Page 67 of Dario

31

Dario

Iwould have been out of the car and running toward the gates if Gia hadn’t clamped his hand on my arm and stopped me. “You can’t help Alessandro if you’re dead,” he spat out, which was the one thing that kept me there. Lucio had driven past so we could check the house and we’d seen at least two men walking the grounds, which meant even if we could take out the cameras we’d still be seen. It would be a gunfight and too risky for Alessandro. I didn’t trust what Amato would do when he knew we were there.

I closed my eyes briefly and took a deep breath to try and calm down. This was fucking ridiculous. I’d shot my first enemy at thirteen. I’d seen countless people tortured and taken apart for whatever we needed. Other people’s misery was my currency and I dealt it like cards, but one pair of brown eyes staring back at me, and I was whipped.

“According to the old plans, the basement is under the kitchen, which makes sense,” Gia said. “There’s a courtyard and twogarages out of sight by the kitchen door but that seem to be the most easily accessible point of entry to the house.”

I was just going to agree that was clearly our way in when Gia looked up. “Get Marcello back on the phone.” The urgency in his voice had me acting immediately and he answered after only two rings. I told him we were here, the immediate problem, and that he was on speakerphone with Gia.

“Marcello,” Gia started. “Can you call the company I’m sending to your phone? It’s a risk but they did quite extensive foundation work on the property five years ago. Much more than simply waterproofing a basement. Can you tell them that the escape tunnel is waterlogged, and ask if it’s possible a leak in the kitchen has caused it?”

“What escape tunnel?” Marcello asked, sounding as confused as I felt.

Gia ignored me. “I compared similar quotes for waterproofing an existing basement and what was paid is a good sixty percent higher than average. I want to know what else they did down there, and if they think you already know, it might work.”

Marcello put us on hold.

“What the fuck?” I muttered in astonishment at him.

“Do you remember playing Clue with Papà?”

It was like I was having an out of body experience. “Vaguely.”

He huffed. “That’s because you were always more interested in Monopoly.” I wanted to reply but my throat seemed to close of its own volition. Would I ever get the chance to play games with my kids? Would I ever have any kids? Would I get a chance with Alessandro, because at some point over the last few hours I had come to the realization that I would have to let him go. I’d forced him into this life, and he must hate me. It was even a relief now, admitting it to myself.

I had to let him go.

It wasn’t near morning yet, but I knew the judge would file the paperwork unless Alessandro stopped him.

Marcello interrupted my thoughts. “I don’t know what weird voodoo shit you have going on, but I just spoke to the grandson of Eric senior. They had to close the business four years ago because a property they worked on not long after this one seemed to develop a gas leak and killed most of the crew. Then another two were killed individually in road traffic accidents.” He said it with just a touch of irony, and I absolutely knew it was Gabriel making sure his secrets would be kept.

“What no one knew was that Eric was taken by his grandad to show them the tunnel they were excavating. He knew it would appeal to a thirteen-year-old, but the grandfather had to smuggle him in as they were restricted to the number of approved workers.”

“It probably saved his life,” I said.

“Exactly,” Marcello agreed. “But Eric remembers because his grandfather told him of the hidden entrance. There’s a grate behind the first garage. It’s unlocked but hidden. There would be too many variables in making a quick exit if they had to find a key.”

“Thank you,” I said sincerely.

There was a pause. “Kill my uncle and we’ll call it even.”

I had every intention of doing just that.

I got Lucio to drive around the closest to the garage to drop me off and he wasn’t subtle in vocalizing how much he hated the plan. Or not the plan, just the fact that I was going on my own.

We’d decided on the only thing we could do. Go in from the front, all guns blazing, while I slipped through the tunnel, assuming I could find it and open it. It was a huge risk. The chance that Alessandro would die the moment the gunfire started was real, but Gabriel was confident. He would have an escape plan.

And I just hoped that was through the tunnel.

I got as close to the garages as I dared. There was still a stretch of gravel path I had to run up from the woods, and there was a very real likelihood I would be seen. I waited a few minutes for Lucio to drive back to the corner, contact the other three cars, and hit the gates one after another.

As soon as the first explosive outburst of gunfire sounded, I was running. I got to the garages without so much as taking a breath, ducking down and searching for the grate. It took way too long to find it, and my heart just about stopped when it didn’t budge. I quickly used my knife to score the edges where the weeds had overgrown, then yanked it open. I dropped down into a low space I couldn’t stand to my full height in, but I didn’t have to crawl either, and ran.

Just as I rounded the corner, smelled the gasoline, I heard a guttural snarl. “I don’t get what I want, then Banetti doesn’t get what he wants.”

I glanced in horror at a naked, bound, Alessandro and I knew, absolutely knew, what Amato was about to do. Gunfire would create the exact spark he wanted. I saw his finger coming down to press the button on the lighter and I ran, launching myself at him, just as his thumb depressed the lighter. There was a second where we were both airborne then we landed in a heap of fire and noise and white-hot pain.