Fatal

Standing up, Nico brushed down his clothes, running his hands under the icy showers to wash away the blood. He turned to smile at his men, though his tone was ominous and taunting, something Johnstone didn’t fail to miss. ‘You heard him. Clear this mess up. Capito? Understand? We’d hate to upset the officer, wouldn’t we?’

‘Good, make sure you do by the time I get back.’

Watching Officer Johnstone leave, Nico thought, as he seemed to every moment of every minute of every day, that he’d been behind bars far too long. Eight years too long after one of his men had turned informer. A hazard of his trade and a reason to rule his empire like Satan himself.

Johnny Milano had worked for him for over twenty years, but he’d squealed to the FBI like a sow on heat. And despite the fact he’d given Johnny his first break – had let him in to the heart of the Russo family and even paid for the cocksucker’s wedding to some two-dollar stripper from Long Island – Johnny Milano had repaid him by telling the feds everything he knew about the drug deals, the money laundering, the illegal shipping, the prostitution, the smuggling, the whole goddamn lot.

But Nico had had a tip-off from someone on his payroll in the bureau and consequently managed to cover most of his tracks. The FBI couldn’t find anything that was going to stand up in court relating to any illegal activity, but ironically what they did find was in connection to tax evasion linked to some of the family’s legal businesses.

The IRS had thrown the book at him and he’d been given fifteen years, and it looked like he was going to have to serve all fifteen. The parole board didn’t seem interested in letting the head of the Russo family back out on the streets.

Though he’d sure as hell made Johnny Milano pay. Johnny had thought the FBI witness protection would keep him safe, but there was no such thing as protection for rats. No hiding place. His men had searched and they’d found the whole of the Milano family. The mother, the grandmother, the children, even the pet rabbits, along with the two-dollar stripper from Long Island. No one escaped revenge. Revenge had been Johnny Milano’s executioner and it would be anyone else’s who dared to cross him.

‘Nico.’

Breaking his thoughts, Nico looked up to see Chris D’Amato, his cellmate – and a good friend – walk into the shower room. ‘It’s for you, Nico.’

He held out a mobile phone.

‘Who is it?’

‘She says her name’s Alice Rose.’

Nico Russo whirled the pool of blood – yet to be cleaned up – with the tip of his boot. He leant against the tiled wall, feeling the damp go through his prison shirt. Of all the calls he’d imagined he’d have, this certainly wasn’t one.

His voice was low, calm. Warm. ‘Hello, Alice Rose, I’ve heard a lot about you.’

‘Have you?’

‘Yes, from Cabhan. Though I haven’t seen him in a while.’

On the other end of the phone, Alice was eager. ‘So do you work with him?’

Kicking Don Lombardi’s severed tongue to the side and signalling to Chris to pick it up, Nico smiled. ‘You could say that. Anyway, to what do I owe this pleasure?’

Feeling happier, Alice’s tone was light. ‘I don’t know if Dad told you, but it’s his birthday next week.’

‘No, Alice, he didn’t tell me.’

‘Well, I was hoping to have a surprise party for him, do something nice, invite all his friends and work colleagues. Is that silly?’

‘Why would it be? I don’t think you ever get too old for a birthday party, do you? Well, I know I don’t, I’d want a party even when I’m too old to blow out the candles.’

Delighted that Nico felt the same, Alice giggled. ‘Obviously, he doesn’t know I’m phoning you.’

‘Obviously.’

‘And I know this is a lot to ask, but I was wondering, hoping, you could come. I’m going to get as many people together as I can, and we’ll have the party in the school hall. It’s only small, but I’m going to make some decorations, so it’ll look nice. I just want to make him happy. Will you come?’

As Alice held her breath in anticipation, Nico looked up at the clear blue sky through the thick prison bars. ‘Alice, I’d love to, really I would, but the problem is, I’m a bit caught up here and won’t be able to make it. I’m sorry.’

Disappointed, Alice said, ‘And there’s really no way?’

‘I’m sorry, honey, no way at all, but I tell you what, I could get my brothers to come. Salvatore and Bobby. They’d like that. They work with your dad, too.’

‘Do they?’

