Fallen Empire (Dirty Empire Book 4) Page 3

  A glimmer of satisfaction flashes in his eyes. “Finally, I see some of my own fire in you. I always knew Caleb had it. I was beginning to worry about you.”

  “You’re about to see more than fire if you don’t cough up a location.” My tone is icier than I’ve ever dared use with him.

  He drags his thumb across his bottom lip in thought. “When I heard that a woman managed to tie a leash to my baby boy, I didn’t believe it at first. The only thing more shocking would be to see Caleb settling down.”

  “Your source is shit. There’s no leash on me. She’s just a good lay,” I lie.

  “You could have bought fifty good lays for what you must be spending on her father’s legal fees.” Dad smirks. “Nothing stays quiet in these walls. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

  And here I was, worrying about Camillo or Miles finding out about Mercy.

  I’ll bet that gossip Parker has been spilling his guts about who’s checking in to see Duncan. I’ll be paying the guard a visit to his house after this is all over and making sure his tongue never wags again.

  “How did the meeting with the Perris go?”

  So, we’re going to dance a little before he fesses up to his crimes. “Fan-fucking-tastic.”

  “Then why were their dismembered and burned bodies discovered outside of Las Vegas early this morning?” His steady eyes dissect me.

  I grit my molars to keep from cursing. The feds know what they’ve found—the SUV left at the scene was registered to Miles Perri—but the news hasn’t broken yet, which means that even within these thick concrete walls, basically waiting for his bloated, worn body to give out on him, Vlad still has his fingers in every pot and people willing to feed him whatever he wants. I’d say I don’t know how he maintains such power, but I do. Money and fear—two formidable tools in his belt. The latter, he wields especially well. He has decades of experience.

  “I don’t know what to tell you, except we met with the Perris, we discussed the arrangement, they agreed, and then they left.”

  He smooths a palm over his stomach. “Did you practice that bullshit answer on the drive over here?”

  “It’s not bullshit.” It’s just not the entire truth. They did leave.

  Buried in laundry hampers.

  Not breathing.

  His laughter is deep, grating. “I know my sons too well, and this stinks of your brother’s temper. I expected as much, putting him in a room with Miles Perri.” The smile Dad flashes is nothing short of proud. “Glad to see Caleb hasn’t disappointed me in that regard.”

  What is he saying? That he expected Caleb to go all Wild Wild West and gun down the Perris? “Then why the fuck did you make us meet with them!”

  “Because either you’d form an alliance and deal with Navarro together, or Caleb would remove the Perris from the equation and open up their territory,” he barks. “Either scenario benefits us and that is all I care about. That my family is taken care of.”

  I shake my head. He only cares about his family so long as it’s a possession to him, something he can claim and control. But it’s not surprising that the old man’s been scheming all along. “And what about what you had Bane do to our plane? How does blowing up your two sons benefit us?”

  His chapped lips twist. “That was a lesson. An important one that it was time you two learned.”

  “A lesson?” At least he’s not trying to deny it. But a lesson is teaching your son how to toss a ball or ride a bike, or maybe letting them spend the night in the slammer after they’ve gotten drunk and stirred up trouble with the local authorities. “He killed four innocent people!”

  “Don’t be naïve. No one’s truly innocent in this world.” He waves away my words. “And you fools are still too busy chasing pussy to pay attention to the threats around you. See how easy it was? Navarro can get to you like that.” He snaps his fingers in the air. “It’s time for that to change, if you’re going to survive in this business.”

  That’s the thing: I don’t want to survive in this business. I want nothing to do with it. Both of us want out. But it doesn’t matter to Vlad. It’s his way, or his way by force. And I’m quickly losing track of the reason for my visit, the only thing I care about. I lean forward. “Where did Bane take Mercy?”

  “She’s safe for the moment,” he answers cryptically.

  Just being in a room with Bane is hazardous to anyone’s health. “He killed one of my bodyguards. Injured another.”

