Hidden Witness 2: A Mafia Romance Read online

  Quietly, I walked into the house, locking the door behind me. Dominic stalked toward me, swiping his hat off his head. “What the fuck was that?!” he yelled in a whisper.

  I snatched my sunglasses off, hurrying through the cream cookie cutter home into the family room, peeking out the window. “I don’t fucking know!” My eyes peered back at the drone on the coffee table.

  “Let’s find out.”

  “Dillon, do you know what you are doing?”

  “Remember the toy helicopters we flew with dad?”

  “Yeah, but Dillon, that was a long fucking time ago.”

  “Well, little Dillon and I still fly them a couple times a month.” I swooped up the blue drone and the remote with camera, dipping into the backyard.

  Dominic observed from the entryway. I placed the drone on the ground before me. The remote was wide yet light weight. Clicking the on button, the screen lit up and the video camera popped on. Pulling back on the circular controller, the drone rose off the ground. Focusing on the screen, I watched as the drone flew over the yards. I hovered in the air above the traffic at the busy intersection. I guessed, turning the controller to the right. Flying down the street I spotted the black Escalade in line at a fast food restaurant. Raising the drone higher, I hovered over the roof of the shopping plaza.

  “What did you find?” Dominic asked, stepping beside me.

  “Fuck, you found them! You’re pretty good at this shit.”

  Once the Escalade made a left onto the main street, I followed, remaining four cars back. Once they turned onto Belwood, I flew back down the street out of sight.

  “Dom, see if they pulled into the garage.”

  He ran into the house, returning a minute later.

  “Yeah, they are back.”

  I pulled the controller toward me, guiding the drone onto the ground in front of Dom and me.

  “Impressive, big bro.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, that was fun. Now, I get why Brandon and Sebastian get a kick out of flying these things. I think little Dillon and I are upgrading to a drone.”

  “I bet he would like that, Dominic stated.

  ∞

  The rest of our crew arrived around 9:30 p.m. The sky was black, yet the stars glowed overhead, offering minimal light. I opened the gate. Sebastian drove straight into the massive yard, parking next to the Natural Grid truck. Tony turned right, parking on the grass. The neighborhood was still. I closed the gate, then followed the guys through the single cream door off the brick patio into the well-lit kitchen.

  “Hey, don’t touch the lights,” I whispered, closing the door behind me. “Mr. French has them set on a timer. The kitchen lights and various lights throughout the house turned on a couple of hours ago.”

  “All right,” Hunter stated, taking a seat at the wide stainless-steel counter.

  Earlier, my peripheral noticed the lights popped on in various rooms throughout the house at 7:30 p.m. I jumped to my feet, walking throughout the house, observing which lights were on. The kitchen light was the first I noticed followed by the light in the spacious bright living room. The light illuminated the frosted windows circling the cream double front doors. Walking through the long upstairs hallway, which lit my path as I peeked into each of the dark bedrooms.

  Dominic glanced at me as I strolled down the stairs leading into the family room. “How many lights are on?”

  “One upstairs and two down.”

  He nodded, resting his chin on his arm over the cool black leather couch. The room made you want to sit and relax. I would have loved to enjoy the sixty-five-inch flat screen TV resting over the tan cobble stone fireplace. My Gore-Tex boots shuffled across the natural oak floors. I plopped into a black cushy recliner, falling into dream land, I remembered.

  Bringing my thoughts back to the present, I watched Tony and Brandon place our dinner on the counter. I glanced into the family room, Dom was at his post peering out the window through binoculars. His perfect cut which held too much mousse two weeks ago has grown, covering his ears.

  My cousin’s curly black locks were pulled up into a man bun. “Sebastian, did Mr. French call you?”

  Taking a large bite out of his double cheeseburger, he nodded.

  Sipping on my Coke, I waited for Sebastian to speak.

  “He was concerned about the gas lines. I ensured him everything was all right. Hunter set Mr. French’s security cameras on a loop yet using a real time stamp. It’s genius.”