Using the tip of the bloodied scissors to pick out a crumb in his teeth, Nico nodded. ‘Yeah. Your dad’s like family to us. He’s got a special place in all our hearts … You know, I’m so pleased you called me, Alice, this has really made my day. How did you get my number, by the way?’

There was a pause before Alice sheepishly admitted, ‘Last time Dad came to see me, I took his phone so I could write down all the contacts. Is that really bad of me?’

Nico winked at Chris D’Amato as he watched him drag Don Lombardi up onto his feet.

‘No, Alice, I wouldn’t call that bad. Believe me, I’ve done a lot worse myself.’

‘You have?’

Nico chuckled, his tone teasing. ‘Oh yes, Alice, things so bad I’d be in a lot of trouble if I told you.’

Alice giggled again, enjoying the conversation.

Nico continued. ‘That’s better, it’s good to laugh at ourselves, and besides, I’d say it was clever what you did. If you hadn’t, well, you and I wouldn’t be speaking now, would we? And I’ve got an idea you might like. Why don’t you leave it to me to invite the people your dad would want at his party? You don’t want to have people there he doesn’t get on with, do you?’

‘No, of course not. Would you really do that?’

‘Absolutely, I’d do anything for Cabhan. But you need to tell me where you are so I can tell my brothers and make all the arrangements.’

‘Thank you, Nico, thank you so much! It’s going to be brilliant. And you won’t tell Dad anything about it, will you?’

‘You have my word. Lo prometto. I promise. We wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise, would we? We want to give him a birthday he’ll never forget.’

6 (#ulink_200891e2-34a1-5a5e-a139-0f890769b3e3)

Franny Doyle yawned as she made her way along the glass-panelled corridor of the Sheraton Hotel located in downtown Denver, Colorado. She was hot and tired after travelling for the past two days. It hadn’t helped that her flight had been a particularly turbulent one, or that opposite her – in the usually staid business class – a very large, noisy Greek family had insisted on breaking into the occasional champagne-fuelled song. Then, to make matters worse, the cab driver who’d picked her up from the airport had, for some inexplicable reason, shouted at every passing car before refusing to make his way around the roadworks, causing her to get out and walk the whole of the mile-long pedestrian strip in the searing Denver heat. Still, at least she was here, and ultimately that was all that mattered.

As she walked along the thick brown swirl carpet, grateful for the air conditioning that blasted out near sub-zero temperatures, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket, letting her know she had a voicemail.

She listened as she waited for the lift to make its way down from the twenty-second floor. It was Alfie … again:

Pick up, for God’s sake! I don’t know how many bleedin’ messages I’ve left, but you can’t keep ignoring me. For fuck’s sake, Franny, why are you doing this to me, darlin’? Just call me and let’s sort this out. I get that you could be mad at me. Maybe I didn’t give you as much attention as I should’ve done, or maybe you think I don’t tell you that I love you enough. But I do love ya. From the minute I knew ya, I started falling for ya. But Jesus, Fran, whatever it is I’ve done, don’t take it out on our future. Vaughn’s future. You want me to come and find you, Franny? Is that what you want, darlin’? To show you I care? Cos I do, but I just haven’t got time for these fucking games at the moment!… Franny!

Stepping into the lift, Franny clicked off the phone, smiling sadly to herself as she fought hard not to feel the devastation and guilt of what she was doing to him, because there was no getting away from it, she loved Alfie with all her heart, he was her soul mate. But the fact was, she just couldn’t afford to let her feelings for him change what she had to do, no matter how hard it was.

She knew he was hurting as well. The variety of messages from him since she’d texted him about the change of plan had ranged from calm to bewilderment then to anger before returning to calm in a merry-go-round of mystified emotions.

She didn’t blame him. Not one little bit. How could she? She’d taken his and Vaughn’s money, and the only explanation he’d had was a short, swift text. He deserved better, but she couldn’t explain, mainly because he wouldn’t understand. Yes, he’d appreciate the principle of it – caring and looking out for family – but she knew that Alfie saw this money as his one chance, his last chance at making it back on top, so there was no way, if he’d had his choice, he’d let her spend it on getting Cabhan out of trouble.

And of course, Alice Rose. Sweet Alice Rose whom Cabhan had only learnt of in the last couple of years.