  “You should hire better bodyguards.”

  I slam my fist against the cold metal table surface. My patience, already balancing on the edge of a cliff when I stepped into this room, has officially evaporated. “Give her back to me now!” Not that Mercy is a possession but….

  She’s mine.

  And nothing will be right in my life until she’s in my arms again.

  Anger burns in my father’s eyes. His tolerance for this game is waning, too, it would seem. “She’s somewhere no one will find her unless I allow it.”

  I force myself to take a deep, calming breath. “And what? You thought that if you kidnapped Mercy, I’d become your puppet? You say jump and I say how high?” Not that it hasn’t been the way things have worked up until now, but I’ve always done it reluctantly, while looking for a way to avoid it altogether.

  “Listen to me, you little shit. I didn’t spend a lifetime of risking my freedom and ending up in here, only to rot while watching my two idiot sons piss away all that I’ve accomplished. It’s time you two grow up and step into the roles that I’ve carved out for you.”

  “I didn’t ask for whatever you’ve been carving for me.”

  “No, you’ve just happily reaped the harvest of it, haven’t you,” he sneers. “I’ve spent years taking care of you. Now you will take care of me while I’m stuck in here. That’s your responsibility. I’ve asked nicely to no avail. You’ve left me with no other choice, Gabriel.”

  That simmering rage inside me begins to bubble. “So, blowing up our plane and abducting my girlfriend is on us, is it? This is all our fault? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” Typical narcissistic answer.

  His eyes narrow. “It’s certainly insurance so that my dear loving sons guarantee my remaining years in this shithole are palatable.” I can’t help but note the emphasis on years. It’s as if he caught wind to what we’ve been planning with Vince and Merrick Perri. Maybe he has. Maybe that’s what all this is about, in which case I don’t have a right to be angry. “And now you’ll take your rightful spot at the head of the family. You and Caleb both. Your brother may have the temperament to survive this world, but you’re the level-headed one. The one who will hold everything together.”

  Dad is nothing if not persistent, I’ll give him that. Then again, what else does the guy have to hold onto, sitting in his little concrete cell? He needs the Easton name thriving on the outside, or the ring of protection he’s cocooned himself in on the inside will vanish and he’ll just be another sad old criminal in a cage, only with too many enemies to count. “What about Peter? I think he’ll have something to say about us claiming that title. Everyone does what he says.” It’s always been Vlad and Peter Easton at the helm, and since Dad was locked up—thanks to Peter’s betrayal—Uncle Peter has managed the big decisions. All of our cousins and business associates answer to him, and he’s made it clear that he wants us out of the way.

  “He is no longer an issue for us. Neither are those idiots he calls sons.” Dad’s flat, cold gaze says it all.

  Bane must have found them. Busy hitman indeed. Has he already killed them? Dad seems unbothered by the fact that his brother and nephews are dead—or soon to be—by his order. But I don’t give a shit about my uncle or my cousins. Peter signed his death certificate the day he decided to betray his brother for his own gain. All I care about is seeing Mercy again, alive and safe, and I know my father won’t budge.

  “Tell Bane to stay the hell away from her. You got that?” I warn.

  “Yo
u two start behaving and I’ll have no reason to tell him otherwise.” Dad smirks. “But from what I’ve heard around here, even that sick son of a bitch might feel his little dick twitch at the sight of her—”

  The metal chair legs scrape against the concrete floor as I bolt out of my chair and reach across the table. I grab my father by the collar of his prison-issue uniform and haul him forward, until our faces our inches apart. “If he lays a single finger on her,” I force through gritted teeth, “so help me God, I will end you—”

  “Enough of this!” Dad shoves me away with force. He takes a moment to adjust his top button. “You’re wasting time, and we have important things to discuss.”

  Of course. It’s always about the business. My father is an unmovable ten-tonne boulder. Threats have never swayed him.

