When Heroes Fall (Anti-Heroes in Love 1)

The case on my phone creaked and then cracked sharply in my hand as I squeezed it in my fury. “No, Accardi, she’s been goddamn taken. She was snatched by the Irish. If they torture her, we’re all in hot shit. So, mobilize your goddamn soldati and get me some information.”

“This sounds like a personal problem, bimbo,” Accardi drawled, having the balls to call me the Italian equivalent of kiddo. “Deal with your own shit like a real man.”

And then, the stronzo hung up on me.

Within thirty minutes, every single one of the other Dons had done the same thing.

Frankie was in my office to report at the end of the last call with Maglione, and he watched dispassionately as I ripped a Picasso painting from the wall and broke the frame over my knee.

“Got a call back from Thumper Ricci,” he said while I stood there panting, trying to control the fury rolling through me like the waves off Napoli in the stormy winter months. “Said one of his men saw Elena over in the Bronx by Madison Ave Bridge this afternoon. Said she was watching two men talk at a gas station.”

“Cazzo, Francesco, I need information now,” I barked.

“I know, boss,” he said, completely unthreatened even though I felt one second from breaking someone’s neck.

Elena was taken.

After I’d fucking promised her I’d keep her safe, after she’d finally given in to this simmering, fucking sensational pull between us, and I’d already betrayed her.

Just like the other bastardi in her life.

“D, I know you’re angry enough to power a nuclear bomb right now, but you gotta get your shit tight. We need to use our brains here, not our brawn, and you are not doing that by trashing your office.”

I glared at him for a long moment, blowing hot air through my mouth, irritated with both of us because he was right.

I had to channel Elena’s interminable cool.

This wasn’t the time to rip things to shreds. I could do that when I found the motherfucker Irishmen holding her.

Without saying a word to Frankie, I grabbed my cell and made two calls.

Caelian Accardi and then Santo Belcante.

They both agreed to help with limited soldiers. We didn’t want to blow our long game before it had even begun. But I was grateful for their help, and it wasn’t something I’d ever forget.

This was why I’d met with them.

Because the Old Guard was stuck in the past, antiquated and close enough to death to merit a little push in the right direction.

The Dons, all of them, would die for this one day.

“We’ve got everyone looking,” Frankie told me. “Liliana and her crew even went out. We’ll find her. I got an algorithm searching through traffic cam and security footage right now.”

I raked a hand through my hair, almost pulling out the strands.

There was no way I could stay in this goddamn cage while Elena was out there waiting for me to get to her.

“It’s time.”

Frankie blinked at me. “No, I told you, I can disable the anklet, but I can’t get it back online. You’ve got one shot at leaving here, D, and you won’t be coming back.”

“I know.”

We stared at each other for a long minute where I imagined each tick of the clock.

“You doing this because of Cosima or because of the girl?” he finally asked.

I almost winced because not once had Cosima crossed my mind. “Elena, you fool.”

He nodded curtly. “Fine, come into the living room. If you want to fuck all our plans to high hell for a woman, God knows I’m not in a position to stop you.”

I got a call twenty minutes later.

“Boss,” Marco said. “I found Addie. He’s in rough shape, but he can talk a bit. Told me four of them jumped him when he was coming back from the john at lunch. He was in the Subway across the street from Elena’s office. Around five fifteen.”

“Get him to Dr. Crown,” I ordered, and then I hung up. “Is it ready?”

“As soon as we know where we’re going, I’ll remove the SIM card,” Frankie explained as his fingers flew over the keyboard. Beside him, a mesh wire cage the size of a microwave. “Put the tracking beacon in the Faraday Cage, and I’ll spoof the network so it sends the GPS location from the apartment as if it was never removed.”

“Va bene,” I said even though I didn’t know the finer intricacies of the plot. I trusted Frankie to know what the hell he was talking about. “I want our crew ready to go the second we get news.”

“They’re ready.”

“And the plane?”

“Fueled and ready at Newark. Bobbie Florentino is already onboard getting things prepped.”

“Good.”

“We’ll find her, D.”

I didn’t respond.

“Boss?” Chen said into the phone.

I was pacing, the anklet heavy around my left leg as I stalked around the apartment answering phone call after phone call that led nowhere.