Fallen Empire (Dirty Empire)

“So, you knew why I wanted to see him.”

“Of course I knew, though I don’t yet know why. Just like I know that neither my father nor Mateo are interested in any sort of truce with the Easton organization.” She rounds the desk. “Camillo Perri and the more formidable of his sons have been conveniently dispatched. Quite clever on your part, by the way, to make it look like us. Peter Easton and his sons have vanished, and the rumor is that they will not be found. And my connections in the prison tell me people are lining up to slide a knife across Vlad Easton’s wrinkly old jugular. So why would my father negotiate to take over two notable empires when your family has made it so easy for them to claim the entire southwest territory in a sweeping show of force?”

“Less blood and turmoil this way? No conflict?”

“It seems you have not done your two seconds of research. If you had, you would know that my father loves blood and turmoil, and he feeds off conflict.” She stalls at the window, gazing out it. “The love for that is what killed my brother and weakened my mother’s heart until she, too, died.” There’s a forlorn quality to her voice, a lingering sadness.

And I think I’m beginning to see where this conversation is going. “Does your father know you’ve brought me here?”

Her steps are measured as she strolls toward me. “If my father knew I brought you here, you and your lovely woman would already be dead.” She stops in front of me and my nostrils fill with a pleasing mix of jasmine and suede as she reaches up. Her finger pokes the back of my skull.

I wince at the sting from her touch, jerking my head away.

When she pulls back, her index finger is coated with bright blood. She tsks, but doesn’t seem otherwise bothered by the sight. “Tell me, what terms were you going to offer my father for this truce?”

This is a gamble, but my gut tells me I’m reading the situation right. “We were going to tell him to take all of it.”

Her eyes flash. “All?”

“Our territory, the Perri territory, all of it. We don’t want any of it.”

Her lips hang parted for a moment and I fight the urge to laugh. She wasn’t expecting that. “You don’t want the family business at all?”

“No. We want to go strictly legitimate. Real estate, clubs, possibly a casino.”

Another flash of interest in her eyes betrays her. Her throat bobs with a hard swallow as she processes this bombshell. “But Vlad would never allow this.”

“No. And that’s why my father needs to die.”

A smile stretches across Ava’s face, slowly at first, until it blooms into a beautiful, wide grin that displays pristinely white teeth. “What a coincidence. So does my mine.”

20

Mercy

The stout man who led me to the bedroom where I’ve spent the last hour now directs me down the set of spiral stairs, to the main floor of the house. His gun is tucked in his holster and his steps are leisurely but I’m no fool. If I ran, I wouldn’t get far. I’ve seen the outside of this hillside mansion from the helicopter. There are men with guns crawling all around it. Besides, I promised Gabriel I would do exactly what they tell me and right now they’re telling me to walk.

I clear my throat to steady my voice. “Where is Gabriel?” They carried him away, still unconscious and bleeding from a wound to the back of his head. “Please tell me if he’s okay?” Seeing him like that—incapacitated and vulnerable—twisted my chest.

The man gestures toward an open set of doors with his palm raised.

At least they haven’t manhandled me like Bane did. They’ve been nothing but courteous. I’m guessing that’s because I haven’t given them reason to use force.

I gingerly step inside.

“Gabriel!” I let out a cry of relief and rush toward where he sits on the couch, his head tilted forward as a young man hovers behind him, his fingers working with skilled precision to stitch up the gash. I drop to my knees in front of him.

“Un momento por favor.” The doctor pulls through one last thread and then steps away to begin collecting bloody gauze and his tools. In moments, he’s gone.

Gabriel collects my face in his hands. “Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you?” His voice is husky, his eyes are wild with a mixture of panic and relief.

“I’m fine. How are you?”

His chest heaves with a sigh. “Five stitches and probably a concussion. All of which was totally unnecessary. As was the bullet to the engine of my car.” His sharp eyes cut to the other side of the room.

I follow the gaze and find Ava Navarro sitting in the chair behind the desk, her head cocked, her chin resting on a raised hand. I hadn’t noticed her when I stumbled in, too focused on getting to Gabriel.