  I check the door and see Donny peeking through the tiny window. He must have heard the commotion. After the last visit and my sour mood, I’ll bet he’s worried he’ll have a dead body to explain. I pick my chair off the floor and take my seat again. “And what exactly do we have to discuss, father?”

  He arranges his hands in a tent on the table in front of him. “Harriet’s escorts have informed me that they are no longer interested in their paid position.”

  God damn Harriet. Call it what it is, I want to scream. Your cocaine and heroin empire! He’s so used to using his stupid code names, it’s engrained in him.

  “You’re surprised by this?” Puff’s guys keep getting massacred by the cartel for muling drugs for us. “So pay them more.”

  “They just cost us a significant sum when they let Navarro burn our product. Why would I pay them more when they haven’t done their job? If anything, they should compensate us.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that.” There’s no way Puff’s crew can scrape together that kind of cash. We’re talking about millions. Plus, they’ve probably heard what happened to the Mamba who was interrogated by the cartel for intel. His motorcycle club found him with his manhood jammed in his mouth like a festive pig biting an apple. “I guess Puff doesn’t feel that the risk of mutilation and dismemberment is worth being in business with us anymore.” Can’t say I blame him.

  “And that is where you come in. I need you to convince him that it is in his best interest to continue with our arrangement,” he says slowly, clearly. “Send a message. Remind him that he has loved ones. Take away their freedom until he comes to his senses.”

  He wants me to threaten Puff. Or, more aptly, Puff’s family, who’s on the outside while he sits in these walls along with my father, surrounded by his own ring of protection. Virtually untouchable.

  Caleb and I have stepped in from time to time to settle questions about who’s in charge when it comes to gangsters and other lowlifes, but we’ve always drawn the line at innocents. Women and children are off-limits.

  But now my father has my balls in an iron vice, primed to squeeze, and we both know it.

  “Is that all….” I feign a dull tone, meanwhile my insides are twisting.

  “No, but that’s a start.”

  It’s never just one thing with him. “And what else are we being tasked to do?”

  “There’s a shipment coming from Eduardo next week. Ivan will handle it, but he has your number now instead of Peter’s.”

  “Fine. Whatever.” Eduardo has been running the cartel in Sinaloa for years. He’s a mean fucker, but he and Dad have always gotten along well. And Ivan is basically my father and Uncle Peter’s righthand man. He’s the guy dad trusted most after Uncle Peter. He’s been managing all the cocaine supply runs since before Dad went to prison.

  It’s a relatively smooth operation. Aside from fielding a phone call from Ivan to confirm it’s done, I don’t have to do anything except remind Ivan who he works for so he doesn’t get any ideas, now that Peter, Vic, and Alexei are gone for good. “Are we done then?”

  Dad studies his chewed fingernails. “I heard there were only three Perris found this morning. Why not five?”

  I shrug. I can’t explain that without incriminating myself. I won’t try.

  “They need to be dealt with.”

  Jesus. Now he’s ordering us to kill Vince and Merrick? “Why?”

  “Because your brother has created an opportunity for us, one I don’t want to waste. It’ll be cleaner for us to take over the Perri territory if there aren’t two of them alive to challenge us, and we need to do it now, before Navarro makes his move.”

  The last thing Merrick and Vince care to do is take on Vlad Easton or Navarro for their stake in the Perri drug business, but my father doesn’t know that, and I’m not supposed to know that. “Navarro’s already making his move for that territory.”

  “He’ll back down.”

  “Why would he do that? So far he’s been handing us our asses.” Slaughtering our distribution chain and burning our product in a masterful “fuck you.” “Now you want to take on more territory that he wants, with less people in our corner to defend us?” I snort. “You’ve officially lost your damn mind.”

  “He will back down, when he learns that the Easton family is not to be trifled with.” A small smirk touches his lips.

  My eyes narrow with suspicion. “What have you set in motion?”

  “A lesson. You don’t need the details.”

