but they both died in the same car accident. Overwrought with grief, Sonny took his own life a month later. Those records were only privy to the FBI. There was no way Anthony or his men could find out that information. Sonny’s father, George Collman, was known for his many bank robberies. It was that money that helped the Collmans escape to Canada and disappear without a trace.

  Anthony nodded for Marco to close the door, and I heard the door click shut behind me. He walked over to the small bar in the corner, and poured two glass tumblers full of whiskey. When he offered one to me, I accepted it.

  “Have a seat,” he said, motioning to one of the leather seats by the bar. Marco stood by the door, and I sat down while Anthony took the chair across from me, keeping his gaze directly on mine. “I always wondered what happened to the Collman family. My father had great respect for them and vice versa. He told me stories that would make even the strongest men shudder. Unfortunately, I never had the privilege of meeting any of your kin. You wouldn’t have been born at the time they disappeared.”

  I had no choice but to go along with it all. It was the only way to get in on the inside. “You’re right. I wasn’t,” I said, gauging his reaction.

  He smiled as if he’d just won the lottery. “So, it is true. I knew it. Why after all this time has your family decided to come back?”

  I took a sip of the whiskey. “They haven’t.”

  His brows furrowed. “Is it just you, or are there others?”

  “Right now, just me. My family’s been keeping tabs on everyone and everything. I figured while I was here, I’d take care of some business.”

  Still grinning, he tossed back his whiskey. “It appears some of that business has helped me out tremendously.”

  I already knew what he was talking about. “How’s that?” I asked.

  He shrugged and set his glass down on the table in front of us. “There are two men who stole money from me. They disappeared and took the money with them. Imagine my surprise when Marco finds you putting a bullet through their skulls.”

  Those two men worked in Anthony’s underground casino just below the hotel we were in. What he didn’t know was that those two men loved to drug women and rape them. One was also charged with selling child pornography, and the system let him go. I often wondered if Anthony had a part in letting them go free. If so, it only added to one of the many reasons I wanted him dead.

  Setting my glass of whiskey down on the table, I leaned back in my chair. “What do you want with me, Mr. Corsino?”

  Anthony’s eyes narrowed. “I want to know why you killed them.”

  I shrugged. “My family wanted them dead.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The Circle of Justice was my family; he just didn’t know which family I was referring to.

  “How did you find them? I had every resource available and still never managed to.”

  If he only knew who he was talking to. My computer skills, along with my brother’s, were something we learned through special FBI training and access. “I have my ways,” I replied with a smug grin. “Just like I knew each and every time your men followed me.” A look of shock passed across his face, but he tried to hide it. I needed him to know how good I was.

  “Who else do they want dead?” he asked. “Me?”

  I shook my head. “No. Like you said, our families respected each other. I’m only here to scout out the territories, and then I’ll be gone.”

  A commotion sounded just outside the door, and a woman’s frantic voice called out for her father. The study door slammed open, and there she was…Layla Corsino. She had long, bright blonde hair, and was wearing a dark green cocktail dress that hugged every square inch of her body. My eyes were transfixed on her, and for the briefest of seconds, I was caught in her spell. She looked at me and froze, almost as if she was afraid of me. She wasn’t my target, but she was still the enemy. They should all be afraid of me.

  Anthony jumped up and rushed over to her. Isaiah stood in the doorway while Marco watched with concern. There was a hint of terror on Layla’s face, and confusion as she handed a cell phone to her father.

  “He’s gone,” she gasped, sounding out of breath. “Michael’s gone.”

  Anthony took the phone, his eyes blazing. “What do you mean, my brother’s gone?”

  Layla’s voice shook as she spoke. “He went with me to the Blue Diamond so I could meet Faith for dinner, and when he went out to get the car, he never came back. I got worried and went out to the parking lot.” She nodded at the phone. “His car door was open with the keys in the ignition, and his phone on the ground. I got right in and came here.”

  Anthony squeezed the phone in his hand and turned away from her. I could see the fury on his face as he contemplated his next move. “Isaiah, take Layla to the princess suite and call Sheriff Moneta.” Just as I’d suspected, he had the police in his pocket.

  Layla’s eyes widened. “Dad, what’s going on? I have a right to know.”

  Hell, I wanted to know what happened. Michael Corsino wasn’t on my list, so it definitely wasn’t anyone associated with me or the Circle of Justice. Anthony took a deep breath and faced her, the look of anger completely gone.

  “I’ll tell you everything once I know something, cara mia. Go with Isaiah, please.”

