1

ENZO

They looked exactly how I felt, and honest to God, I had no idea if that was a fucking compliment or an insult. I took in the faces of the men in front of me, and for a quick second, all I could see was pride, vengeance and bloody murder.

Anger sat on Nathaniel’s face like a second skin. Right now, he looked like he was this close to blowing up into pieces, and if the way he clenched and unclenched his jaw meant anything, I could easily guess that it meant he was losing his cool, and fast too.

Rowan on the other hand, his jaw was locked so tight I could almost hear his teeth grind. His sort of anger was the silent type, but deadly all the same. If there was anything that we all shared, it was the same fury, the same hunger, and the same need for blood and revenge.

For the first time in years, we had a name. After everything and all of our sleepless nights, we finally had a lead. They'd been slipping through our fingers faster than we would like to admit, but everything was going to change tonight.

I let that sink in as the file lay open on the table between us. To the ordinary eye, it was nothing short of sheets of paper, but to us, they were old papers, old sins, and old ghosts that refused to stay buried. The room smelled of smoke and vengeance.

Finally, we knew who had helped destroy us, finally we could start, and we'd be damned if we wasted another second.

“When?” Nathaniel asked, his deep baritone voice cutting through the silence.

One word, and that was all it took. I didn’t even look at him to know his patience was gone. Mine had snapped a long time ago.

“Now would be good,” Rowan said coolly, closing the file and sliding it back across the table. “Catch the old man unaware.”

Without a word, I picked up my cigar, rolled it between my fingers, and took a slow drag. The smoke burned my lungs just right. I exhaled, watching it curl into the air.

“Damn right,” I said. My eyes bounced around the room, searching for any signs of uncertainty, but I got none. “I want to see his face when he realizes what he’s done.”

In the blink of an eye, we stood and headed outside for the cars. They were about to split off into their separate vehicles, a force of habit or instinct maybe, but I stopped them short before they could get any farther.

“No,” I said, and both of them turned. “One car will do.”

I tossed the keys at Rowan. He caught them without a word and headed for the driver’s side.

I slid into the back seat, while Nathaniel took the passenger. The door shut, sealing us into silence thick enough to choke on. As the dark pulled out of the driveway and onto the dark tarred road, my fingers curled into fists without my permission.

As the night scenery whizzed by the windows, I couldn't help but think back a bit. The dreams had been coming more often lately, too often if I was being specific. Like my mind knew we were close, like the past was clawing its way forward, desperate not to be forgotten.

My mother’s screams hit me out of nowhere.

One minute I was in the car with Nathaniel and Rowan, and the next, I could see mother. I felt her arms around me, I felt her body shaking as men dragged her away. In the distance, I heard father’s shout, raw, and furious, followed by the sound that ended everything. It had been a single gunshot, clean, final, and the almost end of an era.

I blinked hard, and the car turned sharply, jolting me back into the present.

“Enzo.” Rowan glanced at me through the mirror. “You’re having them again, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Nathaniel shifted beside him. “We all are.”

“It’ll stop,” I said, as I swallowed the taste of blood and smoke and memory. “Once this is over.”

In my head, I added the truth. It had to. I would never be able to forgive myself if I let tonight go to waste.

The car slowed to a stop, cutting my thoughts short. Rowan killed the engine, and we all stumbled out.

We were standing outside a house that tried, and failed, to look modest. To anyone else, it would’ve passed as comfortable, but to men who owned cities, it was laughable.

I stepped forward first.

The gun felt natural in my hand as I pulled it free, cocking it with a sharp click that cut through the quiet street. I didn’t wait for them. I just marched straight to the door and knocked.

I felt their eyes on my back. They were right to be surprised. I didn’t knock. Where others did that, I preferred barging in with guns blazing. It was faster that way, but this night, I planned to savor the torture we were about to unleash.

The door opened after what seemed like forever, and there he was.

The old bastard. Robert fucking Callaway.

Recognition flashed across his face before fear swallowed it whole. He didn’t ask who we were, because we already knew. He stumbled back, pale, and shaking, and for a second,I almost felt for him.

Almost.

I raised the gun and aimed it between his eyes.

“You know why we’re here,” I said calmly. “I want names.”

Rowan appeared beside me in no time, grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the wall. “You alone?”

The man opened his mouth, but Nathaniel punched him before he could answer.

“Yes!” he gasped. “Yes…I’m alone!”

“Good,” I said. “Now lead us to your office.”

He limped ahead of us, every step slower than the last. Fear made men stupid like that.

“Where is it?” Nathaniel scanned the room. “Where is it?”

“What?” the old man stammered. “What….what are you talking about?”

“All the intel,” Nathaniel said coldly. “From years ago. We want them now.”

“Please…” Robert dropped to his knees. “please, you don’t understand…”

Neither of us paid attention to his whines as Rowan’s gaze shifted. I followed it, just to come face to face with a picture sitting on the desk.

It was a photo of a young girl. With her soft smile and innocent eyes, you could tell she looked entirely out of place here.

I picked it up, and my jaw tightened. Those fucking eyes. She had no idea, she had no clue that the man who tucked her into bed at night had blood on his hands, that he had helped rip families apart, that he had helped turn boys into ghosts.

“Does she know?” I asked quietly, and Robert went white.

“Please,” he sobbed. “Please, she has nothing to do with this….”

“We know,” I said. “She was never the target.”

I leaned down so he could see the gun clearly, there would be no misunderstanding.

“But you are.”

“Talk,” I continued. “Or your daughter gets the consequences of your silence.”

His body broke immediately.

“Okay,” he cried. “Okay! There were three of them. Just three that I knew about. I swear….I have no idea know who the leader was. I never did.”

I smiled, slow and cold.

“Names,” I said, pressing the gun closer. “Now.”