Chapter 5 A Dead Man

(Don Mateusz's POV)

I gripped the wheel with one hand, floored the Aston Martin, and tore through the streets of Palermo toward a safe house on the outskirts.

Fifteen minutes ago, I'd received an emergency call from one of my men. A gunfight erupted at Tuscany Bistro.

I strode into the underground garage, and at once every member of the crew fell silent, straightened up, and bowed their heads in respect; no one dared meet my eyes.

My mother was dead. My father had been murdered the previous month. My sick brother Santino lay in intensive care. With no one else left, I had been forced to inherit the Don's ring and take command of the Gambino Family.

I had no interest in the underworld trade, but before he died, my father clutched my hand tightly, shoved a blood-stained ring into my palm, and begged me to protect the brothers of the Family.

Now I held absolute power in Sicily. Every order I gave was final.

I walked into the makeshift medical room. In the center, on the operating table, Sterling lay unconscious, his abdomen wrapped in bloody bandages. Beside him, on a steel cot, lay Marco's body, my brother, the one I'd grown up with.

A bullet had pierced his head. He had no breath left.

I walked beside Marco's body, hands resting on the edge of the metal cot, teeth clenched, suppressing the wave of grief and rage that surged through me.

I turned to Rocco, who stood by, his right arm scraped and bleeding, and said in a cold, hard tone, "Tell me exactly what happened."

Rocco lowered his head. "We were handling a covert casino-chip exchange in the back room. Gunmen came through the rear exit and opened fire. Marco died instantly. Sterling took a bullet protecting me. Mateusz, I think DIA agents set us up."

I dismissed the idea with a snort. "No. DIA agents may be fools, but they follow orders. If they had exact intelligence, they would have raided through the front, arrested everyone, and documented the evidence. A back-alley ambush isn't how an official agency operates."

I pulled out my encrypted phone and dialed the head of the Bonanno Family.

On the other end, a chaotic mix of shouting and rage erupted. "Don! What the hell is going on? Two of my men are dead, and one more is critically injured, this is your doing, isn't it?"

"If it had been my operation, your entire crew would already be dead," I said coldly. "I lost one man, and another is critical. Someone wants a war between our families. I'll find out who."

I hung up immediately and turned to Rocco. "The Bonanno Family lost men too. It wasn't a black-market hit. There's a third party involved."

I walked to Sterling's operating table and peeled back a portion of the bandages on his abdomen. The stitching was crude, even using transparent fishing line, but the knotting was expertly precise, avoiding all major blood vessels.

I frowned. "You stitched him? How is it so sloppy?"

Rocco quickly explained, "No, Boss. At the time of the shooting, a woman walked in to buy coffee. She claimed to be an emergency doctor. When Sterling bled out, I had no choice but to point a gun at her head and force her to stitch up the wound in the kitchen. Afterward, to keep it quiet, I brought her here too. She's now locked in the basement."

My movements froze instantly.

I looked at Rocco, raised an eyebrow. "You were ambushed and severely wounded, and suddenly a trauma doctor shows up to buy coffee?"

Rocco froze, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Boss, you're saying... she was sent on purpose?"

"Boss, should I have her eliminated? What if she's a spy?" Rocco made a motion to his neck.

"No," I said softly, dangerously.

"Call me Mateusz, not Boss." I paused. I had never wanted to lead the Family, and I had no taste for titles. More important, I did not want anyone knowing who I truly was.

"Yes, Boss... Mateusz," Rocco stammered.

I gave a quiet smile. "Lead the way. I want to personally interrogate her."

Four years ago, during a business meeting with the Lucchese Family, I'd seen that woman fight back against her captors. I had assumed she was dead. No one walked away from the Luccheses unscathed.

All I wanted to know was who had orchestrated this attack.

But when I saw her face, I froze.

For the first time in four years, my heart skipped a beat.