  Layla sighed and glanced at me once more before following Isaiah out the door. Marco shut the door behind them and pulled out his phone. “I’m calling the others. We need a meeting.”

  He walked over to the edge of the room while Anthony paced the floor, looking tense. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hissed, his voice low.

  “If your brother disappeared, it’s obvious whoever has him hasn’t killed him yet.”

  Anthony froze mid-step and flashed his rage-filled gaze my way. “They better hope they don’t.”

  Marco finished up with his calls, and joined us. “Going after Michael is an act of war. I don’t know of anyone who has the man power to take our brother down,” he said to Anthony.

  Anthony threw his arms angrily up in the air. “Any of the other families could. We have enemies everywhere. They cross the line by going after my daughter.”

  “You think they were after he
r?” I asked. He was damn right he had enemies, but it was a dick move to go after his daughter. That was the way it was in their world, though. They went after what would hurt their enemies the most. Whereas I would go right after the main target.

  Anthony and Marco glanced at each other, and Anthony nodded at me, sighing heavily as he sat down across from me. “Layla doesn’t know this, but over the past two years, she’s had three bodyguards turn up dead. She thinks I fired them, and I’ve let her believe it so she wouldn’t worry. That’s why I had my own brother keep watch over her the past six months. I didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to go after my own kin.”

  Marco huffed. “But if the culprit wanted to go after Layla, wouldn’t they have just snatched her up in the parking lot?”

  “Not if they like torturing you,” I commented, meeting both of their gazes. “I would never target a man’s daughter, but if that’s what this person’s doing, they know it’s eating you up inside. Taking one of your brothers makes you look weak.”

  Anthony’s jaw clenched. “You’re right. I can’t have that.” Eyes blazing like fire, he focused on me. “That’s why I need you.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  He leaned forward in his chair. “I need your name. If the other families know that I have a Collman working for me, it’ll strike fear in their hearts. Maybe it’ll lead us to my brother. My father always told me that nobody wanted a Collman as an enemy. I’ll pay you whatever you want.”

  I stood and looked down at him. “I don’t work for anyone, Mr. Corsino. I do what I want, when I want it, and on my own time. If you need help, I’ll help you, but I don’t work for you. Let’s get that straight.” It was a risky move, but I didn’t want him to think he could order me around. The Collman family was one of the most feared in the city at one time, and I had to live up to that name.

  Anthony and Marco both stood, and Anthony nodded. “Help me find who has my brother. There’s an annual gala coming up in a few days with all the families in New York. If my brother hasn’t shown up, it’ll be a good time to feel around for answers. Someone there will know something.”

  “What is the gala for?” I inquired.

  It was as if something sparked in Anthony’s mind. His eyes widened, and a look of utter hatred passed across his face. “I think I have it.”

  “What are you talking about, brother?” Marco asked.

  Anthony walked over to the windows and peered down toward the streets. “The gala. That’s where it’ll happen. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this first.”

  Clearly confused by the expression on his face, Marco looked at me and then back to his brother. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Anthony stared at my reflection in the glass. “I know what’s going on.” He turned around and faced us. “The gala is designed to mingle the mafia families together. Basically, it was a failed attempt from our ancestors to bring peace. Now, it’s a night where we all congregate to see who has the upper hand in the city.”

  Marco snorted, and agreed with a nod. “It’s a night for everyone to show how big their dick is. I fucking hate it.”

  The gala was something new to me. Sounded like it’d be a clusterfuck, putting all the mafia families in one space. Anthony continued speaking to me. “It’s a tradition that’s been going on for years. I know you haven’t been here for them, but it’s a time for us to introduce the next generation to each other…and make certain matches within the families.”

  After hearing that, it hit me like a ton of bricks. “You’re offering Layla up to your rivals’ sons?” The thought disgusted me. How could a father do that to his daughter?

  Marco blew out a frustrated breath. “We’re not offering Layla up to anyone. That’s the problem. We love and respect her more than that. Besides, she can’t stand any of those limp-dicked cocksuckers.” At least they had some sort of a conscience. He joined Anthony by the windows, but Anthony kept his focus on the city below. “This is what happened to the Rossi family thirty years ago. One of their men was taken by the Cartwrights in exchange for one of their daughters. That could be the case now.”

  “What was the outcome?” I asked.

  Anthony released a heavy sigh. “The Cartwrights got what they wanted. Carlo Rossi was returned to his family, and Penelope Rossi was given to the Cartwrights. She married into the family and has a son and daughter. They’ll all be at the gala.”

  “Let me guess,” I began, already knowing the answer, “the Cartwrights would’ve killed Carlo if the Rossis didn’t give them Penelope?”

