Noah wasn’t sure what to make of it. The brutal picture was both a mesmerizing and dangerous sight. And he couldn’tputhisfingeronwhetherhewouldcongratulate the person responsible for it, or put them down before they completely spiraled out ofcontrol. Ifthey had any control left in them. Because judging by the corpses’ state, it was a big possibility that it was all gone.
"Boss," said Nicodemo from the behind of the main area.
All men automatically moved in the direction of the voice and were welcomed by another horrific sight. It was a man, and that was the only thing that was certain.
Crimson threads ran through the whole length of his bruised body. From his face and neck all the way to his feet. Even though the man was clearly not older than fifty, pronounced wrinkles covered his face’s blue skin. At first glance, the cause of death was already known to Noah. He had seen it before, and so had all the gathered men. There were fresh cuts all over his face, one going from one ear, through his mouth to the other ear. A bloody and sadistic picture that was supposed to send a message. He was missing a hand; yet, the cut was as clean and precise as if a surgeon had done it. He was wearing a suit but it was soaked in blood and grime, looking as if a wild animal had ripped it apart. He was sprawled on his back, emanating that sickly-strong odor of chemicals.
It took Noah a few minutes to actually recognize him as his Capodecina in charge of the Summerlin part of Las Vegas. He was one of the only men that had not been removed from his position after Marco’s death. His loyalty appeared to remain intact when it came to the Falcone name, however, he had kept his distance from the brutal acts of the mafia, and preferred not to take part in any of them. He was rather a businessman than a killer, and it had made Noah think twice before ordering his murder. A fresh outlook was always welcomed, and as long as he didn’t cause any trouble, he could stay.
However, judging by what was left of the Capodecina, his pacific nature hadn’t helped him this time around. It might have even made him easier prey to the attacker. Whoever that was.
Burning rage hissed through Noah’s body, wanting to be let out in the form of a violent act. White knuckles from clenching his fists on the gun and pursed lips framed into a thin line were his last resort meant to keep him from letting his fury loose.
This had been a declaration of war.
Killing off his people had hardly been a smart move, and yet they still had no idea who had their minds set on taking down the Las Vegas Famiglia.
Noah heard a phone ringing and turned back to face his brother. He was about to answer, but seeing his Capo’s expression, he put the call on the speaker. Isaac’s name flashed on the screen.
"What is it, Isaac?" Flavio asked.
"Have you found another body?" the voice on the other side was low and quiet. If not for the stunned silence reigning in the building, they wouldn’t have been able to hear him at all.
Flavio frowned, gripping the phone tighter. "How do you know?" there was a long pause, filled with heavy breathing.
"Come outside."
They didn’t waste time and did as asked, leaving the Russians’ dead bodies to be dealt with later by other soldiers. It was pitch dark and the only light was given by the moon. Isaac’sfigure was visible a few feet away from the group, standing beside the car. As he saw them, he got in the driver’s seat, turning on the headlights, blinding the Made Men.
"Look behind you," said Isaac, approaching them.
With bright white paint, there were three words written on the building’s wall.
I warned you.
CHAPTER 39
Noah was used to maintaining a cool detachment from his targets. Mostly he preferred not to think of them, but when he did it was as if they were already dead. The only time death had ever got to him was when he’d seen his younger sister’s body lying on the cold concrete of that warehouse. But even though he didn’t care about his Capodecinamore than he did his other soldiers, there was a spark of rage that stirred inside him when it was one of his men being slaughtered, and not on his command. Imagining them just being happy and oblivious one second and gone the next was all that ran through his head the rest of the night. Not to mention that the murder hadn’t been painless with the poison and noxious chemicals mixed together. It could hardly be an easy way to go. And Noah couldn’t stop thinking about it. More importantly, he couldn’t stop thinking about who would do something like this.
The message had been crystal clear. He shouldn’t have continued searching for Lynette, but his stubbornness still refused to let it go. He could only hope that he would find out who the killer was before it was too late. The news about the Capodecina’sdeath would spread quickly, therefore he had to come up with a viable plan. His soldiers were bound to get anxious if they didn’t hear from their Caposoon.
He had been sitting with Isaac in his apartment till morning to somehow manage to finally track down Lynette through some of the Russians they had identified from the massacre, hoping that it was actually her that Ivan had referred to. Besides, it was the only lead they had. Also, they were trying to figure out how to identify the killer, which was proving even more difficult.
"It’s useless," said Isaac, resting his back against the chair. "Maybe we should ask Drew to try and get some information from his father? The FBI certainly knows about the Bratva," he suggested.
Noah shook his head.
