Lawless: Mob Boss Book Three (8 page)

T
he flat Nico
had rented was hidden in a tiny, cobblestone alley in Trastavere behind a facade of mustard yellow stucco. Nico retrieved the key from the owner of the ground floor unit, and after a few words with her in Italian, they trudged up a flight of narrow stairs to the one bedroom apartment.

As soon as Nico opened the door, Angel wished they’d come under different circumstances. The place was small but gorgeous, with expansive windows rising to a tall, polished wood ceiling. There was an efficient kitchen that opened onto a living room with a fireplace. The bedroom was cozy, and the bathroom was dominated by an enormous claw-foot tub with old brass fittings. It was a place that begged for lazy Sunday mornings with espresso and panettone, for cozy nights and long conversations by the fire with a bottle of wine.

“It’s nice,” Nico said after they walked through the rooms.

“It’s perfect,” she said.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “You’re awfully easy to please.”

“I have you,” she said. “That’s all I need.”

She pushed away the dread that dropped over her as she said it. It felt a little like tempting the fates, and she reminded herself not to take anything for granted. Not to assume either of them would make it out of this alive. They had now. It would have to be enough.

“Let’s get some breakfast and do a little recon,” Nico said.

She fluttered her eyelashes dramatically. “Why, you sweet talker, you.”

He laughed and swatted her on the ass as she turned away.

They stopped at a little cafe and staked claim to a table on the street. Angel spent the next hour people watching and dunking her buttery cornetto into the best cappuccino she’d ever tasted while Nico studied a map of the city. Finally, he lowered the map.

And damn, he was beautiful.

In sunglasses, tailored slacks, and a perfectly fitted white button down open at the neck, he looked as at home in Rome as any of the stylish men passing by on the street. She thought about his mouth on her on the plane, the reflection in the mirror of his body joining hers as he fucked her, and was wet for him all over again.

A slow smile spread to his lips. “You look like that cat that ate the canary,” he said.

She took a sip of her cappuccino. “Something like that.”

“I want to know more about that look in your eyes later,” he said. “But first, we need to rent a car.”

They rented a small red convertible and headed out of Rome. The air was warm and dry as they continued into the verdant, leafy hills of Lazio, the brine of the sea mixing with the smell of oranges and the musky scent of bay trees. It was hard not to be in the moment, and little by little, Angel’s apprehension faded into the background. The future was still uncertain, but wasn’t it always? All anyone has is now.

After about an hour, Nico pulled off the main road and continued up a series of smaller, windy streets. Finally, he turned off the road and brought the car to a stop near some bushes by the side of the road.

“We’ll walk from here,” he said.

They got out of the car, and Angel followed him down the road and to the right. They came up short just before the start of an iron fence.

“This is McDermott’s villa,” Nico said. “We need to get a handle on the security before we decide how to approach him.”

“How are we going to do that out here?” she asked, looking up at the pointed spires of the fence.

“Very carefully,” he said. “We need to make sure we’re not spotted, so keep an eye out for cameras.”

They started by walking along the side of the property, following the fence through orange and olive trees, being careful to stay far enough away that the cameras — and there were cameras she saw now, spaced about fifty feet apart — wouldn’t pick them up.

The back of the property abutted a rocky cliff. That was a no go as far as access.

They backtracked to the front of the property and crossed the street, then walked the other side of the fence, just to be sure it was set up the same way. It was, and they headed back to the front gate.

“What now?” she asked.

“Let’s hang around,” he said. “See if anyone comes in through the gate so we can determine the entrance protocol. It’s a long shot, but we’re here; we might as well cover our bases before resorting to Plan B.”

“What’s Plan B?”

“Find him at the local bar when he goes for his nightly pint according to the schedule Luca gave us,” Nico said.

“Not very private,” Angel said.

“Exactly.”

They used the trees at the side of the road to hide their position. It was another hour before they heard the sound of gravel crunching under tires in the distance. Angel nudged Nico, sitting next to her on the ground.