  Both men stared straight at me, the anger clear in their eyes. It looked like I needed to do more research, especially on the Cartwrights. The Corsinos were dirty bastards, but I was starting to think the other families were just as bad. Ransoming people to get a woman—not to mention using a woman as transaction material—was fucked up. Then again, the mafia were a different breed of people.

  “Do you think the Cartwrights are behind this?” I inquired.

  Anthony growled, and fisted a hand against the window. “It could be anyone. My daughter’s been the most sought-after prize in our midst ever since she became of age. I’ve kept her away from the horrors of my world, but she’s getting closer every single day. I’m probably to the point now where I need to tell her the truth about everything. All I know is that whoever’s responsible for this is going to pay for it, even if I have to rip out their throats myself.” He glanced at me over his shoulder. “I need your help, son. If anything, for my daughter’s sake.”

  If Layla was as innocent as he claimed, I couldn’t leave her to the wolves. Her father was the worst one of all. “All right, I’m in. What do I need to do?”

  Chapter Three

  Layla

  The fear and uncertainty churning in my gut were unpleasant, but familiar. That was how it was in my family. Michael wasn’t the first in my father’s clan to disappear out of nowhere, but he was the first in our inner circle, the first with blood ties. Everyone else had been people my father had working for him. Michael was in charge of looking after me, just like the other two men before him. My father said he’d fired those two bodyguards, but my instincts told me otherwise.

  I needed answers. I had a feeling Michael’s disappearance had something to do with me.

  I tossed my purse onto the kitchen table while Isaiah shut the door behind us. The princess suite was my home in the city. I’d loved it for years, but now I wanted to be anywhere but here. My eyes burned. I didn’t want to imagine my uncle suffering because of me, but that was the reality of my world. The more I was around my father, the clearer I was able to see things. When I was in college, I pretended I was just a normal girl, going to class and hanging out with my friends. I refused to see life any other way. After graduation, my father tightened his grasp on me. I couldn’t go anywhere without a bodyguard. It was getting harder to pretend that nothing was wrong.

  Isaiah paced by the door, his face a stony mask. My father had originally employed him to be my bodyguard, but I thought he’d draw too much attention. The man was a giant. It was hard enough explaining to my friends why I had a man following me everywhere I went. They already suspected that my family was part of the mafia. I’d laugh it off, pretending they were letting their imaginations run wild.

  “Should I be worried about something?” I asked.

  Isaiah continued to pace. “No. We’re going to find your uncle.”

  His phone rang, and he walked out the door, but I could hear his voice just on the other side. I tried to hear what he said, but everything was muffled. Whatever it was, it sounded urgent. The princess suite was elegant and refined, with its gold-toned walls and expensive leather furniture, but it was starting to feel like a prison.

  I walked into the kitchen and pulled out the bottle of Riesling I had opened from the night before. A normal wine glass wasn’t going to suffice, so I grabbed a drinking glass from the cabinet and filled it to the brim. Relaxing wasn
’t an option, so I paced the living room floor as my mind ran a thousand miles a minute. I looked out the window at the city lights, but nothing brought me peace.

  The first sip of wine went down smooth, followed by a few more. Before I knew it, the glass was almost empty. The door to my suite opened, and I thought it’d be Isaiah, but it turned out to be my brother, wearing an untucked blue button-down shirt, his hair messy and lipstick smears on his neck. It was obvious what he’d been doing when he got the call. There were so many women who raced to be in his bed every night, no telling who it was this time.

  “Dominic,” I gasped, hurrying over to him. He was thirty years old, two years older than me, and an exact replica of our father at that age. He had the dark brown Corsino hair and their signature gray eyes. I, on the other hand, took after my mother’s side, which was known for their blonde hair and green eyes.

  Dominic glanced down at my glass, and lifted his brows. “You okay?”

  Growing up, Dominic and I were inseparable. He was my best friend for the majority of our lives, until I left to go to college. Our father wanted him to learn the business so that he could take over one day. Ever so slowly, I could see the corruption seeping into his mind.

  Setting my glass on the kitchen table, I could feel the room starting to spin. “I’m fine. Have you heard anything about Uncle Michael?”

  He quickly tucked in his shirt. “No. Marco called and told me what all has been discussed so far. They have Sheriff Moneta looking into everything.” Taking my elbow, he guided me over to one of the bar stools. “I was worried about you. Tell me what happened.”

  I went through the spiel, and told him everything just as our father burst through the door, looking ready to kill. I cringed. I hated that expression; It was almost as if he wasn’t the same person.