  Hunter stretched his arms to the side and bowed at the waist.

  “Are you a computer hacker too?”

  “Yes. We shouldn’t talk about it because Sebastian will get his training bra twisted. I don’t want to argue about who is the better hacker so we will leave it alone for now.” He pointed two fingers toward Sebastian.

  Sebastian laughed.

  My eyes wandered, observing each man’s demeanor gathered around the kitchen counter. The once brooding men appeared to be in good spirits. I scarfed down my turkey burger, returning to the family room, loading magazine clips into each of weapons scattered across the coffee table. All of us were dressed in black tactical gear. I laid out every one’s light-weight bullet proof vest.

  “Guys, come into the family room! Let’s go over the plan,” I stated, motioning my hand for the guys to hustle along.

  They trickled in one after the other, fanning around the room.

  “First, we need to wipe down this house before we leave. Sebastian, pull up a map of the neighborhood.”

  He pecked away at the laptop keys. “I have it,” he stated, laying his laptop flat on the table like a tablet.

  We gathered around the table.

  “Upon leaving the neighborhood, we will make a left out of the driveway. Circle around the block, parking on the street behind the targeted house.” I pointed to the screen.

  I glanced at Tony. “Be sure to ditch the gas truck five miles down the road.”

  “Got it.”

  My eyes roamed around the room. “We have to hit hard quick, before the police arrive.”

  I turned my attention to Dominic. “Is your police connect in place?”

  “Yeah. He is parked around the corner. He will be the first to respond to any police calls in the area,” he stated, slipping his bulletproof vest over his head.

  “Good,” I stated, grabbing a vest, slipping it over, my gruff hair.

  “Grab a vest. Any questions?” I glanced into their bearded faces again.

  “No,” they responded one after the other, slipping on their vests.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  DILLON

  After parking the vehicles, a short distance up the block, Tony, Dom, Hunter, Brandon, and I crouched down, toting our assault rifles, running along the long fence shielding the homes from the street noise. Hunter raised his fist, halting our movements. He tapped his earpiece, “We are moving in.”

  “Be careful. The house is heavily guarded,” Sebastian replied.

  Hunter unhooked the gate, swinging it open. Assault weapons extended, Dominic and I stormed through the gate blasting. Pointing my rifle toward a guy to my left, I shot, then shooting the guy standing at 11 o’clock. Shots rang out, bullets flew through the air toward us. Tony followed close behind, picking off the men guarding the perimeter. Brandon covered Hunter, shooting the men to his right. Hunter ran toward the house, firing at the lock until the light shined through the bullet holes.

  Tony kicked the door in. I ran into the house, entering the family room, releasing several rounds around the room, killing five men. Shots flew toward us from the living room. I dove on the floor, rolling on my back, pointing my rifle toward the man shooting at me from the stairs. The bullets from my rifle slammed into his legs and torso. Hunter and Brandon continued through the house, stepping over dead bodies, shooting their way upstairs. Dragging my body up the wall, I peeked into the living room.

  “Fuck you, Dillon!” rang out
from the corner of the living room where Ricky appeared.

  My team already disappeared upstairs.

  My eyes met Ricky’s. “No, fuck you!”

  Stepping back, I fired one bullet, which slammed into his chest. The other flew through the center of his forehead.

  “Dillon! Get up here!” Dominic yelled.

  Tony waited at the top of the stairs, pointing his gun toward me. “Go, I got your back!”

  Running past, him, I entered the second bedroom down the hall to the right. Filippo Jr. sat on the bed. Dominic pointed his Glock in his direction. The rest of our team was cleaning house. There were three men lying on the floor around him, dead. His slender fingers brought the cigarette to his lips while running his other hand along his dark jeaned covered thigh. His dark eyes met mine.

  “Fuck you, Dillon! You will never be the Don your father was!” He grimaced, releasing the cigarette smoke from his lungs.