“Someone’s coming.”

They got up and watched as a sleek, black sports car pulled up to the gate. A hand emerged from the driver’s said window to push a button on the control panel. A few seconds later a voice came over the intercom and spoke in Italian. The driver answered — also in Italian — and an electronic buzz was followed by the hum of the gates swinging open.

Angel looked at Nico. “Want to make a run for it after the car?”

He shook his head. “The driver said he had a message from Sean. This doesn’t feel good to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Nico said. “My gut tells me it’s a bad idea to get caught behind those gates.”

“You think it’s a trap?” Angel asked. “That Raneiro could be counting on us coming here?”

“I don’t know. I’d just feel better if we stayed out in the open where we can get away if we need to. This place is pretty locked down. We have no idea who’s inside, and once we’re in, getting out might be just as difficult.”

“So we catch McDermott at the bar then,” Angel said.

“And hope he’s alone,” Nico added.

They headed into town, checked out the pub where Desmond McDermott was reported to take his pint, and spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the village. It was intimate and quaint, nestled in the hills outside Rome. They traversed the cobblestone streets and looked in the shops, then took a break for an early dinner at a cozy trattoria. By the time the sun went down, Angel had almost forgotten why they were there. It had been a pleasant few hours with Nico, one of the rare moments when they were allowed to be simply a man and woman in love. She wondered if they would get the chance to have more moments like it, if there would ever come a time when they wouldn’t be fighting for their lives or the lives of someone they loved.

Just before nine, they ordered a couple of pints and took a seat in a booth at the rear of the pub. Angel sat with her back to the door. Nico sat across from her where he could see everyone who came and went. Beyond their table, a narrow hall exited onto an alley that would give them access to the main road if they needed to make a quick getaway. The information Luca gave them indicated that McDermott usually went for his pint alone, but they wouldn’t take it for granted; they would watch to make sure he was unaccompanied before approaching him. Still, an alternate exit was a good back up plan in case anything went wrong.

Angel’s eyelids were feeling heavy, jet lag finally catching up with her, when the bell on the door to the pub jingled. Nico’s eyes lit with recognition.

“It it him?” Angel asked, not wanting to draw attention to herself by turning around.

Nico nodded.

“Is he alone?”

“So far,” Nico said. “Let’s give it a minute.”

Nico nursed his beer, his expression bored. Angel wasn’t fooled. She’d come to recognize the attentive light in his eye. It told her that nothing was beyond his notice. Every movement, every person, every detail, was being recorded in his mind, filed away for future use. It made her feel safe, but also sad. He deserved more than to be watchful all the time, than to be worried for his life and the lives of the people around him. But would he be happy in another kind of life?

She still didn’t know the answer.

“I don’t suppose I can talk you into staying here while I talk to him?” Nico finally asked her.

She shook her head. “In for a penny, in for a pound.”

He nodded. “Stay close. And if there’s trouble, follow my lead.”

D
esmond McDermott looked
like he was alone, but Nico knew that was no guarantee. Not for the first time, he wished he had a weapon. He could have secured one on the black market in Rome, but they needed to stay under Raneiro’s radar, and since they didn’t know how long they’d be here, it hadn’t seemed like a worthwhile risk. If Nico had his way, they’d get a lead on Sean Murdock from McDermott and be out of Rome by morning. The more distance between them and Raneiro the better.

He set his nearly empty pint on the bar and slid onto the stool next to Desmond McDermott. Angel sat on the other side of him, and he instinctively angled his body to cover hers as much as possible. Desmond McDermott looked harmless enough — blond hair, ruddy complexion, average height with a belly going soft — but Nico wouldn’t bet Angel’s safety on it.

“Buona sera,” Nico said, when Desmond’s gaze cut his way.

Desmond nodded. “Buona sera.”

Nico waved at the bartender for a refill, watching as he filled another glass and set it down on the bar. “Grazie.”