  Shit. I know what his lessons look like, firsthand. “So, you’re starting an all-out war with Navarro’s cartel that we’ll have to clean up,” I say flatly. Tossing a lit match onto a pile of tinder.

  “No, I’m going to show him that our reach can be just as long and punishing.”

  A knock sounds on the door. Donny is eyeing me through the window, a pained expression plastered across his face. If he has the guts to pressure me like this, it means this conversation has to end now before this channel is permanently blocked.

  “Those two Perris? They’re a problem. Deal with them.” Dad’s bushy eyebrows arch in meaning.

  I can’t begin to wrap my head around these requests—murder, abduction, maybe more murder—and whether I’ll comply. It’s a good thing I have a long drive back to Vegas to consider my options. If I’m foolish enough to believe I have any. But he still hasn’t given me an answer. “Where is she?”

  He hesitates on his response, watching me a moment. “I told you. She’s safe. Probably safer now than she is when she’s with you. Definitely safer than she would be in Navarro’s hands.”

  My molars grind against each other.

  “Consider it a favor that I’m doing for you, son. You need to focus on your priorities. She’ll stay safe while you learn how to run the business.”

  I fight the urge to reach across the table and choke the answer out of him. I’d never get it. He’d die with a smile on his lips and a promise on his tongue, that Mercy will suffer extra for my betrayal. “I expect a phone call within the hour with her on the other line.” I need to at least hear her voice, to tell her I’m sorry.

  I need to hear her tell me that she doesn’t hate me.

  That she still loves me.

  Dad snorts. “Bane doesn’t work like—”

  “Within the hour!” My shout ricochets off the walls as I storm out.

  4

  Mercy

  Forty-two.

  That’s how many nails my captor drove through the sheet of plywood to secure it to the window, shutting the world out. Ten would have sufficed. Regardless, I don’t have a hope in hell of prying it off, a reality I accepted hours ago, after pacing the perimeter of this tiny bedroom until the stifling air exhausted me. After making sure there weren’t any hidden cameras, I shed my robe, the hefty terry cloth smothering in this intolerable heat.

  It was around that same time that I heard the woman’s scream for the first time.

  The frightened sound came from somewhere outside of the trailer—the garage, probably.

  She sounded older and her cries were interspersed with pleading. There were so many “please don’ts” and “we’ll give you anythings.”
I don’t know who “we” is or what she was begging our captor not to do. Knowing that I’m not the only one trapped in this desert compound brought me a twisted comfort, but I haven’t heard her again in some time. That doesn’t bring me any comfort.

  I assume she’s stuck here on Vlad Easton’s orders. I wonder what she did to earn his ire?

  All I did was fall in love with his son.

  With a deep breath to stifle my panic, my thoughts drift to Gabriel. He must know by now that I’ve been taken, and I’m sure he’s beyond livid. But has he figured out that it’s his own father directing this psychopath?

  He’ll find me and get me out of here. I know he will. For all Gabriel’s faults—and he has many—he has always protected me in his own way. Will he get the police involved though? No, not likely and especially not after what happened in the penthouse last night.

  But he’s probably already running around with his team of bodyguards, on the phone with his P.I, breaking all kinds of laws and throwing money at people for information. Someone must have seen something. Me, carried into the van. Cameras that caught the plates. Anything.

  Gabriel will save me. I just need to be patient.

  I check the plastic water bottle in my grip. The amount left in it hasn’t changed—a mouthful. It was full when he locked me in here and I’ve been savoring it over the hours. I’m not eager to use the bucket in the corner—presumably the restroom. Also, I have no idea how long it’ll be before I get another. This guy doesn’t seem like the type to be too concerned about keeping me hydrated.

  An ear-piercing shriek slices through the silence.

  My heart begins to race. It’s that woman again, only it’s a different sound than the last round of screams, laced less with fear and more with horror.

  I hold my breath and listen for some clue about who she is, and why she’s trapped here, too.

  Another shriek punctures the desert’s quiet soon after, this one more desperate.