  Slipping my Glock from my shoulder holster, I jammed it against his forehead. A devilish smile curled my lips. “That’s where you’re wrong. You, slimy bitch! Nessuna pietà.” My gloved fingers pulled the trigger. My ominous eyes stared through him as the bullet penetrated his forehead, splattering his brains out the back of his head. His body jerked, falling against the bed. Stepping closer, another bullet released from my Glock, slamming into his heart. The blood rose to the surface, soaking through the threads of his white T-shirt.

  Dominic and I ran into the hall. Hunter and Brandon barreled toward us. “Let’s go!” I yelled.

  “Guys, I scrambled the police scanners. You all have a small window of time to exit the house!”

  “Thanks, Sebastian.”

  Tony slapped a brick of C-4 on the wall facing the empty lot. Swiftly, our team exited the back door. Pulling our baseball caps low over our eyes, we walked down the street toward the trucks. Tony squeezed the detonator. The explosion roared, taking the house out like a box of match sticks. The blast wave propelled our bodies forward, knocking us to the ground. Helping each other to our feet, we hustled into the vehicles. Throwing the truck in drive, I coasted down the street, followed by Brandon, Tony, and Sebastian.

  Dominic tapped a button on his phone, then placed it up to his ear. “Hey Quince, how are we looking? Ah, huh. All right, good. Talk to you later.” He disconnected the call.

  “Dillon, we are clear!”

  I glanced at Hunter through the rearview mirror. “Are you, all right?”

  He flashed a smile. “Explosions bring back horrible memories for me. A story for another time. But, I’m fine.”

  ~

  An hour later, we drove through the gate of my family’s safehouse in Middleton. Spilling out of the trucks, we stretched before unloading our belongings. Hunter slapped me on the shoulder.

  “I need a bedroom away from everyone. I want to peel off this fucking mask and sleep.”

  I smiled. “No problem.”

  Cruise awaited us at the front door.

  “Welcome back,” he stated.

  “Thanks, Cruise.”

  “Boss, we will continue to guard the house tonight.”

  “Sounds good. Goodnight,” I replied.

  Standing in the dim atrium, I turned, glancing at the guys. “Tomorrow you fellas can head back to the ladies’ safehouse. Tony, Dominic, and I have other business to handle.”

  “What do you want us to tell, Sierra?” Brandon asked adjusting the bag on his shoulder.

  Removing my baseball cap, I ran my fingers through my hair. “Tell her I’m fine. I don’t know when I will be there.”

  Brandon stared at me blankly then nodded.

  “Let me show you fellas to your rooms.” The guys followed behind me down the dimly lit halls to their respective rooms.

  ~

  Roaming down the hall toward the other wing of the house, I stopped outside my parents’ bedroom. Quietly, Dominic sat in the oversized cream chair staring out the window. I flipped on the light switch. “Dad, wake up. We are home,” I stated.

  My father sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He turned on the bedside lamp. Stepping closer, I stood before him. He stood, pulling me into his arms. “Dominic, come here,” he said.

  My father wrapped his arms around us both. My mother stirred, finally rising. A smile brightened her sleepy face. We pulled her into our family hug. “I’m so happy you boys are home safe,” my mother cried.

  “Me too, Mom. You guys can go back home tomorrow,” I stated.

  She sighed. “Good.”

  I stepped back. “I need to take a shower. I smell like smoke.”

  “Me too,” said Dom.

  “Goodnight,” he called out over his shoulder, disappearing from the bedroom.

  “See you two in the morning,” I stated, turning on my heels.

  “Dillon.” My mother grabbed my hand.

  I turned to her. “Yes?”

  “When do I get to meet your fiancée?” she quizzed.

  I glanced at my father. He climbed back into bed.

  My smile rose and fell. “Mom, I’m not sure you will meet her. She doesn’t want to be my fiancée anymore. She didn’t sign up to marry a mob boss.”

  Her sad eyes focused on mine. “I’m sorry, son.”

  Her eyes held my gaze longer. There was an unspoken understanding about what we’d done right under my father’s nose. If he found out my mother’s involvement in our faked deaths, he may not forgive her.