He took a drink of the beer, biding his time. When the bartender moved toward the other end of the bar, Nico spoke without looking at the man next to him.

“How is Sean these days?”

He saw McDermott turn to look at him in his peripheral vision. “Who are you?”

“Not important,” Nico said.

“The hell you say,” McDermott said his Irish brogue getting thicker with his agitation.

“Word is you and Murdock have had a falling out,” Nico said. “And I think you and I might be on the same side.”

The statement was risky, based purely on speculation drawn from all that he’d read about McDermott and Murdock. Luca had been right; according to every available source, they had been like brothers. There were very few things that could destroy that kind of friendship, and while Nico couldn’t be sure, he was betting it had something to do with Sean’s rumored illegal activity.

McDermott moved to stand, and Nico clamped a hand firmly but quietly on his wrist. Angel shifted in her seat.

“Please, sit.” McDermott hesitated, and Nico took advantage of the opportunity to expand on his message. “I mean you no harm.”

McDermott settled back in his seat. “What do you want?”

“Sean has something in his possession,” Nico said. “Something dangerous. I simply want to insure its safekeeping.”

He almost held his breath on the bluff. He had no idea what was on the Darknet file. but if it was important to Raneiro — and it was — it had to be something that could be leveraged for greater power. It was the only thing worth more than making an example out of Nico to everyone in the Syndicate. And if it could be used to make Raneiro more powerful, it was dangerous, plain and simple. That Nico wanted to insure its safekeeping remained to be seen, but he’d say what he had to in order to secure Angel’s safety.

“I don’t know anything about that,” McDermott said a little too vehemently.

Nico took a drink of his beer. “I don’t believe that.”

“Sean and I are on the outs, like you said.”

“I’m not looking for anything specific.” Nico lowered his voice. “Just point me in the right direction.”

“And why would I do that?” McDermott said. “I don’t know you.”

Nico nodded, meeting his eyes. “Someone’s coming for what Murdock has. And if you don’t want it to fall into the wrong hands, I promise that you want it to be me.”

McDermott turned his attention back to his beer. “Sean has a lot of things people want,” he said softly.

“I’m not talking about software,” Nico said. “But I think you know that.”

McDermott gave him a sidelong glance, then stood. “You best be on your way before you get yourself into trouble,” he said, a little too loudly.

Nico was puzzled by his change in demeanor until he threw some cash down on the bar and spoke under his breath.

“Everything that matters to Sean is in Dublin.”

It was little more than a whisper, but Nico heard it loud and clear. He watched McDermott exit the bar and then glanced around before looking at Angel. “We need to get out of here.”

He was relieved when she didn’t say anything. She just stood and let him usher her out the back door to the alley. He felt his lack of weapon as they made their way through the darkened streets back to the car.

“What’s wrong?” Angel finally asked as he navigated out of the village.

“Nothing probably,” he said.

“Probably?”

“I got the feeling Sean was being watched,” he said. “I was worried we were made.”

“Do you think it was a trap by Raneiro?” Angel asked.

“I don’t know,” Nico said. “But I’ll feel better when we get out of here.”

They dropped the car off at the rental office and walked back to the flat, Angel leaning drowsily on his arm. By the time he put the key in the door, he was starting to believe he was just being paranoid. Raneiro had to know Nico would contact Desmond McDermott. It was the easiest way to gain private information about Sean Murdock. Raneiro could have had people waiting outside McDermott’s villa. He could have had someone tail McDermott and kill Nico and Angel as soon as they made contact. By giving Nico so specific a task, Raneiro had made him an easy target. No, if Raneiro Donati wanted him dead, he’d be dead by now.

He almost believed the internal argument until he opened the door and heard the click of the gun.

H
er eyes barely had
time to adjust to the light in the living room before she spotted the men. There were two of them; one tall and thin and standing by the windows, the other big and beefy, his neck the size of a tree trunk, sitting in the chair by the room’s writing desk.

Both of them had guns.

“Looks like our friends have had a nice day sightseeing,” Skinny said, his voice laced with a thick Italian accent.

