Off the Record (With Me in Seattle Mafia 3)
“I love you.” My words are a whisper against his chest. The thought of anything happening to Rafe fills me with absolute terror. I don’t think I would survive losing him again.
“I love you, too.” He kisses my forehead. “Let’s get ready to go. Pop’s impatient.”
“I’m surprised that he wants to go on this mission,” I admit as I follow Rafe into the bathroom. “It’s not that he and Uncle Igor are out of shape. Quite the opposite, actually. But they don’t have to do this anymore.”
“It’s personal for them. I don’t know all of the details yet, but that’s the feeling I get. I suspect that when we’re all together, they’ll fill us in on everything they know. I don’t know about Igor, but I know Pop can take care of himself. He’s a big man, but he moves surprisingly fast, and he’s deadly with a weapon. From what I understand, he was formidable in his prime.”
“I’ve heard that Uncle Igor was the same.”
“That would make sense. They’re two of the most powerful men in this country.”
He gets in the shower as I brush out my hair and tie it up on top of my head so it doesn’t get wet when I step in.
“Now that Carmine and Nadia are married, and they were each next in line to be the boss of our respective families, what will happen if something happens to either Carlo or Uncle Igor?”
Rafe goes quiet for a moment.
“I think the two families are now merged. Considered one family. Nadia and Carmine would head both organizations.”
“Holy hell, that’s a lot of power.”
“Yes.”
I open the glass door and join him.
“Want me to wash your back again?” He grins and waggles his eyebrows.
“Good God, you’re insatiable. We literally just finished.”
“That was round one. I’ve had time to rest.”
“No. You said yourself. Your father is impatient.”
He pulls me to him, wet and slippery. “A few more minutes won’t matter.”
* * *
“They’re already here,” Shane says, pointing to the other private jet sitting on the jetway.
“Just arrived,” Rafe confirms. “We were only twenty minutes behind them.”
Shane’s phone rings, and he answers right away. “This is Shane. Yep. We see you. We’ll be right over.”
He hangs up and turns to the rest of us.
“Pop wants all of us to go over there for a briefing. That jet is bigger, and our only office in Dallas.”
“Makes sense,” Carmine says as we come to a stop. We leave all of our belongings on the plane—one of the perks of being on a private aircraft—and hurry over to the much larger jet where everyone else is waiting.
Carlo and Igor are seated at a table on one side. Curt’s in a chair with his laptop open on a small table. The six of us file in and find seats, all business, all ready for what’s about to come.
“This could be the most important day in our organization’s—or any organization’s—existence,” Carlo begins. “Igor and I have been doing some research on the Carlito family for several months on the down-low. We had to be careful and methodical because this family seems to have eyes and ears everywhere.”
“They are sneaky,” Igor adds. “And more intelligent than any of us gave them credit for, for many years. To our detriment. There’s still much we don’t know. We will not just burst in, guns blazing.”
“We want answers,” Carlo picks up. “We want to ask questions and get answers.”
“We’ll get them.”
We all turn in surprise at the sound of Mick Sergi’s voice. The New York boss steps onto the plane, his son Billy right behind him.
“What are you doing here?” Carmine demands, but Carlo holds up a hand.
“Thank you for coming,” Carlo says and then nods again when Maceo from Miami follows the Sergis onto the plane. “I’m sorry for your loss, Maceo.”
Maceo’s eyes are hard and cold.
“Thank you.”
“Please explain this,” Carmine says as he pulls his sidearm from its holster and lays it on a table.
“All of our personal beefs with each other, whether big or small, are set aside for today,” Igor says, watching the others. “Our only vendetta, our only focus, is destroying the Carlito family. But we have to get answers before we kill them.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Rafe asks. “We just march up to the front door and ring the bell?”
“Precisely,” Carlo says, smiling at his son. “My three sons and I will ring the bell. Say we’re there to talk, to ask questions. Be non-threatening.”
“In the meantime,” Igor says, “the rest of us will infiltrate the perimeter and take out their security.”
“It’s damn good security,” Curt says, still staring at his computer. “I have it up on the laptop, thanks to a late-night email from Ivie.”
“Wasn’t easy to find,” Ivie mutters with a mutinous frown. “Bastards.”
“I have a plan in place, and I’ll go over it with everyone,” Curt says and nods at Carlo.