The stairs are surprisingly quiet. They have to be, if service workers are supposed to be seen and not heard, I would guess.
I climb past several panels that look like doorways, counting them as I go. When I reach the third, I put my ear to it before carefully sliding it open. Sure enough, I find myself in what looks like a utility room, and the door at the far end of the little space is closed, but I can hear the sounds of walking footsteps and voices outside it.
I move carefully up to it, swapping my knife for my gun, and I put my ear close to the door.
“I don’t care if the second floor looks clear, sweep it again, he didn’t vanish into thin goddamn air,” a scruffy voice says. I don’t hear a response, so I gather that he’s on a cellphone. “No, you’ll get him to the doctor after we have this God damned ordeal dealt with. I want this fucker’s head on a plate before Don Abruzzi gets wind of anything that goes on here, understand? Because if word gets out, he’ll have my head after I get yours.” I hear the beep of the call ending.
I take that as my cue, and I simply push the door open, gun raised at the man now about three feet from me.
He’s a middle-aged man with a tired face and graying hair. Despite his age, the muscles under the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt tell me this guy can pull his weight. A capo, no doubt. These Cleaners were just shaping up to be a real crime family.
“Son of a bitch,” he mutters, letting his phone fall to the ground as he raises his hands.
“Let’s make this easy,” I say in a low tone in Italian.
“You went past ‘easy’ when you drove a fuckin’ sedan into our front yard, you cock-sucker,” he says in a grizzled voice, speaking in the same language. He has a tired look in his eyes, but they’re still the eyes of a killer. “I knew Lorenzo was in over his head going after the De Laurentis girl, but shit, kid, I gotta hand it to you, you know how to make waves.”
I frown at him and set my jaw. “And what do you think you know about Serena?”
He gives a scoffing laugh. “Look at me, you think I’m one of these bloodthirsty young fucks? I know who she is. She’s mafia royalty. I know who her dad was—he was the guy who used to run the Costas you work for. I know there was a power struggle, and her daddy got taken out by the guys who are your bosses now. And I heard she was next on the chopping block, until someone intervened.”
My eyes narrow. The old guy is looking at me meaningfully. As much as I’ve tried to bury the past, it can’t stay hidden forever. But it’s strange to hear it spoke out loud again after so long.
“And I’m willing to bet that someone was you,” he says. “You think you can bring down the whole Abruzzi family over some spoiled mafia princess? You’re sticking your neck out under a big sword, kid.”
“Enough,” I growl, raising my gun.
“Not so fast,” he says quickly, holding his hands up higher. “Lorenzo’s room is right down this hall. One gunshot, and they’ll know something’s up too close for comfort. That door’s locked and I’ve got the key. You really think you got time to make it down there and unlock the door before Lorenzo puts a bullet in your girl’s pretty head?”
“You look like an old-school kind of guy. Is it a duel you want?”
“Fuck that,” he half-laughs, “look at you, you look like Rambo just crawled fresh out of ‘Nam.” He stretches his arms out to the side. “Look, you got lucky, kid. Disarm me, and I’ll unlock that door and disappear. Even if Lorenzo kills your ass, I’m a dead man to Don Abruzzi.”
I don’t like it, but I don’t have time to bargain. I give a sharp nod and approach him with my gun trained on his head. He turns around and lets me remove the guns from his person, and he walks forward toward the door.
My eyes follow his hand to his coat pocket as he pulls out a cardkey and hands it to me. I take it, and he whirls around to face me as he steps backward. He gives Lorenzo’s door a final glance, then nods to me before walking backward to the stairs and moving down them, out of sight.
As I hold the key near the door, knife in my other hand, I take a breath and say a quick prayer in my head to whoever might be listening. The door lock clicks, and a little green light flashes. I drop the key and throw the door open.
“The fuck do you think you’re-” comes Lorenzo’s voice as he turns around, and the scene I walk in on freezes in place for half a second in time. At the far end of the room, Lorenzo stands with his shirt off, half-kneeling on the bed where I see Serena and Rafaela laying, eyes widening at the sight of me, Serena’s mouth falling open and tears coming to her eyes. On either side of the door I just burst through are two guards, each holding guns.
But I’ve burst in on enough meetings to be ready for that, and I move before they can gather themselves.
I go to the right first, one hand grabbing the wrist of the hand that holds his gun and pointing it down. The gun goes off just before I slash his throat with one quick motion and roll around his body, just in time for the man on the left to shoot. The guard’s body takes the shot for me, and I have enough time to flip the blade around and throw it at him. The blade sinks into his eye, and his hand squeezes as his body convulses, another shot ringing through the room before he falls to the ground.
I draw my spare knife and point it at Lorenzo, standing there covered in blood, chest breathing heavily, and all the fury I’ve ever known burning in my eyes at the sight of what he was about to do to my girl and to Rafaela.
“Get away from them, Lorenzo,” I snarl, “I’ve got the blood of half this compound on my hands, and I’m not leaving without yours.”
Lorenzo moves fast, diving for the dresser and seizing a long hunting knife mounted on it, and he turns to face me. His eyes are wild, and there’s a smile on his face.
“I was wondering if you’d make it,” he says, readying himself in a stance. “I love a good fight before I take a woman.”
I have no more patience for words, and I lunge forward at him. He moves faster than I thought he could, and he dodges me and thrusts up toward my gut. I roll with the attack, and it only grazes my side. I bring my fist around and feel it connect with his jaw in payback, and he staggers back.
Lorenzo spits blood, and he charges me again. This time, I’m ready for him. I feign like I’m going to move in to tackle him, and when he brings his knife in to catch me from above, I move to the side and bring my knee up into his gut.