He chuckled, low and deep, and kissed me. “You never cease to amaze,” he said.
I hugged him tight and felt his body against mine.
I was different now and I knew it. I had gone from the quiet, shy, pathetic girl that had a fucked-up father and never once believed she deserved anything good in life… to something stronger.
All thanks to Dante. I had a new life, a new world. And I wasn’t going to let anyone walk all over me ever again.
“Come on,” Dante said. “Let’s go check on all the others. I’ll get Ryan to bring you back here tomorrow, and I’ll send a couple guys to help out and act as muscle. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds perfect.” I leaned up against his arm and hugged it tight. I kissed his shoulder and smiled, big and broad.
I felt like the world was finally beginning to make sense.
30
Dante
I spent the rest of that night in Eastwick with my guys, kicking down doors and clearing out Russians. There wasn’t much resistance, and by the next morning, half of the neighborhood was in our control.
I went home, exhausted and running on fumes. Aida got me upstairs and into bed, and although all I wanted to do was lick her delicious little pussy and feel her lips around my cock, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep that lasted more or less all day.
I woke up around five with Aida curled up next to me. I got up and grabbed my phone. I sent some texts and made some calls. As I got out of the shower, Steven called me, and I took it out in the hall. Aida was still sleeping and I didn’t want to wake her up.
“Eastwick is ours,” Steven said.
“Anyone hurt? Anyone dead?”
“Nobody.” He sounded pleased. “Easiest fucking war ever.”
“We did all the hard work already. Lost enough people.” I let out a breath and relief rushed over me. “Wish I’d been there.”
“You didn’t need to be. Nobody knows you were sleeping. You needed the rest.”
“Yeah,” I said. “But we’ve got one more thing to deal with.”
“Already setting it up. I looked into the apartment Gerardo told us about and it’s owned by some guy named Jake Jacobson, but I think that’s just a fake name.”
“Sounds promising,” I said, a spike of excitement running through me.
Steven laughed. “So we’re going to hit it tonight and see what turns up. If there’s no Vlas, we’ll just move on to the next tip. Hopefully, the Jalisco won’t take offense to you breaking Gerardo’s nose.”
“He’s not dumb,” I said. “He’ll let it go. I suspect Vlas will turn up, and if he’s there, we’ll pay the man what we owe him. Fifty grand, straight up.”
Steven whistled. “You’re so generous, boss.”
I laughed. “Fuck off. Anything else to report?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Just that I heard about your little gift to Aida.”
“Yeah? The guys talking about that?” I grinned to myself.
“Biagio’s been telling the story like she punched some girl in the face then fired her. Is that shit true?”
“Sort of,” I said. “She slapped her and fired her.”
“Wow,” Steven said and let out a laugh. “That girl’s fully mobbed up now, isn’t she?”
“Damn right she is.” I heard a noise and turned. Aida was lingering in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of panties, her hair a mess, a little smile on her lips. “I gotta go.”
“I’ll pick you up in an hour,” Steven said.
I hung up the phone, dropped it on the floor, and walked to my woman. I didn’t say a word as I kissed her, palmed her ass, licked her breasts, then dragged her back to my bed without a word.
I had at least fifty minutes to taste every inch of her and turn her into a sweaty, spent mess.
That was barely enough time, but I could work with it.
* * *
Steven picked us up right on time and we drove through the city, up north to South Street. Schmitz Bar was between Seventh and Eighth Streets in a popular and busy part of the city. Drunk young college kids were all over the place, crawling from bar to bar. Schmitz had a large, wood-paneled front facade with these huge double doors. Everything was authentically German, or at least that’s what they claimed.
I never got into big beers and schnitzel, but the bar was packed just based on the number of people coming and going. We parked right down the street and staked it out. Aida sat in the back and I sat up front with Steven as we watched the flow of people coming and going.
“You spot him?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Entrance is just there,” he said, pointing to a nondescript, unmarked gray door next to the restaurant’s entrance. “As far as we know, that’s the only way in.”
“All right,” I said. “So he might’ve gone up a day ago or something. How long have you been watching?”
“Since Gerardo mentioned it,” he said.
“Fine. Doesn’t change anything.” I leaned back in my seat. “Too crowded to go up right now. But give it a few hours.”
Steven nodded and settled in to wait.
It was a long night, and I worried Aida might get impatient. Staking out a spot wasn’t fun work and it wasn’t glamorous. The mob life could be fast paced and exciting, but sitting outside of a location just staring at its front door wasn’t the fastest way to pass an evening.
Still, we sat there and waited. Steven got us food from the German place and it wasn’t so bad. Schnitzel was basically just fried chicken pounded thin, and it was actually pretty good. We ate, joked about Aida slapping then girl down, then went back to waiting some more.
Just after midnight, the crowds began to thin out. Bars closed at two in Philly, and there was always a big rush right at closing time. I frowned at the street, at the few couples and groups of young men walking from place to place,