  “Mom, go back to sleep. I’ll see you at breakfast.” I planted my lips against her pale forehead.

  “I love you Dillon.”

  “I love you too.”

  ∞

  Standing over the stove, I flipped each of the four golden pancakes in the large skillet. I pushed the turkey sausage links around the inside of the second skillet on the back burner. This safehouse has an industrial country kitchen like the other safehouse. The guys left for the ladies’ safehouse about an hour ago. I leaned over peeking out the kitchen window. It was a beautiful day. The war was over. I look forward to seeing Sierra in the flesh. I need to inhale her beautiful skin. Tracing my fingers along her soft honey brown skin if only for one moment tonight, my day would be complete.

  “Good morning, Dillon.” I heard from behind.

  Removing the pancakes from the skillet, I stacked the golden beauties on a white porcelain plate. I placed the plate in the center of the black marble counter top. My wide smile greeted my sisters.

  “Good morning Alexandria! How did you sleep?”

  She leaned over the counter pouring herself a glass of orange juice. “Sleeping is all I’ve done since we’ve been here. That and watched TV. Not being able to text my friends sucks.”

  “I bet it does. The moment you get home today, I’m sure mom will give you your phone back.” I smiled.

  Her eyes lit up. “We are going home! That’s great. I’m behind in my social media posts.”

  “Pancakes?”

  “Yes, two please,” she stated.

  “It’s important you don’t tell your friends about your stay here.”

  She smirked. “I know dad already told me to tell everyone we were on vacation.”

  I tapped the counter good. “How would you like your eggs?”

  “Sunny side up, please. Who taught you how to cook?”

  “I taught myself how to cook the basics in college. My fiancée taught me how to cook like this,” I stated over my shoulder.

  “That’s cool. Will I get to meet her?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Hopefully soon.” I turned rolling two sausage links out of the skillet onto her plate.”

  My mother, father, and Dominic walked into the kitchen. “Good morning, you guys.” I grinned.

  “Good morning,” they stated as they sat around the counter.

  “Mom, why are you letting Dillon cook? He’s going to burn down the house,” he huffed.

  “Shut up, Dominic, how ab
out you get your butt over here and help.”

  “Not going to happen. That’s not my expertise. Mom, your son needs some help.”

  Laughter filled the room.

  “I was only cooking for me and Alexandria.”

  My mother walked over, rubbing my back. “I’ll help you baby.”

  My smile widened, staring at Dom. “Mom, you can cook for Dominic. I don’t want to hear him talking bad about my meal.”

  “Thanks mom for helping him. The last thing I want to worry about is being food poisoned.” he chuckled.

  I pointed my spatula in his direction. “Yeah, real funny!”

  I pointed the spatula toward my sister. “How is your breakfast?”

  “Delicious!”

  I raised my hand she in turn slapped my hand. “Yes! Thanks sis!”

  “Dillon, I’ll take the last two pancakes on the plate.”

  “Sure thing, dad.”

  What a wonderful morning. Reminded me of old times. Only difference but added bonus is my sister is here.

  After fresh shaves and haircuts, Tony, Dominic, and I walked into the back door of our family’s night club dressed in the finest Italian made suits. Standing inside the very room my uncle was gunned down held an eerie bitterness in my heart. I shrugged my large shoulders, tugging on my square platinum cufflinks. My hand flew up, straightening my dark pink and blue tie around the neck of my dark pink dress shirt. The bluish gray silk suit fit me to a tee. The black Tom Ford Gianni Cap shoes glistened when the light hit the toe. Tony and I returning from the dead also meant our wealth was restored. The millions I made combined with my mafia wealth turned me into an instant billionaire. Tony ran his hand alongside his slicked back black hair. It was nice seeing Tony in the three-piece navy suit. It reminded me of old times. My brother fell in line at my right, eyes glaring around the room. His suit cockiness is evident. This man was born to live in suits. Who knew?