Beefy sighed. “Young love. Ain’t it grand?”

“It sure is,” Skinny said. He waved the gun at them. “Come in and shut the door. And don’t get any big ideas about running. We’re not alone.”

Angel cut a glance at Nico, saw the internal battle being waged in his mind. A moment later he shut the door and stepped into the room, angling his body in front of hers in a familiar gesture of protection.

“Come in, come in,” Beefy said. “We’re just going to have a little chat.”

She stepped into the room, taking advantage of her position behind Nico to scan the room for something they might use as a weapon. It didn’t take long to realize it was futile unless she wanted to go slapstick and hit one of them over the head with a lamp. Somehow she didn’t think it would be very effective agains the cold-eyed, dead-voiced men in their room. Had this been Raneiro’s plan all along? Get them out of the US — away from Luca and anyone else who might help them — and kill them here on his home turf?

“What do you want?” Nico asked.

“Just wondering what brings you to our fair city,” Skinny said. “Somehow you don’t strike me as tourists.”

“Who sent you?” Nico asked.

Skinny stood, cocking the gun. “I think you’re confused. We ask the questions here.”

Nico nodded, taking another step in front of Angel. “I’m on an errand for Raneiro,” he said. “Just following his instructions.”

“Who the fuck is Raneiro?” Beefy looked confused.

Nico’s confidence seemed to falter, but he didn’t have time to say anything else before Beefy stalked toward him. Angel instinctively stepped forward as he raised his hand to strike Nico with the gun.

But Nico was way ahead of him. His hand shot up, blocking Beefy’s arm as one leg came up to kick the weapon from his hand. It clattered to the floor just as Skinny came up behind her. She’d been too busy watching Nico to see the gunman edge his way toward her, and she heard the click of the gun at her temple over the sound of the bones crunching in Beefy’s arms as Nico twisted it behind him. He pointed the gun pointed at the back of the man’s head.

“Unless you care less about this bitch than I care about my partner, I’d suggest you drop the gun,” Skinny said.

Nico looked up, caught sight of Angel with the gun to her head, and dropped the weapon.

Beefy straightened, messaging his arm, and took the gun back from Nico, then cracked it hard across Nico’s face. A cut opened up over his eye, and blood streamed down his cheek.

“Now that wasn’t polite,” Skinny said. “We were just having a conversation.”

“Didn’t look like that was the direction things were going,” Nico said, blotting at the gash on his forehead with the hem of his T-shirt.

“Please let me kill this son-of-a-bitch,” Beefy said, pointing the gun at Nico.

“Sean wouldn’t like it,” Skinny said.

Sean? The men were sent by Sean Murdock, software engineer extraordinaire?

“Fuck,” Beefy muttered.

“Just tell us why you were talking to McDermott,” Skinny said to Nico.

“Raneiro Donati wanted to offer him a job,” Nico said.

The last name triggered a flicker of recognition on the faces of Skinny and Beefy. Sean Murdock might own Dublin, but Rome belonged to Raneiro Donati.

She tried to keep her face impassive. Would Sean Murdock check their story? Would it cause trouble for Raneiro? Negate the deal they had with him? She didn't know, but it’s not like they had a choice. It was as good a story as any she could have come up with.

Skinny looked confused. “What kind of job?”

“Fuck if I know,” Nico said. “I’m just the errand boy. Donati heard McDermott was out of a job with Murdock. Asked me to feel him out. Maybe he’s looking for some brains to add to his brawn.”

“What did McDermott say?” Beefy asked.

“Said he was still under contract with Sean Murdock,” Nico answered.

“That’s it?” Beefy asked.

“That’s it,” Nico said.

They lowered their weapons. “Then I suggest you get out of town,” Beefy said. “Sean doesn’t like anyone sniffing around his people. Makes him nervous.”

Nico nodded. “On our way out first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Good. Tell Donati to find his own talent.”

Nico nodded as they shoved past him to the door.