Owned by the mafia boss

MICHAEL

Vinn was shot in the drive-by.Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

The bullet sliced into the gap of his vest and slammed into his shoulder. I hauled his ass to Alessio’s hospital, where the staff wouldn’t report the gunshot wound to authorities.

We killed six bikers. One of them was the president.

Their faces flashed over the evening news-two members and four prospects. We’d thrown Legion into chaos, which was not our intention, but I didn’t give a fuck about public safety or broken alliances. All I cared about was my wife.

Was she all right?

Was he hurting her?

I missed her with a hollow in my lungs, an all-encompassing ache that consumed me. My stomach didn’t unclench in the twenty-four hours she’d been gone, because my mind ran with violent images. I had no idea what he was doing, but if he hurt her I’d run Boston’s streets red with biker blood. My life’s mission would be to kill as many of them as possible. They wouldn’t be able to shit without watching out for me. I’d make my name known and take my vengeance.

They’d all suffer.

“Michael.”

I glanced up from the gleaming floor as a palm glided through my hair. Liana stood in flannel pajamas, her chestnut waves gathered in a high ponytail.

“Are you kidding me? You were supposed to stay with my kids.”

“Mom’s with them. They’re safe.” Liana slumped into the seat beside mine. “What happened?”

I sipped my lukewarm coffee, the only sustenance I’d allowed myself. “I can’t tell you anything.”

“Is he okay?”

I was in no shape to comfort anyone. “No clue.”

“What about Carmela?”

“I-I don’t know.”

She rubbed my back. “Maybe you should sleep.”

“I have to find her.”

“You’ve done everything you can.”

“Not until I’ve strung up every fucking biker in this city.”

“Are you Michael Costa?” An Asian woman in pink scrubs stepped forward. “I’m Doctor Yang. I was the surgeon assisting for Vinn’s procedure. He was wounded in the brachial plexus, which is which is the large nerve bundle that controls arm function.”

“Will he be able to use it?”

“We won’t know that for a few weeks. Most likely, he’ll need follow-up surgery. I can take you to see him now.”

She brought us where Vinn lay, wrapped in gauze. He stared at the ceiling in a drugged haze, his mouth half-open. His expression remained blank as Liana pulled up a chair.

“Vinny. I came as soon as I heard.”

She folded her palm over his hand. Vinn’s gaze flicked to their linked fingers. His lip twitched.

“‘M fine.”

Liana smoothed his hair, her voice thick with tears. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

A knock at the door dragged our attention to a nurse. “I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over. You’ll have to leave.”

I squeezed Vinn’s ankle. Liana bent over Vinn and kissed his cheek. His eyes flickered as she untangled from him. He brushed the spot where her lips touched him.

We left. Liana huddled in the waiting room, dragging a blanket from her big purse and draping it around her shoulders.

“Li, go home. Sleep.”

“I’m staying with Vinny.”

I almost said something, but a memory of Carmela’s disapproval cut into my impulse. Liana curled on a plastic seat as I headed toward the staircase, so tired I could’ve collapsed down the steps. I descended a flight of stairs before I realized someone called my name.

“Michael!” Alessio’s rugged features swam into recognition as he straightened his jacket. “I’ve been calling you.”

“I didn’t hear you.” A sickening amount of hope lodged in my throat. “Did you find her?”

“No, I haven’t. I’m sorry.”

Of course. He’d already failed her once.

Disgust churned in my stomach. “Then get out of my sight before I cave your head in.”

“I want to help.”

“Make a time machine, you miserable prick. Kill Crash when you were supposed to because there’s nothing you can do now.” I seized his collar, a corrosive hatred steaming the air between us. “I can’t stand you.”

“Stop blaming me for things out of my control.”

“You could’ve stopped him years ago!”

“He was her goddamned boyfriend,” he bellowed, shoving me. “She wanted to stay. She begged me. What was I supposed to do?”

“Save her from the psychopath.”

“Yeah, I should’ve used my magical crystal ball and predicted him turning into this, just like you should’ve seen what Serena was doing to your kids-”

My fist smashed into his face. He threw me down the stairs. I tackled him into the wall, and then we were tearing at each other. Pain spider-webbed across my jaw, and then he pushed me off, his eyes blazing.

“How does this help Carmela?”

My anger dissolved. I continued my descent, my misery like a jagged knife sawing my heart. It hurt so bad. “I fucking love her. He doesn’t. I can’t do this without her. I can’t pick up the pieces and move on.”

He squeezed my shoulder.

I shook off my grief. “Search for their clubhouse. Wherever he’s holed up, that’s where Carmela and Anthony are.”

“Everybody’s looking for Rage Machine members, but they don’t wear patches. Nobody knows who these bastards are. The cops have no idea they even exist, but they must be paying off everyone. We need someone in our pocket who’s talked to him recently. Otherwise this will take forever.”

I stopped at the ground floor, pacing the stairwell. “I don’t know any of his associates besides Legion.”

“Can you think of somewhere he might’ve visited?”

I flipped through my phone, hunting for ideas until my thumb slid over the picture of Elena.

Sanctum.

FUCK THIS PLACE.

I’d dropped so much cash in here I could’ve opened a substance abuse clinic. Back when Alessio was Nico’s protégé and Anthony’s best friend, we partied here every weekend. I thought I was living the high life, but all this club had done was distract me from what mattered.

The dreampop music pulsed in semi-lit corridors as we strolled over the black marble. Alessio scowled at the brunette cozying to his side. He stepped away, flashing his wedding ring.

“That’s not a problem for me,” she purred.

“I’m not here to play.”

Alessio shouted Elena’s name over the noise as I scanned the sea of naked women. A glimmer of blonde caught my eye. Brooke’s winged eyes flashed terror as she ducked into another room. I followed and spotted her crouching between two sofas.

“Why are you hiding from me?”

She ran for the door.

I seized her arm. “Brooke.”

“I’m working, and you’re in the way.”

“Were you here when Elena was murdered?”

Brooke’s pink mouth trembled as she ripped from my grasp. “Why?”

“My wife’s fucking missing. She was taken by Elena’s murderer, and I need details about that night.”

“Lost her, have you? That sucks.”

I grabbed her throat. “I’m not playing. I’ll crush the life out of you.”

“I don’t know anything!”

“My patience is gone.” I squeezed hard enough to make her breathing ragged. “Talk.”

“The man whose photo you put up came here, asking all kinds of questions about you.”

“About me?” I relieved the pressure on her neck, my pulse racing. “Like what?”

“Who you fuck. How you like to fuck. That kind of thing.”

“And you talked?”

“Not me,” she gasped, digging into my fingers. “It was Elena. He was dropping a ton of cash, buying everyone’s silence. It must’ve been at least thirty grand. He asked Elena to go home with him. She said yes.”

“Then he dumped her in the parking lot.” I wiped my face. “This is why you’re not supposed to leave the club with anyone. What else happened?”

“That’s all I know. I swear.”

I stepped back from her and wrenched my hair, agonized by images of Elena’s lifeless body. “Who was working that day?”

“Who am I, the manager? Look at the schedule.”

The manager.

A dark suspicion shot into my heart.

Julian.